Call On Me. Roni Loren

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Call On Me - Roni  Loren

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Since she’d informed him that she had a daughter, he’d turned off the flirt. A small, selfish part of her was disappointed. Not that she had any interest in pursuing anything with anyone right now, especially with someone like him, but it had been kind of heady getting that kind of attention thrown her way. If nothing else, it had reminded her that the sexual part of herself wasn’t totally dead. Even now, that warm energy hummed through her as she surreptitiously watched Pike lick a dollop of red sauce off his thumb. He had a pouty bottom lip that would look feminine if not for the hard angle of his jaw and the scruff. She kind of wanted to bite it—see if it felt as plump as it looked.

      He glanced up, caught her staring, and smiled. “So, wanna screw in the bathroom?”

      She startled and stiffened, instantly yanked out of her less-than-PG thoughts. “What?”

      He leaned back in his chair, vague confusion on his face. “I asked if you wanted to keep working in that back room? We could rehearse at the studio once they’re close to being ready to record. But until then, it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth to cart everyone over there. It’s not that big of a place.”

      “Rehearse in the back room?” she repeated, running the words back in her head to make sense of them. “Oh, right, yes, that’s fine. I’m sorry. I thought you said something else.”

      She eyed the small Bellini she’d ordered with her meal. Maybe that had been a bad idea. She was hearing things now.

      Screw in the bathroom? How the hell had she gotten that out of what he’d said? Of course, now all she could think of was him doing just that—taking her by the elbow and leading her to that dark alcove at the back of the restaurant, pushing her up against that wall with the faded Italian flag on it, and putting his hands all over her. She licked her top lip, tasting the sweet remnants of her drink. Pull it together, woman.

      Apparently, once her libido had been brave enough to peep its head out, it had decided it was Groundhog Day and needed to run around, declaring spring was coming early. She hated to break the news, but nothing and no one was coming anytime soon.

      “What did you think I said?” Pike took a long sip from his drink, his snake-charmer eyes never leaving hers.

      She followed suit, hoping the fruity drink would cool off more than her throat. “Doesn’t matter.”

      His lips twitched. “You’re all red.”

      “I think it’s the Bellini. I don’t drink very often.”

      “No way.” His expression turned smug. “You thought I said something dirty, didn’t you?”

      “Huh?” She smoothed her napkin in her lap, trying to loosen the tightness in her voice. “No. Why would I think that? You’ve been very professional since we got here—which I appreciate, by the way.”

      His gaze slid lazily down her body, like butter melting over toast, and goddamn it all to hell, she could feel her nipples go hard and obvious beneath her bra. No wonder he’d figured it out. Her body was waving all kinds of flags in his face. Hey! Over here! Horny girl, booth eight!

      “I am capable of being professional, you know,” he said, but his tone was all sex and sin. “I’m also more than happy to turn that off when the occasion calls for it. So why don’t you tell me what you thought you heard and why it’s gotten you all flushed and nervous?”

      “I’m not nervous.”

      He grinned.

      Dammit. She schooled her face into a stoic expression. “The music is too loud in here. I thought you propositioned me to defile the restroom.”

      His eyebrow ring twitched. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on with those big, stiff words of yours.”

      All she heard was big and stiff at first, but she managed to rein in her temporary insanity. “We’re so not going to do this.”

      “Well, probably not here, you’re right. I saw those bathrooms. But—”

      “No, I mean, any of this. Flirting. Teasing. Whatever this is.”

      He leaned onto his forearms, looking all too pleased that he’d gotten a confession out of her. “You got a guy?”

      “No,” she said before she could get wise and fib.

      “Then why can’t we do this?”

      “Because I’m not interested.”

      “Liar.”

      She huffed. “Are you always this cocky?”

      “No, it’s dialed down right now. I can get way worse.”

      She stirred her drink. “Not. Possible.”

      His lips spread into a menacing smile. “Challenge accepted.”

      “No, that’s not—”

      But he was already getting up from his side of the booth. He slid smoothly into the spot next to her on the cracked vinyl seat. He put his arm along the back of the booth, near to touching her, and leaned in close. “I dialed it back because what I could’ve said was how if you heard what you heard, it must’ve been on your mind already. That those pictures must be there in your head. Were we in a stall? Or bold as you please up against a wall?”

      “Stop,” she said softly, somehow frozen in place, the clean scent of his shampoo mixing in with the heavy oregano smell of the restaurant and making her head spin.

      “So that was it, huh? Against the wall where anyone could’ve walked up and seen? That would’ve been hot. Legs wrapped around my hips. I could’ve unpeeled all these layers you’ve wrapped yourself in.” He touched the collar of her blouse but not skin. “I could’ve also said that I saw the want in your eyes before I knew what question you’d thought I’d asked. That your body jumped to attention like I’d stroked you. That you can tell me no and to shut the fuck up. But you can’t tell me that you’re not interested because I can see that truth all over you.”

      She swallowed hard, fighting her body’s response as he let his gaze drift down and over her curves. No way was she going to let him get to her like this. She did this for a living. She talked dirty to men every damn night and they talked dirty back. But never had words rushed through her system like these. Every part of her was now achingly aware of just how long it’d been since she’d let a man touch her. But there was no way she’d allow herself to act on it with him. She cleared her throat.

      “Does this usually work for you? A little dirty talk whispered in a woman’s ear and she’s all over you? Or maybe you just tell them you’re in a band and that’s enough.” She turned to send Pike a frosty look. “Back off, Mr. Ryland. You’ve entered a restricted area.”

      His eyes flared with heat, like her attitude only turned him on more, but he moved back and gave her space. “If you think that’s dirty talking, you’ve been seriously deprived.”

      She pointed. “Back to your side.”

      He raised his palms. “Not a problem. All I want to know is why not?”

      Because attraction clearly

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