Chapter 1
Brianna took a seat at the long, walnut-colored bar and looked around for the bartender. Aside from one table of ancient men playing poker in the corner and one rather lumpy looking large dude shooting pool, the place was empty. She checked the delicate silver watch Andrew had insisted she wear - one of the first things on her list to get rid of tomorrow. Was it really late enough for last call?
A white napkin slipped into her vision, topped efficiently with a highball glass of a creamy looking caramel liquid. On the rocks.
She grinned, reaching for the glass.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. What do you say when someone buys you a drink?”
Brianna looked up into the most beautiful chocolate-brown eyes she’d ever seen, thick-but-not-bushy eyebrows raised expectantly above them.
“Thank you,” she said, winking as she raised the glass to her lips. The smooth Irish cream was exactly what she’d needed after a night of awful champagne and even worse company. Things were definitely looking up.
“That will do for starters, I suppose."
His rich voice vibrated under her skin, and moisture slicked between her thighs as she crossed her legs. Raising one eyebrow, she made a show of looking him up and down, what she could see of him, anyway. The t-shirt did nothing to hide his sculpted torso, and her fingers itched to explore that particular playground. Where Andrew’s jaw was smooth and narrow, this guy’s face was all chiseled angles with a hard, square jaw. Normally she preferred long hair, but she could deal with the dark military buzz he was sporting. For one night, at least.
“Starters?” She leaned forward on the bar, using the loose top Andrew had picked out to full advantage. Finally free of the psychotic jerk, she may as well get one more thing from his clothes before she burned them all. “I’m dying to know what dessert will be.”
The bartender laughed, reaching out to trace a finger between her unfettered breasts. “Be a good girl tonight, darlin’, and maybe you’ll find out.”
His words were like cold water splashed in her face, and she sat up, leaning away from his touch. Her head told her she was being silly, that he hadn't meant anything, that it was just harmless flirting. But that didn't stop the rest of her from shivering as she tossed back the rest of her drink and reached for her purse.
"Stop."
She didn't want to obey, but he had that tone that she'd been trained not to ignore. Freezing in place with her hands braced on the bar, she shot him a scathing look as she waited obediently. As long as the bar was between them, she reasoned, things wouldn't get out of hand. If he came around, she'd run, consequences be damned.
He bent down to look in her eyes, the cool indifference she expected missing from his gaze. The warm concern was disconcerting, but she relaxed the tiniest bit when he nodded.
"I'm James," he said finally, holding out his right hand. Brianna slowly placed her palm against his, shocked at how comfortable the connection felt for a brief moment before he pulled away. "I just have one question before you go running off, if that's okay."
Off-balance, Brianna nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Who's the Dom I need to beat up for abusing you?"
Brianna gave a nervous little laugh, and dropped her gaze. What were the odds that the very next guy she ran into after escaping Andrew would be a Dom too? She needed to get out now if she didn't want to make the same mistake twice in one year, and considering how attractive James the Bartender was, it would be too easy. No more submissive play for her. Been there, barely escaped with a t-shirt. And a few scars to remember the bastard by.
She smiled brightly, looking James in the eye again. "Thanks, but no need to go all caveman. Sweet of you to offer, though. I really need to get going..."
He nodded, his gaze implying he knew more than he was letting on. "Let me give you this." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out a
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