One Night - Page 3

“Tymber?” I ask, sitting down on the worn barstool next to her. Her gaze roams over me. She is even more beautiful in person. Her wavy brown hair is down around her shoulders. I want to reach out and touch one of the curls to see if it’s as soft as it looks, but I don’t. I don’t want to scare her. The powerful thoughts running through me right now would do just that.

“Hayden?” she asks, nodding.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” I say extending my hand. When she puts her tiny hand in mine, I feel the heat between us. We stare at each other as it sizzles. I am drawn to her on a level I didn’t know that I had. I want to take her home and chain her to my bed. I never want to let her go. At least not until she admits that she’s mine.

“You too,” she finally says.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks interrupting us. He sets coasters down in front of us.

“I’ll have a bottle of Bud Light, please,” she says. I don’t like the way his eyes roam over her like I am not even sitting here. I clench my fists at my side.

“I’ll have the same,” I say gruffly causing his eyes to snap to mine.

“Can I see your id’s?” We both hand ours over. “Coming right up,” he says sliding them back over to us.

“So, what do you do?” I ask.

“Did we not talk about that earlier? I don’t actually have a job right now. I just graduated from college in January. I haven’t found anything that suits me yet.”

“That’s understandable. There’s still plenty of time to decide.”

“Yeah, tell that to my mom,” she says laughing.

“I’d be glad to,” I say. I boldly reach out and put my hand over hers. She doesn’t move away from me and I suddenly feel about a thousand feet tall.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t get all fan-girly, but what’s it like playing football? What I mean is, how much pressure do you feel walking out there every Sunday?” I frown for a second. No one has ever asked me that before. I typically get the glory type questions.

“It’s a lot of pressure, but the best kind of pressure. I thrive on it,” I answer honestly.

“It shows. I’ve seen every home game you’ve played. I have season tickets. I can see it each and every time you take the field.” When I don’t say anything, she makes a sound in the back of her throat. “I’m not a crazed fan or anything, I just notice things.”

“I didn’t think you were.” I chuckle and her responding giggle goes all through me.

“Good. I imagine those types are kind of scary.” The bartender sets our drinks down and walks away to help another customer. We both gulp down some of the beer.

“They can be. I don’t get that vibe from you at all,” I say after setting the bottle on the coaster.

“Oh good. I recognized you right away, but I tried to play it cool. I was afraid I came off as insane.”

“Not at all.”

As we continue to talk, my initial assessment of her continues to be true. She is amazing and just what I’ve been looking for.

I finally know what my dad has been talking about all this time.

I am falling for this girl and I can’t stop it. Not that I want to.

We finish our beers, yet we linger continuing to talk. Eventually, she puts her hand on my thigh.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asks.

Has there ever been a better set of eight words strung together?

No, there hasn’t been.

Even though she doesn’t know it yet, she is mine.

Forever.

3

Tymber

I don’t know what made me act so rashly, but it feels right. His cock is hard under my hand and I am playing it cool on the outside. On the inside, I am dying. I did that to him. He’s even hotter in person and I don’t ever want this one night to end. He needs a haircut. His brown hair falls into his eyes, and I want to push it away. How dare those errant locks cover those intense blue eyes?

“That sounds good,” he says. Suddenly, I get this vision of him doing this sort of thing all the time. Picking women up in bars and taking them home. I am irrationally jealous.

What should it matter what he did before he met me? I know it shouldn’t but it does. I don’t want to be one of many. I want to be special.

“Um, do you do this a lot?” I ask hesitantly.

“Do what?”

“Take a lot of women home?”

“No. Never.”

“Never?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes. of course.”

“Don’t go selling this to the tabloids, now,” he says leaning closer to me. His lips brush my ear and I almost melt into a giant puddle right then and there.

Tags: M.K. Moore Romance
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