Page 11 of Lying Hearts
Chapter Seven
Brendan
Ass, ass, everywhere, ass.
Who will be the lucky lady?
Mark’s rooting for me. He shoots me a look that says, check it out. I follow his eye-line, landing on a pair of steel-blue peepers that belong to a girl who may or may not be carrying a voodoo doll hidden in her pocket. Yeesh. She can’t be who Mark wanted me to look at, so my eyes shift right, catching sight of the real prize – a platinum blonde number doing her best Madonna impression, circa not at all Like A Virgin. Her dress is smoking. Those green eyes are off the charts hot. And she’s not looking at Mark. It’s like he doesn’t exist. She’s looking right at me like she’s waiting for me. Well, Blondie, here I am.
Mark takes his cue and moves out of the way. Smacks Tommy, too. Tommy does a discreet double take and clears the runway. I lock eyes with Blondie and smile my sexiest smile. “Hey. What’s your name?”
Blondie’s eyes dart to the Queen of Darkness. Impatiently I watch a secret communication going on between these two. Not interested in waiting, I step forward and stand in between them, fully blocking any further dialogue. “I said, what’s your name, gorgeous.” I made my voice extra deep for that line. It hits the target. I smell it in her pheromones. She’s mine… I think.
“Corinne. And this is…” she tries to get around me, but I block her again.
I look at her lips, thinking how I want to suck the red right off them. “Corinne. Corinne…” I lean in to grab her full attention. “Beautiful name.”
Blondie melts. “Thank you,” she breathes, her eyes turning sultry, despite herself. I’m getting the hang of this. Something in her stare shifts like she wants to bring Ghouly Girl into the conversation. I’m not having it.
“Is there a place we can go and talk?”
“Oh. Uh… I really shouldn’t… uh.” Her eyes dart away guiltily.
“Are you afraid of leaving your friend?” I turn to Blacky McBlackerstein and raise my eyebrows a little. “You’re okay on your own, right? You’re a big girl?”
Something in my veins tenses as I look into her eyes. They’re so blue it’s crazy. She looks at me like I should know something. With enough sarcasm to make Vince Vaughn jealous, she mutters, “Whatever will I do without her.” She holds my stare despite my own will power. It’s like I can’t look away. It’s she who breaks our connection first, turning to push past Tommy who’s watching like he’s got front seats at a 49ers Playoff game.
“What the hell was that about?” I ask him, staring after her. He shrugs. Mark watches her, too, and I turn back to Blondie, who’s also watching Gollum’s exit with her bottom lip twisted worriedly to the side.
“She’s hard to get to know,” she explains.
“Who’d want to try?” I chuckle, taking her hand. “You however, I want to learn all about you. What makes you smile…” I lean in and hold my lips by her earlobe for a very long beat. “What makes you moan. What makes you scream my name.”
“Oh… my.” Her breasts lightly rise in surprise and accidentally touch my chest.
I take her hand, flip on my heel and lead her off to a dark corner where we can talk. I shoot a triumphant look to Mark who’s coolly impressed. “The Power of Intention,” he calls after me, quoting the title of the book he has on his toilet. He’s obsessed with that thing.
“Looks like I could have wrote it!” I call back, receiving a sly grin from him. Blondie of course hears this, but she doesn’t care. She’s not the kind that takes us guys too seriously, which means she’s perfect.
Taking lessons from what Rebecca did to me, I expertly push Blondie up against a wall, silently telling her with my eyes that I plan to do things to her that she can’t imagine. The effect is instantaneous. She looks back at me with pure lust. A smile flickers across her 1940’s style pin-up-girl lips. She leans her head back in invitation and never stops holding my stare. I brush my lips against hers.
“Hang on,” she says and smears off her lipstick with her hand. “That better?”
“That’s very considerate of you.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Fuck yeah. Do you want to get out of here?”
She bites her bottom lip as her eyelashes flicker to my mouth. “I don’t know…” There’s a war inside her that’s surrendered to faster than the French. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Who knew life could be this easy? There is no way I’ll get attached to a girl like Blondie. She has love-her-and-leave-her written all over her clothes, her hair, her smile. And I appreciate the clear signal. Man, do I.
I take her hand. “Come on!”