Boston Avant-Garde: Impetuous (2 page)

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She turned to face her would-be suitor. He wasn’t bad looking if you liked the I’m-a-cute-blond-beach-bum type. He looked like he’d spent all summer on Martha’s Vineyard or Cape Cod. It was just now September. He’d probably come back to finish up his degree at someplace like Harvard or Boston College.

He showed her a mouth full of perfect white teeth. “Well, sweetheart, what will it be?”

At this point, she had nothing to lose. “Cosmopolitan.”

“You heard her, Nicky. Make the lady a Cosmopolitan.”

Preoccupied with her new boy toy, Desiree hadn’t noticed the bartender. Turning, she found herself staring at a massive man. With a clean-shaven head and face, his broad-shouldered frame was six feet tall and corded with muscle. He wore a black T-shirt, his biceps bulging beneath the short sleeves. Unable to rip her gaze away from his stunning physique, she noticed the fitted cotton peaked over his nipples in a way that suggested they were pierced to match the small silver hoops in both his ears.

Oh. My. God.

She crossed her legs to ease the aching wetness in her pussy. Her lacy demi-cup bra was like sandpaper against her puckered nipples. She hadn’t even seen the lower half of his body, but she’d bet her trust fund the guy was packing some serious heat in his crotch. This was what the sex club scene had been missing.

Nicky the bartender deftly flipped a martini glass in his big hand before dumping Smirnoff and triple sec inside. He swirled it expertly in one hand while using the other to reach for the next ingredient. The cranberry juice seeped through the liquor, making red swirls as he stirred with a glass stick that vaguely resembled a miniature version of a certain toy she kept stashed in her nightstand.

“Lemon or lime?”

Desiree was suddenly too tongue-tied to respond, and she was never tongue-tied. She knew instinctively that this man could rock her world from the inside out. Her pussy had responded more viscerally to the smooth baritone of his voice than it had to her last three lovers. She was so turned on she was going to leave a wet spot on the bar stool.

“You look like you prefer them by the book.” He looked sideways at the beach bum buying her drink and put a thin slice of lemon on the lip of her glass.

By the book? He thought she preferred things by the book? Her cheeks grew warm, and she clenched her teeth to avoid screaming. If that were true, she wouldn’t have been in a bar called Jack’s. She’d have been prancing through the master suite of some Brookline estate, dressed in a designer negligee, trying to tempt her workaholic husband into having sex in order to procreate and raise the next generation of Boston’s elite. She’d have settled down years ago just like her mother wanted her to, just like her sister was about to do.

“So, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Beach Bum was trying to get her attention.

Nobody in this bar would’ve known her, but Desiree had made a conscious choice to leave her regular life behind for at least one night of fun. “You can call me Dizzy.”

Beach Bum leaned in closer. “Baby, you can make me dizzy all night long.”

His words suddenly struck her as practiced and hopelessly immature. He was male. He wanted to fuck. Well, dammit, so did she! Why bother with all the small talk? From the corner of her eye, she could see the bartender’s chest move as he suppressed a chuckle. Anger, helplessness, and years of repression swelled to mythic proportions inside her head. Snatching the lemon slice from her drink, she lobbed it at the bartender. The fruit bomb bounced off the big man’s bare head and plopped right into the drink he was mixing.

Beside her, Beach Bum froze. Sliding down off the bar stool, he moved away from her toward the buddy he’d been chatting with earlier.
Coward.

“I don’t usually recycle the lemons around here, little girl.” The bartender tossed the contents of the glass into the sink.

“And I don’t play by the book. So maybe we’ve both learned something new.”

“Little girl, you’re so predictable it’s like reading a script.”

The man was insufferable. “Oh, I’m predictable, but you’re the original bad boy with those rings in your ears, barbells through your nipples, and a name like
Nicky
.”

He placed both hands flat on the bar and leaned over until his face was only inches from hers. His eyes were a beautiful rich brown flecked with gold. Her heart began to hammer, her breath coming quickly. He was unbelievably attractive. He was sexy. No. He
was
sex—sex waiting to happen. She thought of all the Beach Bums who’d ghosted in and out of her life. Starting in prep school, her mother’s list of acceptable boys had read like a who’s who of the world’s most boring dates. If any of them had packed this much charisma, she might’ve stuck with one.

“My name is Nicolai Anastas, and I think bad
man
might be a better description.”

She watched his lips form each word, their smooth surface giving her all sorts of decadent ideas. For once, why couldn’t she have the sexiest man on the planet? Did she have anything to lose? She’d left the estate with every intention of finding down and dirty sex. Instinct told her that Nicolai the bartender could serve that up better than anyone else she’d ever met.

Before she could change her mind, and before he could guess her intention, Desiree leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. She felt his surprise, and she used the moment to cup his face and pull him closer. He tasted amazing—spicy and male. She didn’t want to stop, but she wanted to see his reaction. Pulling back slowly, she was unsettled to realize that his eyes were wide open and staring right at her.

“Was that supposed to be a kiss, little girl?”

The bemused look in her green eyes told Nicolai she’d most definitely thought that chaste little peck to be a kiss. His cock was in danger of strangulation from his jeans. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard for any woman, let alone a sassy little piece of goods who was obviously slumming in the wrong part of town. Her unschooled kiss did nothing but make him want more. Hell, he wanted the whole package. He wanted to unwrap her and go over every inch with his lips and tongue.

If her cultured words and tone didn’t give her away, her clothes did. He had no doubt she was worth millions. She looked it in her designer black leather skirt and low-cut halter top. Even with her strappy five-inch heels, he’d be able to look straight over the messy knot of dark brown hair piled on top of her head.

He reached over the bar and cupped the back of her head with one palm. “This is a kiss.”

He covered her mouth with his, reveling in the feel of her instant submission. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Delving deep, he tasted her passion. She was sweet like honey, with a hint of wild. She made tiny noises of pleasure in the back of her throat. The sound was intoxicating. He wanted more, but the bar between them prevented it for the moment.

When he broke away, she was gasping for breath. The creamy tops of her breasts rose and fell before him, so close he could have dipped his head to press a kiss to each one. Such uninhibited passion mixed with so little experience. How the hell had she wound up in a bar like Jack’s?

Her lips were damp and swollen from his kiss. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t want to stop, but he knew he should. She wasn’t the type of woman he took to his bed. He preferred older, experienced, and a complete lack of strings. “If I don’t stop now, you might not like how far we’ll go.”

“Then go all the way.”

“Where? Here in the bar?” She was a determined girl. What would it hurt to humor her a bit? She’d obviously come looking for a quick fuck. In a way she was lucky she had picked him to play with. The average male out to get laid wouldn’t have been willing to hit the brakes when she changed her mind at the last minute. And she would.

“The bar, the bathroom, a storage room, in the alley out back for all I care.” She picked up her handbag and slid off the bar stool, obviously ready to get down to business.

Damn, she was a sexy bit of fluff. He was half tempted to show her the alley behind Jack’s just to teach her a lesson, but something in his gut rebelled at the thought of treating her that way. She deserved better.

They’d gained an audience. The other bartender on duty was staring at Nicolai as if he’d lost his mind. “Keep an eye on things out here for a few minutes, Flynn.”

Flynn gave her a thorough going-over, lingering over her full breasts and rounded ass. “A few minutes?”

“Just long enough to send the little girl running for home.” Although Nicolai really couldn’t call her a shrinking violet. Hand propped on her hip, she was already waiting for him by the walk-through where the two wings of the bar met in the center of the L.

“If he leaves you hanging, love, look me up.” Flynn turned on the Irish brogue.

A jolt of irrational anger caught Nicolai completely off guard. Flynn’s parents had been Irish immigrants, but his accent was almost nonexistent. The only time he played it up these days was when he was trying to score.

Masking his sudden loss of control, Nicolai turned and stalked back through the kitchen. He didn’t have to look to know she’d followed. Her heels clacked along on the stone floor behind him. Both cooks looked up at the intrusion. The looks on Logan’s and Donal’s faces made Nicolai rethink his decision to take her upstairs. The whole incident was going to wind up being far more trouble than it was worth.

He turned on the light in the stairwell and started up the steps.

Her footsteps slowed. “Where are we going?”

“My apartment is upstairs.” He turned around and looked down at her, glad he didn’t have to go any further with this silly charade.

She reached hesitantly for the railing. The emotions flitting across her pretty features plucked a chord inside him. What was it that had her so tied in knots? He could practically smell her frustration. She set her chin and took a determined step forward.

Nicolai sighed. God forbid he should ever have a daughter of his own. If he did, she’d better not ever be naive enough to follow a strange man into an upstairs bedroom.

His apartment had the warm, stuffy feeling of being closed all day. Reaching out, he flipped the switch to start the window unit. It hummed to life, kicking out a cool blast of air. The room was dim, with only the streetlights casting orange ribbons of light across his warped hardwood floors. The unit was one big room, his king-size bed dominating the back wall, a small kitchen with an island on the opposite side, and a small living area tucked in between.

He turned to find her glancing around with apparent interest. She kicked off her heels and walked toward one of the windows. “Some people would kill for a corner unit in this housing market.”

Leaning against the kitchen island, he waited to see what she would do. Judging by the amount of pacing and fidgeting, her confidence had melted away. She paused before his bed, eyeing the rumpled, dark bedsheets. He’d thrown the covers back when he’d woken up that morning and hadn’t taken the time to pull them up.

“Is this where you bring all your dates?” She gestured to the bed. “Next time you should change the sheets between one-night stands.”

He didn’t respond. It was obvious his silence was bothering her. He was curious to see how she’d react.

Her cheeks filled with air, and she puffed out a big breath. “Okay, so how do we go about this?”

“I think that’s up to you, little girl.”

She unzipped her beaded bag and pulled out what had to be a whole package of condoms. Nicolai chuckled in spite of himself. What had she been planning on doing tonight?

Picking one up, she eyed the packaging before putting a corner between her teeth and ripping it open. She pulled out the condom and held it gingerly between thumb and index finger. “I’m pretty sure you have to unzip your pants for me to get this on.”

He was overwhelmed by a desire to protect her, even from herself. Any other man would’ve had her on her back with her legs in the air. “Go home, little girl.”

Something stubborn and determined touched her face, and for just a moment, Nicolai was in awe of her strength of purpose. “Oh hell no, Nicolai.”

Damn, if he didn’t enjoy hearing his name on her sweet lips.

“We’re in your apartment. There’s you and me, a great big bed, and plenty of condoms.” She walked right up and glared into his eyes before flinging the condom at his feet. “I’m getting laid.”

He might have held on to his principles if she hadn’t started stripping right there in front of him. She reached behind her neck and undid her top, letting the silky material fall down to expose her lacy black bra. His cock throbbed, his hands twitching at his sides as he tried not to imagine how soft and full her bare breasts would feel.

She unfastened her skirt and let it fall into a puddle around her feet before stepping clear. More black lace cupped her hips, satin ribbons anchoring her stockings in place. The sassy minx wasn’t wearing panties, and her pussy was shaved bare. His cock was so hard it was practically clawing its way out of his jeans, and his hands burned with the need to touch her. He was going to implode with the effort of remaining still.

“Your turn, Nicolai.”

Did she
know
he liked to hear her say his name? Sweat beaded on his bare head, sliding down his neck to the collar of his T-shirt. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back.

She unclipped her stockings, removed the garter belt, and tossed them onto the discard pile. Propping her foot on the edge of his bed, she carefully unrolled one stocking before switching legs. A spurt of precum soaked the inside of his boxer briefs. He wasn’t even sure she was trying to do a striptease. She looked like she was in a hurry to get down to business.

She turned her back to him and unclasped her bra, letting it fall and leaving her utterly naked. “I guess I should have asked downstairs. Are you gay or something?”

No, he was not frigging gay! He was trying to be a gentleman, dammit. And she was not cooperating. Her full-figured body might not have fit the cultural mold of svelte beauty, but she was everything Nicolai had ever looked for in a woman: full breasts, lush hips, curvy in all the right places with smooth skin and attitude. Yes, she had that in spades.