a fun rendezvous was all she needed, with a tall, dark— Her thoughts were cut short when she looked up, her jacket in her hand, and met the cornflower-blue eyes of one of the hottest men in Wyoming, Canton Wilde.
She swallowed, hard.
Although she was younger than Canton by at least three or four years, Naomi knew of him. Heck, every female under the age of ninety-nine in and around Cheyenne knew of Canton, as well as his siblings. Not only were they one of the richest families in the area, if not the richest, the men were so hot, so sought-after, they could all collectively star in their own reality show, of the Bachelor competition variety.
Tall, he had to be over well over six feet, easily a full foot taller than her own five feet four inches.
From where he stood, the light from the bar showed his full body, face and all. But in reality, Naomi knew what he looked like from memory.
He wore his dark blond hair closely cropped to his well-shaped head, while a stubble of a beard the same dark blond shade shadowed his chiseled squared jaw. His long nose was aquiline. And she knew that the slight bump in the center, he’d gotten being tackled in high school while playing football.
Her glance slid over his beautiful male form.
Casually, he wore jeans that sculpted and hugged his thick thighs and muscular legs. The light from the bar seemed to focus on the center of his jeans, and his zipper, and the distinct bulge thereabouts. Or maybe it was her own lust that had her helplessly gazing at the man’s crotch like some kind of wanton woman.
Whatever it was, helpless, she stared at him, transfixed. She forced her gaze away and met his eyes, his glance hot and filled with something she dare not name...
Was it her imagination, or was she really seeing what she thought she was seeing? Naomi wondered, wetting her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue. And if so, then...dare she?
Why not? she thought, a plan forming in her mind. Why not...proposition Canton Wilde? Not as if it hadn’t happened to him before; she well knew his rep. Besides, who better to really, uh, deflower her than him, she thought, feeling bolder by the millisecond as she allowed the wild thought to marinate in her mind.
She bit her lower lip, wondering if she dared to be so bold?
Naomi let go of her lip and smiled.
It was small at first. Just one side of her mouth kicked up.
The stronger the thought took root in her mind, the naughtier, the bolder, she felt.
Empowered, even.
Now both sides of her mouth lifted up, until a full-toothed smile took over her face with a mind of its own.
His bright cornflower-blue eyes widened, and his own very sensual mouth lifted in the corner. Naomi just about melted right there on the spot. Dear God, the man was beyond sexy. He oozed sex appeal like other men sweat.
Question was, did she have what it took to actually go through with what was fermenting in her mind?
They held each other’s gazes, communicating on some odd, unique wavelength that was new, fresh, exciting. One that only they felt, only they knew about.
It was as though they were sharing some secret of the universe that no one else could claim.
The club, the noise, Alyssa, all faded away as she held Canton Wilde’s penetrating, hypnotic deep blue gaze.
Her nipples hardened beneath her gauzy blouse.
As though he knew, though there was no way he could tell from their distance away from each other, Canton’s gaze wandered, briefly, to her breasts before returning to her eyes.
She inhaled a swift breath.
Naomi couldn’t have looked away had her friend told her the club was on fire.
“But then again, would it be sooo bad meeting Mr. Right? How romantic would that be... I mean sure, you’d have to stay in Wyoming, but then again— Uh, Naomi?”
Naomi was oblivious to the small fingers being snapped in front of her face. “Girl...are you even listening to me? Naomi?” Now frustration flavored her friend’s tone.
Alyssa stopped her monologue and stared at Naomi, still snapping her fingers in front of Naomi’s face in an attempt to get her friend’s attention.
Naomi tore her gaze away from Canton and turned her focus to her friend.
“Huh?” she asked, feeling completely unglued.
Naomi had no idea how long she and Canton Wilde had exchanged that long, intense moment.
For Naomi, it felt as though time had stood still. Unconsciously, she brought her fingers to her forehead to wipe away the sweat she knew just had to be there.
Dear God, the man had brought her to a heated mess with just a look. But it was more than a look. It was a sensual exchange, the likes of which she’d never experienced.
“Girl, ummm, are you okay?” Alyssa asked, a look of concern etched on her pretty face.
“Yeah, I’m good... I, just, uh, was checking out everything,” Naomi murmured, trying to gather her wits about her enough to form a coherent reply. “That’s all,” she replied, forcing a casual smile. “So this is game night, huh? Looks like fun!” she went on, completely flustered from her exchange with Canton Wilde, but trying desperately to adopt a cheerful facade for her friend. “I should have let you bring me here before! Of course, as I’m just now legally able to, I guess that couldn’t have happened, huh?”
Naomi clamped her mouth shut, feeling as though she were blabbering. Nerves. That’s all it was.
Rattled nerves had her blabbering incoherently, sweating and acting crazy.
She offered Alyssa another shaky smile, hooked her jacket over the back of her bar stool and climbed back onto the high-backed chair.
She hastily lifted her drink from the table and brought the cool glass tumbler to her lips.
Alyssa was watching her carefully, a concerned look on her face.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Naomi waved her concern away with a flip of her hand as she took a healthy swallow of the drink Alyssa had ordered them.
The alcohol smoothly went down, the taste a curious blend of sweet and sour; oddly mellow, and very good.
Moments later, the liquid began to burn her throat slightly. But it was too late; Naomi had drunk half the glass before she realized its potency.
She scowled and placed the drink on the table, and gave her friend a look. “Girl, what in the world did you order for me?” she asked with a squeaky voice, the strength of the alcohol compromising her vocal cords temporarily.
“Oh, it’s not that bad! It’s just
