Fever Page 4

  We could go without speaking for weeks and pick up right where we left off. She was that kind of friend. I envied her beauty, though. Her blonde hair had a wave that I couldn’t achieve, no matter how hard I tried. Her crystal-blue eyes sparkled in the light, and her teeth were so white they almost glowed in the dark.

  “Did I tell you I started seeing someone?” she asked, as she turned the radio down when Justin Bieber started to sing. His high-pitched girl voice made me cringe.

  “No. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  When most people were getting married and starting their families, we were still in school, finishing our degrees before starting our careers. Families and marriage were put on the back burner. Now that we hovered around the big three-zero, we both felt a pang of jealousy and remorse that we may have missed out on so much for our careers.

  “His name is Sal and we work together. We’d been eye fucking for months before things got interesting one night when we both worked late.”

  “Dirty girl, doing it at work.” I shook my head and laughed.

  “Jesus, I can’t even describe what it’s like being with him. The first time I could barely think. We were going over a case. We argued about how to win and he went all cavemen and threw me on the table. It was fuckin’ hot.”

  “Mm, that sounds nice. So are you guys casual or are you officially a couple?” I felt a bit jealous. Hospitals weren’t sexy.

  “We’re not officially dating. We are seeing other people, but then again, who the fuck has the time with our schedule?”

  “So, you picked a Guido. Hmm.”

  “What’s your issue with Italian men?” She looked at me, wrinkling her nose, before returning her eyes to the road.

  “I don’t have a problem with them. They’re typically bossy and believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen.”

  “He’s not like that.” Her blonde hair swayed as she shook her head.

  “Mm-hmm, not yet, maybe.”

  “Bitch, don’t rain on my parade.” She laughed.

  I loved Lori. “Never, doll.”

  “You seeing anyone?” she asked, just like she did every time we spoke.

  My answer was the same: “No.”

  I tried the online dating sites and they ended in disaster. I didn’t want to date someone that lived with their parents or enjoyed sitting at home playing video games.

  My world consisted of doctors and nurses, and I wanted to escape that at the end of the workday, not date someone that would want to talk medicine.

  “Haven’t found the right one.” I stared out the side window, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze.

  “It’s not easy for girls like us.” She threw the money in the toll box and waited for the green light. We were close to Tampa and Ybor City. Ybor is one of the oldest parts of the city, with a unique history. Cigar factories used to line the streets, but were replaced with nightclubs and bars.

  “I don’t want to be anyone’s sugar mama. I worked hard for everything I have. I will not have someone leech off me. I want a man, not a child. You know what I mean?”

  “Agreed.” She nodded. “Text Sarah and let her know we’re close.”

  Lori rambled on about Sal and his amazing cock until we pulled into the parking lot. I smiled and nodded, letting her talk. I applied a little more lipstick as she turned off the car.

  “I’m so happy you could come tonight, Mia.”

  “Me too, Lori. I need a night of dancing with my girls.”

  “Fuck music, let’s get inside and find you some dick.” She giggled.

  “I don’t think my Romeo’s inside. I just want to dance and get shitfaced.”

  “I said dick, not your one true love, silly woman. You need a good fuck to remind you what life’s all about,” she said as we approached the long line filled with beautiful girls in skimpy outfits.

  Lori pulled me forward, bypassing all the waiting people, straight to the bouncer. “Hey, Pete. This is my friend Mia.” Lori kissed his cheek.

  Pete’s face softened with her kiss. His t-shirt looked painted on as it strained against his bulging biceps. His hair was cut in military fashion, flattop and perfect. Pete didn’t look like someone you wanted to mess with.

  He held out his hand to me. “Hi, Mia. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on it.

  There was no sizzle and pop. I wanted the spark, like Michael gave me, and although Pete had that sexy-as-fuck look, his lips did nothing for me.

  “You too, Pete.” I smiled, pulling my hand back.

  “Your friends are inside waiting for you,” Pete said, motioning toward the door.

  “You’re the best,” Lori said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Only for you,” he said, kissing her hair. “When are you going to go out with me, beautiful?”

  “Pete,” she said flatly.

  “I don’t give up easily. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugged and patted her ass. “Go on in before the line gets restless.”

  “Thanks again. Maybe we’ll see you inside,” she said as he opened the door for us.

  The thump of the music made my chest rattle as we stood in the entrance, surveying the bar. People were everywhere, and the dance floor moved with the beat and didn’t have a free spot on it.

  We spotted Sarah and Jamie at the bar nursing their martinis and checking out the men. Jamie’s red hair bounced as she shrieked and clapped when she saw us. She was typically overdramatic, but fun to be around, especially when she had a few too many to drink. She had on a kickass black dress and red heels showing off her long legs. Her thin frame swayed as she grabbed the bar top.

  Sarah wrapped her arms around me. “Been too long, girl,” she said in my ear. Sarah’s blue eyes were glassy.

  “I know. We have to do this more often.” I checked out her outfit. “Damn, you look good, Sarah.”

  She grinned and twirled. “I’ve been working my ass off in the gym. I’m wearing a bikini this year if it kills me.” She snapped her fingers, catching the attention of the bartender, and signaled for two more drinks. “He’s delicious, isn’t he?” Sarah asked, watching him move in the tight space. “I’m taking him home as a treat.” She laughed, as her eyes remained glued to his body.

  “Always on the prowl,” Lori said, before becoming enamored by his body too.

  He placed our drinks on the bar and leaned over to whisper in Sarah’s ear. Her lips turned up in an enormous smile, her eyes growing wide. He was definitely saying something X-rated. He backed away with a grin that could only be described as sinful. “Would you ladies like a shot?” he asked, never taking his eyes off Sarah.

  “Hell yes,” she said, still wearing the dopey smile he’d given her.

  “A toast,” Lori said as she raised her glass. “May your love last thousand years but come in six-inch increments.”

  We clinked our glasses together and laughed before taking a sip.

  “Six seems a bit average, don’t you think?” Jamie said as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

  “Hey, when you’re getting zero, six seems like fucking king dong.”

  “True, true.” Jamie nodded and giggled.

  “Drink those martinis, because the dance floor is calling my name,” I said, grabbing the drink in front of me.

  “I’d rather stand here and gawk at all the yummy hotness in this room,” Lori replied.

  “I know you would, Lori, but dance and gawk. Maybe you’ll get felt up,” I said around the rim of my martini glass.

  “If I could be so lucky.” She laughed as she finished the last of her drink. The others were ahead of us by a few sips and we had some catching up to do. “I’m usually the one doing the molesting, though.” Lori sighed as she placed her glass on the bar.

  Lori wasn’t bashful, and made her intentions known to any man that caught her attention. We never judged her for going after what she wanted. Nine times out of ten, she hit a
homerun, but I’d never been as forward as her.

  “Fuck it,” she said. “We’re taking a taxi tonight, or sleeping at Sarah’s place. I’m not going to be the sober one tonight.”

  When Prince’s “Get Off” started to play, we ran screaming to the dance floor.

  It reminded us of our college days, bringing us right back to where we all met at a frat party. The song was dirty as hell, and perfect. It wasn’t the same song that we heard in the nineties—the DJ had spiced it up, making it techno—but the words were the same.

  The mass of bodies moved to the rhythm, bumping and grinding with the music. I swayed, shaking my ass with the girls as we laughed. The colorful lights moved across the floor. I closed my eyes, getting lost in the beat. The alcohol made my legs feel weak as I continued to dance.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I bumped into Sarah and leaned against her. We danced back to back, holding each other up. As I opened my eyes, I had the feeling that someone was staring at me.

  I looked around and saw him. His eyes were focused on me.

  My breathing stopped and my heart stuttered, as my body froze and I returned his stare.

  I couldn’t look away as he held my gaze. Leaning against the bar, he paid no attention to the man at his side. He raked his eyes up and down my body, and I felt flushed as heat crept up my chest to my neck.

  “Why’d ya stop?” Sarah yelled from behind me.

  All I could do was shake my head. My body felt frozen in place and my eyes were zeroed in on him.

  Mike, the brick wall from the gym, stood there, watching me.

  The dark pants and a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showed off the tattoos on his forearms. He looked calm and collected, but his eyes were fierce and pierced right through me.

  The butterflies in my stomach from earlier came back with a vengeance.

  What were the odds that I’d run into him again? Did he follow me or was it some cosmic force pushing us together?

  “Mia, are you okay?” Sarah asked, as she stepped in front of me, breaking our eye contact.

  My cheeks heated as I exhaled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s dance.” I turned my back to where he stood, and focused on the music, trying to forget he was there.

  Watching me.

  Chapter 4

  “Dude, you okay?” Anthony asked, nudging me in the shoulder.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “Yeah.”

  “Who you looking at?”

  I motioned toward her with my chin before taking a sip of my beer. “Her,” I said.

  “The blonde?”

  “Fuck no, the brunette in the short jeans.” She looked fucking edible.

  “You gonna go talk to her?”

  “Not yet.” The connection was there—a strong enough one that she felt me staring and stopped dead in her tracks. I’d never had an issue with pursuing a woman, but based on her reaction to me at the gym, I’d wait before I approached her.

  “Never took you for a pussy.” Anthony laughed and slapped my shoulder.

  She leaned into her blonde friend and turned.

  Fucking women, I’d never figure them out.

  The blonde looked over her shoulder at me. Her face lit up before she spoke something into her friend’s ear. They danced and laughed, and I became transfixed by the scene before me. Their bodies moved together, hips bumping, tits shaking, and I wanted to go on the dance floor and take her right there.

  I swear to shit, God wanted to punish me, and used my cock to do it.

  Her face shimmered, and her hair flew through the air haphazardly as they danced together. I envisioned her beneath me, on top of me, and against the wall, re-enacting her moves.

  I sipped my beer, the bottle gripped tightly in my hand, as I felt the familiar throb in my dick.

  When the song ended, they stood in the center of the dance floor and laughed. I didn’t move. I called her over with my finger.

  She shook her head, and started dancing when the next song started.

  Fuck.

  I thought I had the market cornered on cockiness, but she could be stiff competition.

  Facing me, she put her hands above her head and shook her ass.

  I caught a glimpse at her stomach muscles, and I wanted to run my tongue over the smooth skin. It met her hips to create a fuckin’ knockout figure.

  A man placed his hands on her hips, and she froze, holding my gaze. The cocky grin on her face disappeared, replaced with a pissed-off sneer. She slapped his hand away, but he didn’t let go.

  What the fuck?

  I didn’t want the sleazy bastard to have his hands all over her. I couldn’t blame the guy, but you don’t touch a woman unless she wants you to.

  Clearly she didn’t.

  She turned to face him, her arms waving in the air as she laid into the guy.

  His eyes grew large but he didn’t back away.

  I moved closer to them and waited for the moment to step in. I couldn’t let her handle this guy alone.

  He reached for her waist, but before he gripped her, her knee rose and met his balls in one quick thrust.

  Ouch.

  I winced, knowing the pain that just shot through his body. I smiled, knowing he deserved it, as he clutched himself, rolling back and forth on the dance floor.

  “Fucker, when I say keep your hands to yourself, I fucking mean it!” she roared.

  Clearing my throat, I drew her attention away from the asshole at her feet. I wanted to touch her, but thought better after what I just witnessed.

  I liked my balls too damn much to let that shit happen.

  She turned slowly, her eyes growing wide as they flickered to the floor. “Hey,” she said as I caught a glimpse of her small smile.

  “That was quite impressive. You took him down pretty hard.”

  “Thank you. I have bony knees,” she said, laughing. She looked too sweet and angelic to have just taken down the overgrown asshole writhing on the tile floor.

  “I don’t think we were properly introduced earlier. I’m Michael, and you are?” I held my hand out, wanting to touch her skin again.

  She placed her tiny fingers in my palm. “I’m Mia.”

  I closed my fingers around her small hand, lifting it to my mouth. “You smell different than this morning.” I kissed the delicate flesh on the top of her hand gently.

  Her scent was sweet and reminded me of fresh-baked cookies. I couldn’t forget her flowery scent from this morning.

  She laughed, and her eyes twinkled. Honest to God, fucking twinkled.

  “Not being a creep. Just making an observation.” I’d never been such a dumbass with a woman before. She made me nervous and turned me into a horny teenaged boy.

  “It’s my lotion. Vanilla Bean Noel.” Her cheeks turned pink as she looked behind her and waved to her friends.

  “You smell like a cupcake.” I licked my lips and now felt like the creep. “Can I buy you a drink, Mia?” I needed to do something to break the awkwardness and my inability to stop saying stupid shit in front of her.

  Her eyes returned to mine, the corner of her mouth turned up before she answered, “Sure, Michael.”

  I held my hand out, letting her walk in front of me. Her hips swayed as she sauntered to the bar. I wanted to smack her ass for the wicked shit it did to my cock.

  Leaning against the bar, shoulder to shoulder with her, I motioned for the bartender. “What’ll it be? Pick your poison.”

  I expected her to say she wanted a girlie drink, something that required an umbrella, but I would’ve been dead fucking wrong.

  “Dirty martini, please. Straight up, with extra olives.”

  The bartender approached, giving Mia the once-over.

  It took everything in me not to punch his fucking lights out as he lingered a little too long on her chest.

  “What can I get you?” he asked her without looking in my direction.

  “Another beer, and a dirty martini straight up with extra ol
ives for the lady,” I said, without caring who he asked.

  I wanted to take the rag he had in his hand and stuff it down his throat. He gave me a sour face before leaving us. I threw a twenty on the bar, trying to avoid as much contact between him and Mia as possible.

  Mia began to laugh as he walked away. “Are you two going to have a pissing match next?”

  Her laughter was infectious.

  “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

  “Used to being the center of attention?” she asked, with a cocked eyebrow and a grin.

  “No. Are you clueless to the way he just eye raped you, woman?”

  Her grin turned into a giant smile. “He’s a man. It’s what you all do.”

  “Glad you think so highly of us.” I leveled my gaze and grabbed the beer that had been left for me.

  “How would you describe how you were looking at me on the dance floor?” she challenged.

  “I wasn’t eye raping you, sweetheart.”

  “Call it what you want. Your eyes told a different story, Michael.”

  “What’d they say?”

  “Something along the lines of, ‘You and me and a little tryst in the bathroom stall.’”

  She was a feisty little thing.

  “You wouldn’t go home with me if I asked?”

  She coughed, almost spitting out her drink. “No, not even after five of these babies,” she said as she held up her glass before taking another sip.

  “I like a challenge. I don’t like to lose, either.”

  She smiled over the rim of her glass. “I’ve never been called a quitter.”

  I never liked easy.

  My life had been filled with hard choices and challenges that kept me moving to bigger and better things.

  Everything came easy to my family. We grew up with money, not the kind that Paris Hilton had that caused her to turn into a fucking train wreck, but my parents made sure we never wanted for anything.

  “What do you do, Mia? What makes you tick, besides kneeing a man in the balls?”

  She placed her glass on the bar and twirled it in her fingers. “I’m in medicine.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth. Her lips were full and red from the lip-gloss, or whatever shit she had coating them. I wanted to know if it tasted like strawberry.