His Mimosa_The Cocktail Girls Read online

  I took a right and maneuvered my car into my designated spot outside my building.

  Nervousness hit me full-force as soon as I put the car in park. Staring at the cream-colored stucco exterior, I faced the reality of what I was about to do.

  I was about to bring a stranger into my apartment. Into my bed. Carter seemed like a nice guy, but I didn’t really know him. Sure, I’d had the occasional casual hookup before, but never in my home.

  I considered myself to be a fun, modern woman. But I was also a fun, modern woman who’d watched one too many Lifetime movies about psycho dudes.

  Biting my thumbnail, I turned to the devastatingly handsome man in my passenger seat.

  “Now, don’t be a psycho, okay? No funny business,” I said with false bravado. “My roommate has a blackbelt in karate. She’s, like, crazy good with nunchucks, and she’s really protective of me.”

  That was a complete lie.

  My roommate was a sweet girl named Eva. A pastor’s daughter. After my old roommate skipped town unexpectedly a month ago, I had to find a replacement stat. Eva had answered an ad I put on Craigslist, and before I knew it she was at my door. She’d just moved in a few weeks ago, and I hardly ever saw her since we worked opposite schedules.

  “Brynne.” Carter’s face softened as he gently pulled my hand away from my mouth. “I promise I’m not a psycho. I’m sure all psychos say that, but I mean it. I really appreciate you offering me a place to crash, and we don’t have to do anything. I’d be happy to take a nap on your couch.”

  Oh, screw being cautious.

  Grabbing his tie, I pulled his body toward mine and our faces met over the middle console.

  At first it was an eager pressing of mouths, but my lips relaxed because, damn, he was a good kisser. We hadn’t even gotten to the tongue part and I was already melting at the way his bottom lip massaged mine.

  Then Carter deepened the kiss, opening his mouth. Our tongues met at the same time and I suppressed a moan.

  He tasted good. Like mimosas and liquor and something that was just him. I scraped my fingernails over the sexy scruff on his jaw, and he groaned against my lips.

  Breaking apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “We should go inside.”

  “Agreed.” Eager for more, I was nodding and panting as I clamored for the door handle.

  Carter followed me up the steps leading to my second-story apartment. The keys jingled in my shaky hands. A few seconds later, the door was unlocked and I was giving Carter the fastest tour possible.

  “This is the living room.” I waved a hand around, motioning to the brown couch, white walls, and flat screen TV. The open floor plan had a breakfast bar acting as a divider to the kitchen with stainless steel appliances. “Not much to see, but it’s home.”

  “It’s nice,” he commented politely, and before I could chicken out, I grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the hall.

  The first door on the right was closed. “That’s my roommate’s bedroom.”

  “The nunchuck expert,” he supplied. “Right.”

  I rolled my eyes at him over my shoulder as we walked to the room at the end of the hall. “And this is mine.”

  His heavy-lidded gaze landed on the queen-size bed in the middle of the room. “Looks like heaven. And I’m getting the feeling that you really love the color red.”

  I nodded, because that was true. Red lipstick. Red high heels. Red cars.

  And my red satin comforter with matching sheets and pillows.

  “Make yourself at home,” I told him, inching my way to the bathroom. “I’m just going to change into something more comfortable.”

  When I said change, I meant ‘get sexy as fuck.’ But Carter didn’t seem to catch the innuendo because he sat down on the edge of the mattress and fell back with a groan. “This is the best bed ever.”

  I snickered. “Be right back.”

  Before disappearing into the bathroom, I stealthily reached into my underwear drawer and snagged my sexiest bra and panty set—red, of course.

  In less than sixty seconds, I’d shed the dress and I was clipping the back clasp of the bra. Running my fingers over the lace outlining my breasts, I cringed. My hands were clammy and sweaty. So not sexy.

  Squaring my shoulders, I pushed up on my boobs and fluffed my hair.

  Time to put on a brave face. Act like the sex goddess you led him to believe you are.

  I could do this. It wasn’t like I’d never had a one-night stand before. I’d just never reacted to a man this way. Something about Carter really got my motor running, which was exactly why I needed to act on it.

  Steeling myself with a deep breath, I turned the knob on the bathroom door, ready to strike a sultry pose in the doorway.

  But I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Carter sprawled out on my bed.

  My nerves were all for nothing.

  He was out cold.

  His black jacket and skinny tie were slung over the back of my desk chair, and his shoes were scattered on the floor. A few buttons at the top of his white shirt were undone and I could see a smattering of dark chest hair.

  He’d pulled the covers back but hadn’t gotten under them yet. It was like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of his attempt at crawling in, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  He looked so peaceful with his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. The worry and stress I’d seen on his face earlier was gone.

  My libido temporarily took a backseat because I was suddenly exhausted. My bed had never looked better than it did right now, and I wanted to curl up next to him.

  So I did.

  Silently slipping under the covers, I tugged at the smooth satin until it wasn’t lodged under Carter’s thigh. Then I tucked it around both of us and placed my head next to his on the pillow.

  Sleep found me in less than a minute.

  Waking up in unfamiliar surroundings wasn’t something I was used to. When I opened my eyes, I expected to see the gray walls of my bedroom.

  Definitely not my bedroom.

  Confused, I blinked once. Twice. Our hotel room had brown walls, not white.

  A light citrusy scent invaded my senses, and I was bombarded with memories of last night and this morning. The argument with Scott, the hangover, getting re-drunk on mimosas.

  And Brynne.

  She was spooned in front of me and I dipped my head down to sniff her hair. Oranges, pineapples, and mangos. I would never be able to smell any of those fruits again without thinking about her luscious ass pressed against my morning wood.

  Or was it afternoon wood?

  I was willing to bet with Brynne around, it was anytime-of-the-day wood.

  My hand was resting over her stomach. I ran it down her hip to her backside and discovered she was practically naked in just a bra and panties. God, her skin was so smooth and warm.

  She stirred and wiggled against me, and I groaned into the back of her neck.

  Stiffening, as if she was just now realizing she wasn’t alone, her hand traveled down to mine where I was practically groping her ass. She intertwined our fingers, then pulled my arm around to her lower stomach.

  Without any hesitation at all, she pushed our linked hands into the front of her panties.

  “Fuck,” I whispered as my hips involuntarily jerked forward.

  Talk about one hell of a way to wake up.

  My fingertips moved over silky, bare skin before finding her wet center. I didn’t need for her to guide me; now that I’d gotten to my destination I could take initiative.

  Shoving my hand deep, I entered her with two fingers and she spread her legs wider, hooking her foot behind my knee. She gripped my wrist as I pumped into her tight heat, curling my fingers up against her G-spot.

  That earned a gasp from her.

  The nap had been nice, but Brynne was a mysterious, unexpected, unpredictable surprise. I didn’t want to waste one second of the time we were spending together.

  My thumb began circ
ling her clit, and I kissed her shoulder before gently nipping at her skin.

  “Carter,” she moaned quietly.

  Well, she remembered my name, so that was a plus. Then again, she wasn’t the one who was drunk last night. Or, this morning rather. I couldn’t believe I just passed out on her bed like that, but I would make it up to her as many times as she’d let me before the day was over.

  Bright sunlight shone through her window and I briefly wondered what time it was.

  Then I realized it didn’t fucking matter. I was in bed with a hot woman who’d just literally shoved my hand between her legs.

  Brynne began rocking her hips, fucking my fingers. And if I didn’t have my stiff slacks separating us, I probably would’ve blown my load right then and there.

  “Carter,” she whispered again.

  Turning her head, she looked at me over her shoulder. The way she innocently bit her bottom lip was a contrast to the sensual way her body writhed in front of me.

  Removing her hand from my wrist, she brought it up to cup my cheek and she placed the most gentle, intimate kiss on my lips.

  All time seemed to halt as my heart stuttered in my chest. Just one simple action, and she stole my ability to breathe. Her kiss made me feel like I was the center of her universe.

  “Why did you stop?” She wiggled her hips, seeking friction against my stilled fingers.

  “Why did you kiss me like that?”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Because I can? Because you’re here, and as long as you’re here I can kiss you any time I want.”

  She was so direct. I was used to women playing coy, but Brynne wasn’t afraid to tell me exactly what she was thinking.

  “Fucking right, you can.” I stopped teasing her with the orgasm I knew she was close to and went at her pussy with every intention of finishing what I’d started.

  I wanted to get her off. She deserved it after being so sweet.

  “Kiss me again,” I ordered.

  This time, she wasn’t gentle. Her fingers dug into the back of my neck as she connected her mouth to mine. I stroked her tongue in time with the ministrations of my hand.

  Brynne moaned against my lips before breaking away. Panting, her hand fisted the pillow by her head as her body began to shake.

  I sped up the motions of my thumb on her clit. Increasing the pressure, I pinned her body to mine and loved the way her ass rubbed against my dick.

  If she kept going like this, I was going to come. Luckily, it didn’t take much longer for her fall over the edge.

  Arching her back, she let out a raspy wail of pure bliss as her pussy clenched around my fingers. Her pelvis jerked forward, riding out the orgasm.

  Letting my fingers slip out of her, I grazed her wet slit a few times because I wanted to wring as much pleasure out of her as possible.

  When she jolted from sensitivity, I reluctantly removed my hand from inside her panties, then gave her ass a good squeeze.

  “That was amazing,” she sighed, and I chuckled.

  There was more where that came from. But first, I needed to relieve myself of the five mimosas hanging out in my bladder.

  Then the realization hit me—Brynne served me free alcohol for an hour earlier and I didn’t even leave her a tip. I was guessing gratuity was the bread and butter for cocktail waitresses. Strike three on being an asshole. Or was it strike four? It was a really bad sign when someone lost count of their indiscretions.

  “I have to apologize,” I told her. “I totally forgot to leave you a tip this morning.”

  Squirming, she turned around to face me and I was struck again by how beautiful she was.

  “Well…” Her red lips twitched but other than that, her expression was serious. “I was thinking you could tip me in a different way.”

  I laughed. That was the last thing I expected her to say. “I have no idea how you can say that with a straight face.”

  “It’s called a poker face.” Her mouth twitched again. “And you can poke my face with your tip anytime.” Unable to keep up the solemn facade, Brynne’s sentence broke off with a snorting giggle, and we both started cracking up.

  Holy shit, she was fantastic. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. Unable to resist the urge to hug her, I hooked an arm around her back and pulled her body flush against mine.

  Her soft breasts brushed against my chest and the humor of the moment died away as I zeroed in on her cleavage. How the hell did I get so lucky? Brynne was sex, sin, and goodness, all wrapped up in delicate red lace. I couldn’t wait to get her naked.

  “Before we get to the tipping, can I use your bathroom?” I asked.

  “Go for it.” She waved a hand. “Like I said, make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks.”

  After flushing the toilet, I put my nose to my shoulder and did a sniff test. From the cigar smoke lingering in the bars to the alcohol seeping out of my pores, I was guessing I didn’t smell that great.

  I could wash up in the small sink. Or…

  I looked to the right and pulled back the gray and red striped shower curtain. Brynne did say to make myself at home, and right now nothing sounded better than a hot shower.

  Well, almost nothing.

  The woman in the other room was a temptation, but I didn’t want to smell like a brewery either. Not for all the things I wanted to do with her.

  I quickly stripped off my clothes and hung them on the hook attached to the back of the white door.

  I’d just stepped under the warm blast of water when the curtain was wrenched back.

  “Whatcha doing?” Brynne asked casually.

  Naked. She was fully naked, just standing there like we hung around in our birthday suits all the time. Her eyes fell to my semi-erect cock, which was thickening with every sweep of my eyes over her skin. Her bare pussy. Her hard nipples.

  “I need a shower,” I managed to say, my voice strained, then I demanded, “Take one with me.”

  Not asked—demanded. Because I needed to see those unrestrained tits with water and soap cascading down her skin. Because I wanted to run my hands through her wet hair. Because I wanted her to wash off the makeup and be vulnerable.

  It wasn’t fair for me to expect her to be exposed and open when I wasn’t willing to do the same. But sometimes I was a selfish bastard.

  “Not a bad idea,” Brynne said, stepping over the side of the tub to join me, then she muttered, “Figures you would have a handsome dick.”

  I choked on a laugh. “What?”

  “Your dick. It’s handsome.”

  This crazy woman. “I’ve never had anyone tell me that before. Penises are weird-looking.”

  “Not yours.” Bringing her hand up to my chest, she lightly trailed her fingertips over the definition of my pecs. My abs. The veins that popped on my biceps and forearms.

  I knew I was in good shape. When you’re the last single person in your group of friends, Friday nights can get pretty boring. I usually spent my free time at the gym, because what else was I supposed to do?

  After Brynne seemed satisfied with her assessment of my muscles, she tipped her head back to wet her hair and body.

  And I was transfixed. I watched the way the water glided down her skin. Rivers of it ran through the valley of her breasts and streams traveled to her dusky pink nipples. I wanted to catch the droplets with my tongue before they fell.

  I swallowed thickly.

  My cock was painfully hard now.

  Brynne pumped some facewash from the dispenser into her hands and began scrubbing her eyes and cheeks, removing the smoky liner and rosy blush. After it was rinsed away, she grinned up at me and my heart gave a hard thump. Without the makeup, she looked younger. A lot younger.

  “How old are you?” I asked skeptically. Obviously, she was legal if she was serving alcohol in a bar.

  “Twenty-four,” she replied, seeming amused.

  I let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t too far off from me, so I didn’t have
to feel like more of a creep than I already did.

  I expected her to ask me the same question in return.

  But she didn’t.

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed a bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount into her palm. Instead of putting her hands in her own hair, she raised her arms toward me and began scrubbing my head.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, shocked.

  “Washing your hair,” she replied, like it was a totally normal thing to do.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve never had anyone wash your hair before?”

  “Um, my mom,” I answered awkwardly. “When I was a kid.”

  “Well, you’re not a kid anymore.” Her lips quirked up in a sexy grin as her eyes roamed my body. Down, down, down. Sucking in a breath, her gaze held steady on my erection. The way she licked her lips only made me harder. “And it might feel nice.”

  “Okay.”

  If the woman really wanted to wash my hair, then who was I to say no?

  I just didn’t realize it was going to turn me on so much.

  The citrusy scent of the shampoo filled the steamy air as her fingers scraped over my scalp. Despite the heat of the water, goose bumps broke out over my arms and neck.

  My eyes closed. I felt Brynne’s nipples graze against my chest as she worked up a lather, and my erection throbbed against the smooth skin of her stomach.

  Dipping my head lower, I held back a groan when she massaged the base of my skull.

  “See? That’s good, right?” Her breath puffed against my cheek as she spoke.

  I let out an affirmative grunt. It felt so good that I couldn’t even care that my cock was repeatedly poking her belly button. She didn’t seem to mind either.

  After allowing her to direct me under the spray to get thoroughly clean, I wiped the water from my eyes and grabbed the shampoo bottle. With surprise on her features, Brynne eyed the dollop in my palm.

  “It’s your turn,” I told her. Rubbing my hands together, I created some suds before clumsily groping the top of her head. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before.”

  She turned around to give me better access to her long mane and I found a better rhythm as I massaged the soap into her strands.