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Taking Charge


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Trying to navigate my way around the tables on these ridiculously high heels was a challenge, but somehow I made it. Plonking my ass onto a bar stool, I almost fell too far, causing me to land in some random guy’s lap. 
Except it wasn’t just some guy.
It was Beau.
Of course it was him. He was the one I’d been dreaming about for weeks, and here I was, pissed and horny, so of course he was there. 
“Whoa! You all right there, Payton?” He helped me back onto my stool, holding onto my arm.
Shrugging him off, I smiled. “Thanks, Beau.”
“Ah! You got my name.”
“Who else?”
“What can I get you?” The bartender appeared before us, snapping my attention away from Beau’s hypnotising gaze.
“Two quick fucks, please.”
I hadn’t thought how that would sound until I was covered in Beau’s beer. Looking up, I caught the shock in his face.
“Sorry,” I quickly apologised, embarrassment flooding me.
This guy was a magnet for all my stupid. I couldn’t do or say anything around him without ending up wanting to crawl into a hole and die. 
Feeling his warmth against my skin, I breathed in his scent and fell on my ass. Even though I’d seen him hours earlier in his suit, now it was dishevelled he looked even more edible. The jacket was nowhere to be seen and the sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled up, exposing his forearms. His very muscular forearms. It was like arm porn.
“You don’t look like a quick fuck to me.” I swear I almost died at his words. They may have been a few words, but the look in his eyes confirmed there was nothing innocent about them. When he added, “I’d say you’re more of a screaming orgasm kinda girl,” I choked on my own tongue.



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