Pitbull: He plays hard on the field...He plays harder off it. (2 page)

I glanced at my glass. It was almost empty. "If you're sure," I said.

He gave me a smile that made my nipples tingle. "Oh, I'm sure," he said, "I'm Jack, by the way."

"I'm Megan," said my flustered friend. "And that's Emily."

That? Thanks Megan.

Jack extended his hand towards me and I took it, feeling the hidden strength in his gentle grip. "I'm pleased to meet you, Emily," he said, "that's a lovely name."

I think I
actually
batted my eyelashes and
actually
giggled. "Thank you, your name's nice too."

Megan's hand flew across the table in a blur of flesh and a jingling of bangles. She grabbed Jack's free hand and held it for a moment. "Yes, Jack is a lovely name. It's a
strong
name."

Jack laughed, and released his hands from ours. "You two entertain yourselves and I'll get the drinks," he said, rising from his seat, Megan's eyes following every inch of the long journey to his full height.

We watched as he walked off to get the drinks, scything a path through the people that insisted on standing at the bar even after they'd been served. Women sneaked adoring glances at him and men gave their girlfriends and wives warning stares as they ogled him.

Megan leaned across the table to make herself heard over the drone of conversations and the eclectic mix of music. Abba had been playing when we'd entered the bar, and as Megan opened her mouth to speak, Lady Ga Ga was singing about poker faces.

"Oh. My. God!" said Megan, "Oh. My. Fucking. God."

I had to agree. "I know. You don't see many men like that on their own in a bar," I said.

Megan turned her head towards the bar where Jack was waiting patiently to be served. "Does he look familiar to you?" she said.

His face
had
rung a bell in my head, but I was sure that if I'd seen him before I
would
have remembered.

"I think he's just got one of those faces," I said.

Jack caught me looking at him and winked. I turned away, my cheeks hot and my mouth dry. Megan's face dropped. "I knew it," she said.

"You knew what?"

"He's into you. Not me."

Such a revelation coming from Megan was an event of
massive
proportions. Megan was the girl that got the man. She always had been. She was tall, slim, blond, and she possessed a pair of boobs that made men's mouths water. Well, they'd made
one
man's mouth water for sure. I'd seen
it myself. He'd
actually
been salivating as he chatted her up, his eyes lingering on the vast expanse of fleshy cleavage that Megan had been showing off in a low cut dress.

I'd long ago resigned myself to the fact that when men approached us, it was Megan they were interested in. I still had a sneaking suspicion that my ex-fiancee had first had his eye on Megan when he'd sauntered onto the dance floor and joined us as the countdown reached zero, and 2014 had begun. I was certain that I'd only got the new year's kiss because Megan had almost vomited eight hours' worth of cocktails over her little black dress.

I smiled and tried to shrug off her suggestion. It was embarrassing. I knew I'd lost a huge amount of weight, but I still had a spare fourteen pounds that needed to be jettisoned. A man like Jack wouldn't have been interested in me, and I could live with that. I shook my head. "I
highly
doubt that, Megan," I said.

Megan sneaked another look at him. "He's looking at you," she said, "
and
he's got that look in his eyes."

"What look?"

Megan rolled her eyes and narrowed her lips. She leaned closer. "
That
look… the look that says
I want to fuck her."

It was a good job that I'd swallowed my mouthful of wine because I snorted — a loud snort that made me shake. "He doesn't want to
fuck
me Megan. He just wants some company. Like he said, he was bored in that corner."

"Emily, Emily, Emily," muttered Megan, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "How naive you've become since you met David. I remember a time,
long long ago
, when you were
way
more streetwise."

"When I was like you, you mean," I smiled.

"You mean sassy and bold, a woman who knows what she wants and then takes it?"

"No," I said, "I mean…
you know,
I was a girl who…"

"Played the field? Did what most men do?" Megan opened her eyes wide and placed her hand over her open mouth in a convincing impression of a woman in shock. "You couldn't possibly mean a woman who…" She lowered her voice to a theatrical whisper. "… enjoys
sex
, and even
has
the aforementioned sex?"

I smiled. "Something like that," I said, twisting the base of my wine glass on the table.

"Well, Emily Slater — It's been over seven months since you last slept with a man. If you don't do it soon, the next man you meet will need a hammer and chisel to get between your legs. You know what they say happens if you don't use it."

"Always the crude one, aren't you, Megan," I sighed, "it's in perfectly good working order, thank you very much."

"So… give it some action tonight. With that absolute stud who keeps sneaking peeks at you."

"Are you suggesting I have a one night stand?"

"Correct!" laughed Megan, "that is
exactly
what I'm suggesting." She fixed me with an intense stare. "I know men, as you know. And I
know
that Jack is in the market for a one night stand too. You need to get back in the saddle, and if you don't saddle that absolute
stallion
and ride him until you're sore, then I absolutely will!"

I blushed. I wasn't used to talking like that with anyone. Megan was right — it had been too long.

"I can't," I said.

"And why, pray tell, can't you?"

"Well… just…"

"Listen up and listen good," said Megan,
really
leaning in close to my face. "There's a condom machine in the ladies, and you heard what he said, his room is on the same floor as ours, so if you get cold feet you won't have far to go. I'm also absolutely sure that there's a saying… what happens in London, stays in London."

"Vegas," I laughed.

"Bah, Vegas, London… who cares? They're both cities of sin!"

"That's what I mean, Megan. It's not a sin to have a one-night stand, but —"

Megan gripped my hand and stared me deep in my eyes. "What was it you used to say… '
as long as it does you no damage, do what the hell you want, and don't feel judged by the constraints of societal expectations.'
"

"Not those exact words, but close enough for the win."

Megan settled back in her seat. "He's coming back. If I get a cast iron signal from him that he's into you, I'm going back to the room with a bottle of wine."

"It's your night too," I protested, "don't you dare."

"I'd walk over glass to see you get laid, Emily. You need it."

"You may be a doctor." I said quietly, "but you're certainly no bastion of moral integrity."

"Yes, I'm a doctor, and I prescribe you a night of unbridled passion with him." She made a hushing sound as I opened my mouth to speak. "He's here," she said.

Jack arrived at the table, towering over us, and Megan moved her seat a little further away from his.

"Here we go, Ladies. Sorry about the wait," he said, sitting down and placing a bottle of wine and a beer on the table.

As he poured the wine I took the time to study him a little more. He
was
hot, there was no denying it. His eyes were a beautiful blue that matched the colour of his hair and complexion, and his body was off the scale. His tight grey t-shirt looked ready to split as the muscles of his chest and shoulders bulged against the fabric, and his tattooed forearms rippled with strength as he raised the wine bottle.

To hell with it
. Megan was right. I did need to let my hair down, and the throbbing between my legs had intensified dramatically since he'd moved his seat a little closer to me and his leg had made contact with mine.

I made the final decision — I decided that if I got the chance…
I would have sex with him.

Chapter Three

Jack

It was her friend, Megan, that was ruining my chances. It was obvious from the dynamics between the two girls that it was her who was used to getting all the attention. I couldn't see the appeal myself, to be honest. Yes, she was pretty, but Emily — she was a vision of beauty, and that wasn't just the alcohol speaking.

Up close, her emerald eyes shone brightly from the pale freckled skin of her face, and a single beauty spot graced the left side of her chin, a fingers width below her full bottom lip.

It was the hair that made her stand out though. A beautiful red that reminded me of my history lessons in school — in particular, Queen Boadicea, her fiery hair billowing as she rode her chariot into battle.

Emily was one of those women that made such an impression on you that you just
had
to have her, and that was what I intended to do — have her.

I'd watched the girls speaking to each other as I'd waited at the bar, and from the furtive glances that they'd both been throwing me, it wasn't hard to deduce that they'd been speaking about me.

As I poured them a wine each, Emily first, I brushed my leg on hers, and the way her chest rose in response as she took a deep breath told me all I needed to know. I
could
have her.

Megan had moved her seat slightly further away from me, she'd no doubt got the message that it was her friend I was interested in, and not her. I edged my chair a few inches nearer to Emily and pressed my calf against hers. She didn't move so I left it there.

"Business or pleasure?" I said, directing my question at Emily.

"Pardon?" she said, the soft lines of her forehead forming furrows as she deciphered my question. "Oh, I see," she said, "we're staying here for a medical convention nearby, so business I suppose."

"But pleasure tonight?" I said.

Emily's eyes widened, until she understood what I meant, or
thought
she did. "Yes, we wanted to let our hair down a little before we went home," she looked at her friend. "Didn't we, Megan?"

Megan yawned. A big, mouth open wide, theatrical sort of yawn, complete with the hand over the mouth
and
accompanying sound effects. "Yes," she said, "but to be honest, Emily, I'm feeling a little tired. It's been a busy day. Now that you've got somebody else to talk to, would you mind if I went up to the room? I'll order some wine from room service and watch a film."

Emily's pale face became even paler. "Urm, yes, I suppose that would be okay. If you're
sure
you want to."

"Oh, I'm
sure
," said Megan, and from the looks she was casting in Emily's direction it was obvious that there was more to it than a simple case of tiredness. Megan was setting us up. I could have kissed her, but that would have scuppered my chances with Emily, so I refrained. Instead, I ignored the whole interaction, pretending to study the label on my beer bottle which proclaimed it was Belgium's oldest and finest lager.

Megan stood up, and I couldn't help checking out her arse as she turned to grab her bag which hung over the back of her seat. Nice, but nothing like the arse I'd seen on Emily as she'd stood at the bar. They were like chalk and cheese. Megan's was small and tight, whilst Emily's was larger and fuller, and looked like it was made to be held onto as a man took her from behind.

I took a deep breath and controlled my dick.

"Are you sure about this, Megan," said Emily, "I mean
really
sure. I'll come with you if you like."

That wouldn't do. "And leave me on my own?" I said, widening my eyes into the look that had been described in the past as puppy dog eyes. A ridiculous name, but the effect of the look on women over the years had been remarkable. "I'm only just getting to know you."

"He's right," said Megan, bending down to kiss Emily on her cheek. "You stay here, and make sure you have
fun
."

The emphasis on the last word made it
abundantly
clear that she was setting us up. If I'd had any doubt before, it had been washed away with her last sentence.

Megan turned her attention to me. "Enjoy yourself," she said, with a sly grin, and gave me the quickest of winks.

"It was lovely meeting you," I said, "enjoy the film."

We both watched Megan making her exit, and when she'd disappeared through the wide arch that led to the elevators and stairs, I turned to Emily.