Lauren Blakely - After This Night

“Indeed. One Purple Snow Globe coming right up.”

She mixed the drink and deposited it in front of him. When she returned five minutes later to check in, his eyes were sparkling and he was licking his lips. “That is a divine creation,” he told her, then extended a hand. “I’m Glen Mills. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me soon.”

“Why will I be hearing from you soon, Glen? You gonna offer me a job at some swank new bar you’re opening?” she asked playfully.

“Not exactly,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, then he pushed off from the stool, and walked away.

She shook her head in amusement. The things men said in bars never surprised her, nor did she ever put any faith in them. Something about his name felt familiar though. Glen Mills. The named nagged at her brain for a spell, and she turned it over several times, like a strange object she could decipher if she looked at it from another angle, but she couldn’t recall where she’d heard it before, so she let it go.

She could picture him perfectly when he told her he was crashed out on his couch, his shoulders sore in the way he liked from a hard workout tonight. She imagined him freshly showered, in shorts and a T-shirt, a combo she rarely saw her sharp-dressed man in, but a fantastic look nonetheless.

“Tell me why you like boxing,” Julie said, as she closed the door to the tiny office at Cubic Z, slipping away for a short break while Kim handled the bar during a quiet time. She was spending her rare free minutes her favorite way. Talking to Clay. It wasn’t the same as being in the room with him, but he was a far better phone date than any in-person date she’d ever had with another man. Though, he didn’t call these stolen chats dates. He didn’t call them anything. Maybe because the two of them were so undefined right now. They took what they could get from each other, but didn’t push too far.

“Because I have to use my mind and my body,” he said.

“Mmm. Two of the things I like about you.” She sank down into the office chair, leaning back against it, letting his voice warm her. “And how do you use your mind when you’re hitting a bag?”

“You have to focus with boxing. You have to know exactly where to land a punch, and then deliver on it.”

“How did you get into boxing in the first place?”

“In high school.”

“I thought you played football in high school?”

“I did. But I had no choice about boxing. Brent did it.”

“And that meant you had to?”

“Can’t let my little brother beat me. I had to keep up with him. Wouldn’t let him have the chance to win. So I took it up too.”

“I can beat McKenna if I have to,” Julia joked.

“Girl fight. Don’t get me excited,” he said playfully.

“But I like getting you excited.”

“And you’re very good at it. You excel at that,” he said, then paused and she heard the slightest rustling sound.

“You stretching out on the couch?”

“I’m making myself more comfortable.”

“Do your shoulders still hurt?”

“A little.”

She sighed wistfully, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagined being there with him, soothing out the soreness from the punches he’d thrown. “If I were there I’d rub your shoulders for you. You could lean back into me and I’d make you feel better.”

“Mmm…I bet you would.”

“You can rest your head between my legs while I massage you.”

He laughed. “If I’m between your legs, there’s no massaging going on. Unless it’s of you and with my tongue.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Always able to make things dirty, aren’t you, Clay?”

“If you’re going to start talking about being between your legs, I’m going to start telling you what I’d be doing if I were there, and it wouldn’t be lying still.”

“What would it be?” She asked, unable to resist drawing out his naughty mouth.

“Wait. I would be lying still, now that I think about it,” he said, quickly correcting himself.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. Because I’m tired, but I’m never to tired to eat you. I’d just need you to ride my face,” he said. Hot tingles roared down her body at the memory of the ways he’d buried his face between her legs. On the chaise lounge in her bar after closing time the night they met, in the town car when she’d arrived in New York for their weekend together, and tied up on his bed, her ass in the air. Heat flooded her center, and she was going to need to change her panties before she went back out to work if this kept up.

“But maybe I want to do things to you,” she said, taking the reins, so she didn’t turn into a puddle of molten heat.

“All right. Have at me. What do you want to do to me?”

Her ears tuned into the noises from beyond the door. It sounded like more customers had just come in. She’d need to get back out there soon.

“Besides rub your shoulders and run my fingers through your hair?”

“Yes. Besides that.”

“My favorite thing,” she said in a sexy whisper, closing her eyes and picturing exactly what she wanted to do to him.

“What’s your favorite thing, Julia? Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“Tasting you.”

He groaned, and she was sure his hand was already on his cock.

“Taking you in my mouth. Doing all sorts of things to you with my lips and tongue.”

“What sort of things?”

“Taking you deep the way you like. Licking you all over. Using my hands everywhere on you.”

“Everywhere?” he asked, and she could practically see him arching an eyebrow.

“Everywhere you’d want me to,” she said, and soon his breathing intensified. “Are you touching yourself?”

“You leave me no choice when you talk about sucking me. I love those sexy lips of yours wrapped around my dick.”

“And you love using your hands on me too while you’re in my mouth. Grabbing my hair, pushing your fingers through it, pulling me closer to you.”

“Making sure you take me hard,” he growled.

“Of course. I want to make sure I rock your world with my mouth.”

He drew a sharp breath, and she could tell he was getting close. “You do, Julia. You do.”

“I can almost taste you right now,” she said in a hot whisper, wanting to bring him there.

“You should be able to any second now,” he said, breathing out hard, and groaning loudly.

She grinned widely, thrilled that she’d gotten him off like this. “You taste so fucking good,” she said.

He sighed deeply, the sound of a contented man. She loved that she’d found a way to satisfy him even from this kind of distance. “Your turn,” he said in that deep, sexy voice that sent sparks through her.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I need to get back to work. It’s getting busy.”

“Next time then. Because I want to hear you let go,” he said, and a hot wave rolled through her as she pictured their nights on the phone, and how he drew out her cries of pleasure. “I love how you let go when you touch yourself.”

“Why would I do anything else?”

“I want you to let go with me.”

“I do, Clay. I’ve never held back.”

“I don’t mean sex. I mean other ways. I want you to be as free with me in other ways as you are when you’re naked.”

“I want that too. I swear I do,” she said, and she was sure her neediness was coming through loud and clear. But she needed him to know. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

“So much. I wish you were here with me.”

He sighed heavily. “I wish I could be,” he said, but it didn’t sound as if he were wishing he could be there right now so he could touch her. More like he was wishing he would allow himself to be close to her again. Because in spite of all their late-night chats, and all the things they shared, there was a distance between them more palpable than the miles. She’d been getting to know him better, and yet, she had never felt farther away from him than she did now. “I have to go,” he said, and now it was possible to feel even more distant.

When their call ended, she knew it couldn’t go on much longer like this; this in-between state was wonderful and thoroughly unsatisfying at the same time.

Before the wedding she played another poker game. She was on some kind of streak the last few weeks, and she won most nights. “I only have $10,000 left,” she said to Charlie at the end of the cash out. She couldn’t hide the smile that curved her lips.

“You can count. But I also gave you a deadline and you have two more weeks to clear it.”

“May isn’t over yet,” she said through gritted teeth.

“You could always ask your sister. I did a little research on her business. Seems she sold it for a pretty penny. Or perhaps you could just transfer your debt to the peppy Fashion Hound,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he crisply punctuated the name of McKenna’s fashion blog, making it clear he knew everything about the people she cared about. “I could find all sorts of ways for her to work for me. She has a nice dog, too.”

Julia snapped, lunging for Charlie’s throat in the restaurant. “Leave my sister and her dog out of this.”

He cackled, grabbing her hands and flicking them off his skin. “I won’t have to involve anyone if you do your job, Red.”

She was tempted to ask McKenna for a loan, but she’d gotten this far on her own. She’d managed to keep her sister and Kim and everyone she loved out of Charlie’s crosshairs. You don’t run the first twenty-five miles of a marathon to send reinforcements in to finish the last mile. Even if that last mile feels like five hundred.