Boston Avant-Garde: Impetuous (4 page)

“You’re so crass.”

“No, if I was crass I’d tell you just how good it can feel when a big, brutal-looking man with multiple piercings buries his face in your pussy and makes you come right before he fucks you so hard you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

She hadn’t known it was possible for Selena to blush that particular shade of red. Too bad Desiree didn’t have the balls to admit she knew firsthand how good that felt. Let alone that the big, brutal-looking man was a bartender named Nicolai Anastas who was quickly becoming the star player in all her fantasies.

Pressing her palms to her face, Selena turned and walked away. “Danny has the car out front. You’ve got three minutes to be in it.”

* * * *

“Did you get her number?”

Nicolai didn’t look up from the wad of receipts he was tallying. “Why, Flynn, you want it?”

Flynn reached inside the cooler, rearranging the beer so he could fit the rest of the case inside. “Sure, why not? She’s a pretty piece of ass. If she’ll fuck a big, scary bastard like you, she’ll have no trouble hooking up with a charmer like me.”

Nicolai shouldn’t have cared if she hooked up with Flynn tonight and the rest of the bar over the next week. She was just another spoiled rich girl playing on the wrong side of town. She was probably waking up in her big bed in a Brookline mansion somewhere, giggling about her wild night. She’d go back to her safe, boring life and marry some corporate flunky like a good girl should. Hell, he’d probably been her last fling before she settled down.

“Of course, I’m going out on a limb by assuming you’d let me live long enough to fuck her after I called her.”

Nicolai raised his gaze from the adding machine. He’d been so lost in thought that he had no idea what the tally was on last night’s take. “You can have her. I’m not staking a claim.”

“Oh, not at all.”

“In fact, if she comes in here tonight, tell her I’m too busy for little girls.”

Flynn reached for another case of beer. “You working the kitchen tonight?”

“Donal’s taking his nephew to see the Sox play.”

“Trisha coming to work some tables?”

He was glad they were back to mundane topics. “She wants the extra tips to get ready for Christmas.”

“Girl shouldn’t have had four kids. I say down with Santa when you have to buy that many presents.”

“I don’t even want to know why the two of you are discussing Santa Claus.” Erik Aasen appeared from the direction of Jack’s back entrance.

“Hey, boss man, didn’t know you were back in town.” Nicolai took Erik’s offered hand.

Erik sagged against the bar. “My baby sister is getting married in less than six days. My mother more or less demanded Talia and I get here to help with the last-minute stuff.”

Flynn snorted. “My condolences. Sounds like a real estrogen fest.”

“No shit. It wouldn’t be so bad if I at least liked my future brother-in-law.”

Nicolai couldn’t imagine Erik disliking someone without a reason. “You don’t like her taste in men? Or nobody will ever be good enough for your sister?”

“It isn’t that. On the surface he seems like the perfect guy, but the longer I talk to him the more I feel like I don’t know him at all. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, though. Which means, what I think doesn’t matter.” Erik stabbed his fingers through his dark hair. “My being here is more of a favor to my older sister anyway. She’s fed up with all the wedding hassle.”

Flynn perked up. “Is she single?”

“She’s not one of your one-night stands, Flynn. My sister is in the market for something long-term and connected, if our mother has anything to do with it. Although, if you’re that desperate for female attention, you can spend your weekend at Sachs hauling around her shopping bags.”

“At least any sister of yours wouldn’t need me to finance a spending spree.”

Nicolai wondered if Erik’s sister really had those goals or if that was just what was expected of her. It reminded him of his little wild girl. This was the same kind of life that had her tied in knots. Maybe excessive shopping dampened the effects of massive sexual frustration. Who knew?

“Anyway, since I’m here.” Erik turned back to Nicolai. “I have a proposition for you.”

“It doesn’t involve another bar fight where you get your ass beat, does it?” Nicolai’s relationship with Erik Aasen went back to a time when Erik had been avoiding the responsibility of his family’s corporation by engaging in truly idiotic, self-destructive behavior.

“No, but it does involve you regaining ownership of this place.”

Nicolai straightened. He’d lost the bar in a bad poker game. Erik had stepped in and bought the debt to keep him from losing it altogether.

“How long has it been?”

“Ten years, eight months, nine days.”

“You ready to buy it back?”

Even coming from Erik, Nicolai was wary of things that sounded too good to be true. “You sure you want to sell?”

“Ten years is a long time to stay clean. I’d always intended to give it back when you were ready. Talia brought it to my attention that you tend to be too hard on yourself. She thinks you’re ready, and I think she’s right.”

Erik’s wife was about as close to an angel as Nicolai could’ve imagined. “God really cut you a break when he let that woman walk into your life, you know that?”

“Guess you should’ve stolen her when you had the chance.”

Flynn snorted. “Oh, I think the big, bad man here has found his own angel.”

Erik gestured to Flynn, and the bartender passed him a cold bottle of beer. “Do tell.”

“Nicky won’t tell you shit. He told me not five minutes before you walked in that I could have her number as long as I promised to tell her he was too busy for her if she popped in here again.”

Nicolai wondered if it was possible for Flynn to be any more of a big mouth.

“Is that right?” Erik took a swig of beer, his dark gaze glued to Nicolai.

Flynn was just getting warmed up. His expression carried that hint of the devil that always promised trouble. “She blew in here last night, took one look at Nicky, and never looked at anyone else.”

“She give a name?”

Nicolai remembered the college boy who had bought her a drink. She hadn’t wanted him, but she’d been so willing to take what little she could get. Why? He’d accused her of playing by all the rules. After tasting her wild passion, he was beginning to think otherwise.

“She give you a name, Nicky?” Flynn asked.

“No.”

Flynn eagerly returned to his storytelling. “She gave one of those Harvard prats a fake name, something crazy. Could’ve sworn she was going to leave with him until she met the big guy. He poked at her a bit, and she lit into him like a regular hellcat. You should’ve seen it, Erik! Better than reality TV.”

Erik finished his beer and twirled the neck of the bottle between his fingers. “But she never gave a name?”

Flynn rubbed his hands together, no doubt relishing the best part. “Girl leans over the bar, kisses Nicky, gets him all hot and bothered, and then goes upstairs with him. You believe that? Knew her less than five minutes and spent the next hour with her in his bed!”

Nicolai didn’t like Erik’s speculative gaze. Erik Aasen had a shrewd mind, and they’d been friends for too long. Nicolai banded the receipts together and put them in the deposit bag with the cash. “I need to make a bank run.”

“I’ll do it.” Erik held his hand out for the bag.

“It’s no problem. I need to run a few errands and get some air.”

“You remember when I first brought Talia in here?”

Aw, hell.

“That was the first night I’d met her. She was supposed to be a onetime thing, but I think I knew my life would never be the same.”

Nicolai didn’t bother trying to explain to Erik that he had nothing to offer a girl like that. He’d already given her everything he had. Even if the two of them had forged some kind of strange connection, there was nothing there to sustain it. He had nothing but the bar, and that was if he could ever manage to get it back.

“It’s dinner out. Couldn’t you have at least made yourself a little more presentable?” Her mother leaned down and air-kissed Desiree’s cheek. “Harmon is here. You should’ve worn that new dress I picked up for you last week.”

“Thanks, but I’m not that desperate for a walk down the aisle.”

“Delia Desiree Aasen, I just want what’s best for you.” Mother brushed her fingers across Desiree’s cheek before taking her seat.

As always, hearing her full name reduced Desiree to a little girl. She’d spent most of her life trying to be the woman her mother wanted her to be. Mama did want what was best—she just couldn’t understand why they couldn’t agree on what best was. Desiree wanted to belong, to make her mother happy. But to Annaline Aasen, happiness was marriage to the right man and a good review on the society page. And tonight the right man was Harmon Wilhelm, the last guy Desiree would ever want to spend her life with.

Pasting a warm smile on her face, Desiree bit back half a dozen sarcastic responses to her mother’s prodding. It would do no good to start an argument right there in the restaurant. Across the table, Selena and her fiancé were having their center-stage moment. Jackson’s family and several close business associates sat in clusters around the table.

Her mother had reserved a private dining room for, what seemed to Desiree, another in an endless parade of engagement parties. An elegant crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling. The windows were draped in lengths of richly brocaded red fabric. Their table was set with enough ornate silverware and expensive courses to service a royal feast.

Ignoring the boring array of table conversation, she entertained thoughts of what would happen if the chandelier suddenly fell in the middle of the table. One had to imagine Selena might not be too upset if she became the tragic, star-crossed heroine. As long as the story appeared beside a full-color photograph in the
Herald
, she would wind up pretty happy with the results.

“You look stunning this evening, Desiree.”

She had to take a quick swallow from her water glass to remove the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. The smug smile on her younger sister’s face indicated that she’d most definitely encouraged cousin Harmon to swap seats and plant himself beside Desiree.

“So what have you been up to since we chatted back in April?”

April? They’d talked in April? Desiree could vaguely remember seeing him for all of two minutes at one of Selena’s parties. “Nothing interesting. How about yourself?”

It was the right thing to say. Harmon waxed poetic about some new merger he was spearheading at the family firm. Desiree had never been interested in business. That was her brother’s thing. Even when Erik hadn’t wanted to run Aasen International, he’d been good at it. Besides, she wasn’t supposed to be interested in the business. Her job was to look pretty, plan social events, and eventually breed heirs for whatever man she managed to attract. Given that, it was really no wonder she’d wound up in bed with Nicolai. One night with him was better than a lifetime of conventional sex.

As far as men went, Harmon was pretty well exactly what Desiree was supposed to be trying to attract. Too bad the idea of living with him for the rest of her life made her gag. She was only five feet six, but he was an inch or two shorter. He’d combed his pale blond hair sideways to cover the round, shiny spot on top of his head. He wasn’t ugly. He was just boring. No imagination, no passion, no fire, nothing—but he was supposed to be the pinnacle of her accomplishments in life.

The anger and bitterness she usually kept so carefully contained bubbled up, and she had to grind her teeth to keep quiet. It was 100 percent stupid that a grown woman in the twenty-first century couldn’t make basic decisions about what she wanted to do with her life. She’d had four semesters of college only to drop out when her mother refused to allow her to study interior design because it was a waste of her time and talents. Now she spent her days shopping and redecorating because she had nothing else to do.

Is that really true, or is it just a more palatable excuse?

“Desiree?”

Oops, she hoped Harmon hadn’t been waiting for an answer to some complicated business question. “I’m sorry, Harmon. I was just wondering why my brother never arrived this evening.”

He patted her hand. “You’re a good sister to him. I can tell.”

Good sister? She was ready to rip Erik’s balls off at the moment. How he managed to play hooky from a boring dinner and still come off looking like a squeaky-clean, perfect son, she’d never know. The man had even managed to convince their mother it was better for him to maintain a primary residence in New York City. So now he and his wife lived out of state, and Desiree got to manage their mother.

Her gaze drifted to the head of the table where her mother was having a tête-à-tête with a handsome man only a handful of years older than Desiree. Not that Mama would ever admit it, but she had had more than a few little nips and tucks over the years. The result was a woman who often passed for their older sister instead of their mother. Annaline Aasen also had her daughter Selena’s svelte dancer’s body instead of Desiree’s fuller figure. The pair of them had naturally blonde hair, sexy green bedroom eyes, and husky voices that made men drop at their feet. It was disgusting.

The memory of Nicolai’s beautiful brown eyes ghosted through her mind. Something told her a man like him would be utterly immune to her sister’s and her mother’s charms. He wouldn’t put up with their ridiculous flirting games. He was too real.

Her body tingled, a zing whizzing down her spine until it came to rest at her core. Nothing in life had prepared her for Nicolai, for the way he made her feel. Alive, as if she were beautiful and powerful. She’d known beyond a doubt that, to him, she was perfect. His touch alone made her body melt, even after he’d walked away. Nicolai’s last words about the nature of one-night stands burned like a wound that wouldn’t close.

Harmon cleared his throat. “I was wondering, since dinner seems to be more or less over, if you’d like to go out for a drink. I know a fabulous martini bar not far from here.”