nectar, so I took a slight step to the side. I silently reminded myself that Aleksandr was a player, not someone I should get involved with. He’d told me himself that he was with a different puck bunny every night. And I didn’t want to step into an uncomfortable, immature pattern of hooking up with someone I still had to see every day. I didn’t. Even if the over-caffeinated insects wreaking havoc on my insides had their own agenda.
“You are beautiful.” Aleksandr took a step closer. A larger step than the one I’d taken away from him. His firm, flat stomach pressed against my arm when he bent to speak into my ear again.
“You are drunk.”
He laughed, a sexy, husky growl. “I am, but I’m not blind. You looked so fucking hot dancing on that bar.” He hadn’t been yelling this time. His voice was just above a whisper, with a guttural rasp.
Instinctively, my shoulder rose to my ear, itching the tickle of his breath. I tried to stay composed, despite being turned on by the knowledge that he’d been watching me.
“Thanks.” I took a long gulp of my drink to halt the words on the tip of my tongue. Confessing that I thought he looked hot every minute of every hour of every moment I spent with him might give him the wrong impression. I couldn’t respond to his flirting. Not when he thought of me as a conquest to screw and dump.
“Blah.” I raked my teeth against my tongue a few times, trying to get the taste off. Nothing like being saved by a disgusting drink.
“What is it?” Aleksandr asked.
“I asked him for plain club soda. They must’ve put gin or something in it.”
“Who’s ‘him’? All the bartenders are women,” Aleksandr asked, taking the cup from my hands and bringing it to his nose.
Of course he’d know all the bartenders are women. He’d probably had an orgy with all of them.
“The guy who came with one of our friends bought me a drink.”
Aleksandr tossed my cup into a nearby trash bin and grabbed my hand. His warm fingers laced through mine, squeezing so we wouldn’t disconnect as he weaved us through a group of people hanging out in front of the bar.
Aleksandr nodded his head at a bare-bottomed bartender. “A shot of vodka and a plain club soda with three limes.”
Skimptastic winked at him before turning around to get cups. Her shorts, which were barely there in front, were nonexistent in the back, just two high-cut half moons that showed off her ass-et. Sure, she had fishnet stockings underneath, but did holey tights leave anything to the imagination?
No reason to be jealous. He’s not yours, I reminded myself. Rather than picture Aleksandr and Skimptastic screwing on the bar, I rooted around in my purse, hunting for my wallet. Aleksandr put a hand on my arm, stopping my search.
“You don’t pay when you’re with me.”
“Why wouldn’t I pay for my drink?”
“Consider it a gift for putting up with my shit.” He smiled, that perfect white smile, which I now knew was partially dentures.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, holding out a ten I’d found. “Can’t accept gifts from clients.”
“Please,” he said. “It’s a club soda. She won’t even charge me.”
When Skimptastic came back with our drinks, Aleksandr accepted them both before handing one to me.
“Thanks, Sasha.”
“I’m Sasha now?” He poked me in the rib cage, a smile creeping across his face.
“Yes. When you do nice things like get me a new drink,” I responded, pushing his arm away with an elbow. His teasing made me want to giggle, but giggling was not an option.
“I’ll do nice things more often. Shouldn’t be a jerk to my beautiful translator.”
“Yeah, let’s get back to that.” I turned to face him, ignoring the shiver of lust that shook my body when he’d called me beautiful. “You never begged for my forgiveness.”
“I wouldn’t beg for forgiveness.” Aleksandr leaned closer. His fingers skimmed the back of my leg where the hem of my dress hugged my
“You are beautiful.” Aleksandr took a step closer. A larger step than the one I’d taken away from him. His firm, flat stomach pressed against my arm when he bent to speak into my ear again.
“You are drunk.”
He laughed, a sexy, husky growl. “I am, but I’m not blind. You looked so fucking hot dancing on that bar.” He hadn’t been yelling this time. His voice was just above a whisper, with a guttural rasp.
Instinctively, my shoulder rose to my ear, itching the tickle of his breath. I tried to stay composed, despite being turned on by the knowledge that he’d been watching me.
“Thanks.” I took a long gulp of my drink to halt the words on the tip of my tongue. Confessing that I thought he looked hot every minute of every hour of every moment I spent with him might give him the wrong impression. I couldn’t respond to his flirting. Not when he thought of me as a conquest to screw and dump.
“Blah.” I raked my teeth against my tongue a few times, trying to get the taste off. Nothing like being saved by a disgusting drink.
“What is it?” Aleksandr asked.
“I asked him for plain club soda. They must’ve put gin or something in it.”
“Who’s ‘him’? All the bartenders are women,” Aleksandr asked, taking the cup from my hands and bringing it to his nose.
Of course he’d know all the bartenders are women. He’d probably had an orgy with all of them.
“The guy who came with one of our friends bought me a drink.”
Aleksandr tossed my cup into a nearby trash bin and grabbed my hand. His warm fingers laced through mine, squeezing so we wouldn’t disconnect as he weaved us through a group of people hanging out in front of the bar.
Aleksandr nodded his head at a bare-bottomed bartender. “A shot of vodka and a plain club soda with three limes.”
Skimptastic winked at him before turning around to get cups. Her shorts, which were barely there in front, were nonexistent in the back, just two high-cut half moons that showed off her ass-et. Sure, she had fishnet stockings underneath, but did holey tights leave anything to the imagination?
No reason to be jealous. He’s not yours, I reminded myself. Rather than picture Aleksandr and Skimptastic screwing on the bar, I rooted around in my purse, hunting for my wallet. Aleksandr put a hand on my arm, stopping my search.
“You don’t pay when you’re with me.”
“Why wouldn’t I pay for my drink?”
“Consider it a gift for putting up with my shit.” He smiled, that perfect white smile, which I now knew was partially dentures.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, holding out a ten I’d found. “Can’t accept gifts from clients.”
“Please,” he said. “It’s a club soda. She won’t even charge me.”
When Skimptastic came back with our drinks, Aleksandr accepted them both before handing one to me.
“Thanks, Sasha.”
“I’m Sasha now?” He poked me in the rib cage, a smile creeping across his face.
“Yes. When you do nice things like get me a new drink,” I responded, pushing his arm away with an elbow. His teasing made me want to giggle, but giggling was not an option.
“I’ll do nice things more often. Shouldn’t be a jerk to my beautiful translator.”
“Yeah, let’s get back to that.” I turned to face him, ignoring the shiver of lust that shook my body when he’d called me beautiful. “You never begged for my forgiveness.”
“I wouldn’t beg for forgiveness.” Aleksandr leaned closer. His fingers skimmed the back of my leg where the hem of my dress hugged my
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