Page 15 of Straight Dad
Bean:Hotty alert
Bean:The sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on just wrapped you up, and you bounced.
Bean:This isn’t about tawny, right?
Bean:Tomahawk
Bean:Dammit
Bean:Tommy
Bean:…
Me:No. I’m fine. Back in a couple.
When I walk back into the club, I walk straight into a wall of muscle. His jeans are just a hint too tight on his quads. Long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows. Forearms to drool over and a chin that could cut glass.
“Was it my breath? Or were you just afraid of your attraction for me?”
I look up, planning to give the stranger a lesson in polite conversation, and a dose of humility, only to look into the eyes of a grinning Layton Ranger. His smirk fades, and his eyebrows pinch when he sees my face.
He corrects his features quickly. What’s not quick is his measured perusal of my body. He’s unashamed and unhurried as he takes in my collarbone, cleavage, stomach, and thighs that are exposed way too close to my panty line. He tips his head as he takes in the shoes and slowly works his way back up, stopping at my belly button.
When his eyes lock on mine, he purses his lips and mutters, “Can’t say I was wrong, though.”
Alrighty then.
FIVE
RICO, THE ALBINO POOL BOY
LAYTON
I’ve had a semi for half the time I’ve been in this bar because of Pixie. Pixie wearing next to nothing and looking like Sulley fromMonsters, Inc.mated with Tinker Bell fromPeter Pan.
Great. Just fucking great.
Stop staring, Lay.
“Oh yeah? About what?” Her upturned face is set in challenge. She crosses her arms only to think better of it when her feathers push her tits higher, exposing more delicate flesh.
She drops her arms and tries to slide past me. That’s twice tonight.
I grab her wrist in my palm as she passes, stopping her retreat, and turn her back to me. “We’re not at work, and I don’t mean this as ‘harassment’” – I use air quotes. “But your dancing is sexy as hell. Just didn’t know it was you is all.”
“And what’s wrong with me?”
I throw my hands up in a don’t-shoot gesture and back away slowly. That’s a loaded question, and I won’t walk into that trap tonight.
I wink as I leave her there to soften the blow. I return to the table in the corner where my teammates are.
Or were.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” I ask Marshall when I slide into the booth.
He nods to the floor and to Carlson and Mattis dancing and flirting with a small crowd of women.
“Fake names or real ones?”