Corked and Tapped, Volume One by Becca Jameson

Author:Becca Jameson [Jameson, Becca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Becca Jameson Publishing

Chapter 3

Brooklyn grabbed her envelope, adjusted her small purse where it hung across her body, and followed him. His hand slid down her arm to clasp hers, and she kept herself tight against his back as he maneuvered through the crowd.

After facing the bar for so long, she realized she’d blocked out the rest of the world. The small dance floor was jammed with patrons as they shimmied against one another under the string of lights overhead. The music was current pop, louder now that she’d stepped away from the bar.

They entered the hallway where the restrooms were and then Owen opened a door across from the men’s room and pulled her inside. As soon as he shut off the noise, she blew out a breath. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

“Of course.”

She glanced around. They were in a supply room filled with boxes of booze that extended from floor to ceiling on both walls. More of a closet. There was hardly enough space to move. The lighting came from a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.

“Sorry about that asshole. That was the last thing you needed tonight.” Owen set a hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder and slid it up to caress the side of her neck.

She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never stood next to him. Never been this close. Never felt his gentle touch.

And he was gentle. Both his tone and his touch. Soothing. Caressing. In complete contrast with his rugged looks. Owen was rough around the edges with his tattoos and muscular build and a few scars. She lifted her hand to trace one of the scars on his arm before she could stop herself. “What happened?” she whispered.

“Knife fight.”

She gasped, lifting her gaze.

He smiled. “Not like you’re thinking. I was in the army. It happened overseas.”

“Oh. I never realized that.” She winced. “I guess I usually do all the talking when I’m here. You know everything about me. I know very little about you.”

He smiled again. “It’s part of my job.”

“Psychiatrist?”

He chuckled. “Yep. Whatever the customer needs.”

She set her hands on his chest, feeling the warmth and hardness and strength. She’d never so boldly touched him before, but he’d made the first move by holding her neck. Her confidence grew. Surely he wouldn’t turn her down if she asked for a night of sex. “What if the customer would like you to kiss her?” she asked, her voice wobbling.

His grin grew wider and he stepped forward, pressed her against the door, and lowered his face toward hers. Instead of claiming her mouth, he spoke. “I’d say that I’ve waited a damn long time to hear you say that.”

Her breath hitched. Really? “You never… I mean, I didn’t know…”

He shrugged. “You weren’t ready. And, you were married. I don’t care that you’ve been in the process of a divorce for-fucking-ever, I don’t touch married women.”

“But you do kiss women who come into your bar if they ask you to,” she stated, wondering how many women he’d lured into this closet.

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