Pleasured in the Playboy's Penthouse

‘I’ll have two “screaming orgasms” and “sex on the beach”.’

Bella studiously watched the bartender line up the five shot glasses. She didn’t want to turn and look in his eyes again, not entirely sure she wouldn’t be mesmerised completely. But peripheral vision was very handy. She was motionless, seemingly fixated on the bartender as he carefully poured in each ingredient, but in reality she was wholly focused on the guy next to her as he pulled out the bar stool next to hers and sat on it. His leg brushed against hers as he did. It was a very long leg, and it looked fine clad in the faded denim. She could feel the strength just from that one accidental touch.

Silently, shaking inside, she went to lift the first glass in the line-up. But then his hand covered hers, lightly pressing it down to the wood. Did he feel her fingers jerk beneath his? She snatched a moment to recover her self-possession before attempting to look at him with what she hoped was sophisticated query.

His bright blues were twinkling. ‘Have the orgasm first.’

She could feel the heat as her blood beat its way to her cheeks.

The twinkles in his eyes burned brighter. ‘After all, you can always have another one later.’

She stared at him as he released her. He’d turned on the widest, laziest, most sensual smile she’d ever seen. Spell-bound wasn’t the word. Almost without thinking, she moved her fingers, encircling the second shot.

‘What about you?’ Why had her voice suddenly gone whispery?

‘A gentleman always lets the lady go first.’

So she picked up the orgasm, kind of amazed her hand wasn’t visibly trembling. In a swift motion she knocked the contents back into her mouth and swallowed the lot. She took a moment before breathing—then it was a short, sharp breath as she absorbed the burning hit. Slowly she put the glass back down on the bar.

His smile was wicked now. He’d picked up the sex shot, pausing pointedly with it slightly raised, until she did the same. She met his eyes and lifted the glass to her lips. Simultaneously they tipped back and swallowed.

Slamming his on the bench, he picked up the next shot. Then he paused again, inclined his head towards the remaining orgasm.

‘You know it’s for you.’ That smile twisted his mouth as he spoke and its teasing warmth reached out to her.

There was no way she could refuse. She couldn’t actually speak for the fire in her throat. So she picked up the shot and again, eyes trained on him, drank. And he mirrored her, barely half a beat behind.

It was a long, deep breath she drew that time. And her recovery was much slower. She stared for a while at the five empty glasses in front of them. And then she looked back at him.

He wasn’t smiling any more. At least, his mouth wasn’t turned up. But his eyes searched hers while sending a message at the same time. And the warmth was all pervasive. The burning sensation rippled through her body, showing no sign of cooling. Instead her temperature was still rising. And she wasn’t at all sure if it was from the alcohol or the fire in his gaze.

Wow. She tried to take another deep breath. But the cool of the air made her tingling lips sizzle more. His gaze dropped to her mouth as if he knew of her sensitivity. The sizzle didn’t cease.

She blinked, pressed her lips together to try to stop the whisper of temptation they were screaming to her, resumed visual contemplation of the empty shot glasses. She should never have looked at him.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, studying him peripherally again.

He shrugged, mouth twitching, lightening the atmosphere and making her wonder if she’d overemphasised that supercharged moment. Of course there was no way he would be hitting on her. Now his eyes said it was all just a joke. As if he knew that if she thought he was really after her, she’d be running a mile. City slicker vixen-in-a-bar was so not her style. But she’d decided anything could be possible tonight. Anything she wanted could be hers. She was pretending, remember?

‘So are we celebrating, or drowning sorrows?’ He flashed that easy smile again. And it gave her the confidence that up until now she’d been faking.

‘Celebrating.’ She turned to face him.

His brows raised. She could understand his surprise. People didn’t usually celebrate in a bar drinking all by themselves. So she elaborated.

‘It’s my birthday.’

‘Oh? Which one?’

Did the man not know it was rude to ask? She nearly giggled. But he was so gorgeous she decided to forgive him immediately. Besides, she had the feeling his boldness was innate. It was simply him. It gave her another charge. ‘My flirtieth.’

‘I’m sorry?’ She could see the corners of his mouth twitching again.

‘My flirtieth.’ So she was making an idiot of herself. What did she care? This night was hers and she could do as she wanted with it—and that might just include flirting with strangers.

‘You’re either lying or lisping. I think maybe both.’ His lips quirked again. And the thing was, she didn’t find it offensive. So he was laughing at her. It was worth it just to see the way that smile reached right into his eyes.

‘How many have you had?’ he asked. ‘You seem to be slurring.’

Not only that, she was still staring fixedly at him. She forced herself to blink again. It was so hard not to look at him. His was a face that captured attention and held it for ever. ‘These were my first.’

‘And last.’ He called the bartender over and ordered. ‘Sedate white wine spritzer, please.’

‘Who wants sedate?’ she argued, ignoring his further instructions to the waiter. ‘The last thing I want is wine.’ The urge for something stronger gripped her—something even more powerful, something to really take her breath away. She wanted the taste of fire to take away the lonely bitterness of disappointment.

‘Not true. Come on, whine away. Why are you here, celebrating alone?’

He’d do. The blue in his eyes was all fire.

‘I’m not alone. My family is here too—my sister is getting married tomorrow in the resort.’

His brows flashed upwards again. ‘So why aren’t they here now celebrating your birthday with you?’

She paused. A chink in her act was about to be revealed, but she answered honestly. ‘They’ve forgotten.’

‘Ah.’ He looked at her, only a half-smile now. ‘So the birthday girl has missed out on her party.’

She shrugged. ‘Everyone’s been busy with the wedding.’

The spritzer arrived, together with a bottle of wine for him and two tall glasses of water.

‘Tell me about this wedding.’ He said wedding as if it were a bad word.

‘What’s to tell? She’s gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. A successful, wealthy, nice guy.’

He inclined his head towards her. ‘And you’re a little jealous?’

‘No!’ She shook her head, but a little hurt stabbed inside. She wasn’t jealous of Vita, surely she wasn’t. She was truly pleased for her. And no way on this earth would she want Hamish. ‘He’s solid and dependable.’ The truth came out. ‘Square.’

‘You don’t like square?’

She thought about it. Hamish was a nice person. And he thought the world of Vita—you could see it in the way he looked at her. He adored her. That little hurt stabbed again. She toughed it out. ‘I like a guy who can make me laugh.’

‘Do you, now?’ But he was the one who laughed. A low chuckle that made her want to smile too—if she weren’t having a self-piteous moment. He sobered. ‘What’s your role in the wedding?’

‘Chief bridesmaid,’ she said mournfully.

His warm laughter rumbled again.