Surely somewhere in this sea of women was one just for him.
One. That’s all he wanted. He wouldn’t admit it to Josh — hell, he barely admitted it to himself — but he’d grown tired of superficial relationships and one night stands. He was ready for a commitment. Ready to find “the one”.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes locked with a woman sitting alone at the center table. She maintained the contact for a second, then blushed furiously and dropped her head, breaking the electrical connection.
Eric wasn’t disappointed. He knew a guilty flush when he saw one. Apparently she’d been looking at him for quite awhile and he’d caught her staring. The thought buoyed his confidence.
He knew he wasn’t bad looking. He had thick black hair compliments of his mother and his muscles were courtesy of the long hours he put in on his construction sites. But tonight he was going against some stiff competition. Grimacing inwardly at his second bad pun of the night, he sat his glass aside. He’d definitely had enough to drink.
While the woman continued to study the tablecloth with alarming intensity, he studied her. Her dark hair was thick and lustrous, curling slightly around a smooth face dominated by wide green eyes he’d only caught a brief glimpse of. A set of pouty lips made his dick jump at the thought of what he’d like her to do with them.
“Damn.” He shifted on the stool trying to rev back the throttle his brain had put on his body. He hadn’t even met her yet. Didn’t even know her name or if she was available — or interested.
That was the tricky part. Working up the courage to put yourself out there. Getting shot down was never fun, but he’d never know if he didn’t at least try. Leaving his empty glass on the bar, he walked toward her table, keeping his eyes on the woman’s down bent head as he dodged and weaved through the mass of bodies obstructing his path.
“Hi.” Smooth Eric.
At least it got her attention. Her big green eyes widened as she stared up at him, a look of disbelief flitting briefly across her face. That small hint of vulnerability tugged at Eric’s heart and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He wondered if she knew how easy she was to read.
“Hello.”
Her voice was soft and melodic and Eric thought how well it suited her. Up close, her skin was flawless perfection and he’d bet it would be heaven to touch. To stroke.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” His hand rested lightly on the back of the chair next to her.
An embarrassed blush stole across her cheeks. “Oh, yes, please.” She put a hand to her flushed cheek. “I don’t know where my manners are.”
Eric pulled the chair out just enough to make room for his big body, leaving it close enough to hers that their knees touched as he sat. He felt encouraged when she didn’t move away.
“My name is Eric Daniels. What’s yours?”
“Emily. Emily, umm. Emily.”
“Too soon for last names?”
“Maybe.” She held out her hand.
When his hand closed around hers, Eric felt an electrical charge that went straight to his groin.
Something about this woman made every other woman in the room fade away. She exhibited an air of wide-eyed innocence and a sultry-come-hither vibe at the same time. The combination was as erotic as hell and Eric found himself vowing to protect her from the wolves in the room while simultaneously wanting to throw her on the table and fuck her like a two dollar whore.
“Can I buy you a drink, Emily?”
“I’d like a Pink Flamingo, please.”
Her smile nearly took his breath away.
The waitress who brought the drinks was different than the snooty one before and Emily was glad. She didn’t need drop dead gorgeous doing any comparison shopping.
“Have you ever been to one of these parties before?”
Emily nursed her drink and tried not to openly stare at the hunk of manhood sitting so close that his blue jean clad knees brushed hers. The rough denim against her silk stockings made her pussy clench. Would his calloused hands feel as good against her naked thighs as he held them open before he went down on her?
He was a lot of man. And she liked big men. He was also a man she didn’t want getting away. She couldn’t see the entire number on his chest; his very large arm was covering the right hand side. All she could see was an eight. But heat stoked through her. He wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t his type, would he?
No. He was totally focused on her.
For now.
If she wanted him to stay awhile, she’d better find her tongue.
Oh the things she could do to him with her tongue.
“This is my first one.”
“What?” He shook his head, touching a hand to his ear indicating he couldn’t her over the music and the crowd. He leaned in closer and so did she.
Shit, he smelled good.
Emily licked her lips and felt her inner diva clap as he followed the movement with heated eyes. “My first.”
“Do you need to see my numbers, Emily?” He took the white card from his chest and laid it on the table between them. The number eighteen started up at her and for once in her life she was grateful for her size. Was it possible that this man could want a woman like her? Holding her gaze, he reached behind his back and found the other card.
A number one followed by a two. She couldn’t control the small gasp that escaped. Y-e-s-s! She’d hit the jackpot.
The heat in his eyes flared brighter. “Are you interested in finding out what goes on in those back rooms, Emily?”
Well, hell, Eric hadn’t meant to cut to the chase like that. He was usually a little smoother. But the deep vee of her blouse gave him a perfect view of her ample charms and the throb behind his zipper short circuited his normal charm.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” A small sexy frown formed between her brows and he knew the innocence he felt radiating off her was real.
“Don’t answer that yet. Let’s get to know one another a little bit first.” He knew he had to slow down even though his dick was dying from the mental strangle hold he’d put on it. Eric put a warm hand on her knee, stopping her words with a shake of his head. He squeezed the soft flesh. “Okay?”
He was overpowering, potent, sinfully male. And his virility surrounded Emily like a fog, locking her in a sensual haze that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d consumed. An inner voice screamed loudly for her to shed her inhibitions, tamp down her fear, and follow this man wherever he led.
But what if you can’t satisfy him?
She mentally beat back her self-destructive self-esteem.
“I’d like that.” She smiled seductively and her inner diva applauded again.
For the next several minutes they exchanged the usual personal information and she learned that he owned his own construction company, was presently building his own house in the suburbs (oh my!), enjoyed sports (shocker), and had a brother named Josh. She finally gave him her last name and he rewarded her with another firm squeeze on her leg. It wasn’t her imagination when his hand landed an inch or two higher than before. She wanted Eric’s hands there — and everywhere.
“I’ve never been married but I’m a firm believer in the institution. I come from a large extended family. My parents have been married for a long time.”
Hmmm.