Tessa Teevan - Incinerate

I wonder what the hell I’m doing here when the bar door opens and three sexy-as-sin men fill the entrance. Two of the guys are laughing as one leads the other on crutches to an open table right near the bar. They’re both attractive, the taller of the two with dark black hair cut short and just enough facial hair to look like he’s been ignoring his razor for a few days. His smile is killer, reaching all the way to his eyes as he laughs at something the shorter, cute blond guy says as he gestures to the other guy in the trio.

When he comes into view, the sight of him stops my breath. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, I-just-got-done-chopping-wood kind of way. His tall stature probably puts him at six foot two at least, and the way the tight t-shirt hugs a muscular frame has my mouth watering. I haven’t been this attracted to guy in…well, ever. It took Drew three times to ask me out before I finally said yes, but right now I’d take all my clothes off and dance on the bar if this guy wanted me to.

Down, girl. I shake the dirty thoughts of his wood out of my mind and continue to check him out shamelessly. My eyes are drawn to the cast on his left arm, and I notice his slow movements, indicating that he may be injured in other places. He definitely has the soldier look, freshly shaved face and buzzed hair. The thought that he’s a wounded warrior from Ft. Campbell crosses my mind, and I’m suddenly reconsidering Lucy’s rebound suggestion.

At this point I’m all but staring as he braces against the table to sit down. I notice the hard jawline of his face, his cheeks flexing as if in pain. The dark-haired guy places his arm on his shoulder, and the rugged man simply shakes his head and holds up a hand in a gesture that says ‘I’m fine.’ A moment later, his face transforms as he gives a heart-stopping smile to the waitress, showcasing dimples in both of his cheeks. Something about his features draws me in, and I have to make a conscious effort to stop looking at him before he realizes he has a stalker.

When I turn back to my drink, I suddenly feel lonely, even though Lucy wanted this to be a fun night out for me. Okay, she did invite me over there, but I declined. She said that she’d stay back with me, but I waved her off, telling her I’d be fine by myself. And here I am, sitting at the bar while Jenna and Brad are sucking face in the corner and she’s still off flirting with the pool players. Sighing, I order a beer and spend another twenty minutes or so playing around on my phone, getting more and more irritated at my friends. I’m almost ready to leave when I feel a presence next to me, and a masculine scent fills the air. It’s a mixture of wintery pine and cleanliness, and somehow I know it’s him.

Glancing up, I notice the sexy dimpled guy next to me trying to get the bartender’s attention, and I wonder why, since he had that waitress earlier. If I were her, I’d be making sure he was taken care of all night long. And yes, I mean in more ways than one.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to put myself out there. I don’t know if it’s the loneliness or the alcohol talking, but I’m ready to take the plunge after two months of feeling sorry for myself.

Reaching up, I tap him on the shoulder and he finally looks down at me. I smile up at him, and I’m entranced as I take in his features up close. The masculinity shows on his face, with strong cheekbones and a squared jaw. His nose is chiseled perfection, and I feel a pool of heat between my legs as I imagine him nuzzling his face against my neck, down my body, in between my legs. His lips are full, waiting, wanting, needing to be kissed, and it takes everything in me to stop from licking my own. He’s the antithesis of Drew, and that thought spurns a fire in my belly that I haven’t felt in a long time. His left arm, the one in a cast, is situated on the bar. I can see the vast span of his hand, his long fingers stretching in the bar light. Immediately, I imagine those fingers touching me, teasing me, and I have to shake my head to get my mind thinking straight.

He looks at me curiously, probably wondering why I touched him but can do nothing but stare. Before I can speak, the bartender shows up and he impatiently places his drink order. I’m still curious as to why he’s at the bar when I saw him talking to a waitress, but to be honest, I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s here next to me where I can study him up close and personal.

Once he gets his beer, he gingerly turns towards me, as if trying not to aggravate the unseen injury I’m now positive he has. I hold my hand out to his good one, and he shakes it lightly. My fingers tingle when his touch mine, and I shiver unexpectedly, a movement that causes his eyebrows to rise as he watches me over the top of his beer.

“Charlotte,” I tell him, not sure why I decide to use my given name, seeing as everyone’s called me Charlie since I was a baby. I don’t know why, but something about this guy oozes sex appeal, and Charlotte sounds so much more appealing, sophisticated, and sexy.

His hand lingers on mine as his long fingers graze my skin. Once his shot appears, he removes himself from my touch and takes it in one quick gulp. Looking down at me, he smirks, a cocky grin spreading over his face. I clench my thighs together as a wave of lust washes over me as his gaze moves up and down my body, pausing for a moment on the ample cleavage that my halter top is showcasing. Looking back up at my face, he clears his throat and shakes his head as he catches me licking my lips.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe another time, another place, Charlotte, but not tonight,” he whispers in a sexy, hushed tone before he turns and walks away from me.

Mortified and kind of in shock, I gape after him, watching his luscious backside saunter away from me as he rejoins his friends. He glances over at me and gives me a wink, and I want to crawl under the bar and pretend I don’t exist. Of course, the first time I attempt to flirt with a man he turns me down flat. Then again, I only told him my name and stared at him like he was a masterpiece in an art gallery, drooling over him and unable to make conversation. I’m not sure that qualifies as flirting.

Rejection sucks, so when the bartender comes around, I order two shots of tequila and another beer to wash the sting of embarrassment away. I’m going to be feeling like ass tomorrow, but I’d rather forget tonight, so I down both shots in quick succession, my brain swimming, wondering why this stranger is affecting me so intensely.

The rest of the night drags on as Lucy continues to flirt with the guys at the pool table, and I begin to wonder why she even bothered to invite me. This was supposed to be an anti-guy night, drinking cocktails and dancing the night away, but it was turning out to be anything but that. I’m on an island, having switched to beer, drinking alone and playing on my phone as I watch everyone else have fun. And the one time I tried to hit on a guy? It was a failure of epic proportions, shut down before I could even get started.

Signaling to the bartender for my check, I’m ready to leave when someone plops down in the barstool next to me. Not looking up from my captivating game of Words with Friends—Dad is currently kicking my ass—I hear a throat clear, causing me to finally tear my gaze away from my phone.

A dazzling smile greets me as my eyes meet the bright blue ones of the friend Rugged Man was sitting with. Yes, I’ve deemed him Rugged Man, because I never got his name, and I-Want-To-Take-Him-Home-And-Play-Naughty-Nurse-Until-He-Makes-Me-Come Man is just way too much of a mouthful. Come to think of it, I bet he’s a mouthful, too…

Blue Eyes clears his throat again, and I can feel the crimson blush creep onto my cheeks as I push the erotic thoughts out of my mind.