I’d never been under any illusions about Puck. The night I’d met him, he’d fucked me harder than most women experience in their entire lives . . . but I knew I wasn’t anything special in his world. Hell, he’d brought women to breakfast at the diner regularly whenever he was in town. Guess that made him a gentleman, because at least he fed them after a night spent hot and heavy under the sheets.
Still, knowing he was fucking around and seeing it in living color right in front of you are two very different things.
This was where I should’ve backed away. Scuttled off like a good girl, gone back into my apartment and gone to bed. Definitely the smart thing to do.
But when her mouth wrapped around him tight and he dug his fingers deep into her hair?
I couldn’t have dragged my eyes away if my life depended on it. So I watched as her cheeks hollowed and sucked him in. So wrong on so many levels, and utterly compelling. Need and desire grew between my legs as her fingers dug into his ass. I still remembered exactly how it felt when he’d come deep into my own throat all those years ago.
It was wrong.
And when his entire body tensed before he pulled free and sprayed all over her face?
That’s when I realized my fascination with Puck was deeply fucked up. I needed to meet some other man. Any other man. Maybe before I took a job down at the Bitter Moose, I should go check it out for myself. See who might be there. Somewhere in the world there had to be a guy as sexy as Puck who wasn’t a biker. I just needed to find him.
There had to be a sweet spot between lonely cat lady and full-on biker whore like my mom. Not that I had a cat—yet. But one of Regina’s was pregnant and she’d been talking about giving me a kitten.
When I got it, I’d already know how to make it sundresses . . .
No. No more cat dresses. I’d just have to suck it up and start screwing random guys until I found one that worked right.
Standing unsteadily, I backed away from the window, tripping as I knocked over the empty wine bottle with an unholy rattle of metal flashing. It startled Blake, and he sat up abruptly, rolling Danielle off to the side with a thud. She squawked in outrage. This would’ve been of far more concern to me if I wasn’t suddenly teetering toward the end of the fake roof facade, hoping rather desperately that the two-foot-high barrier would be enough to keep me from going over the edge.
“Fuck,” Blake muttered, diving for me. He caught the side of my shirt and yanked me back. Hard. The fabric tore wide open and we fell back down on the roof together with a thud.
When I caught my breath, I discovered that I was straddling Blake with both legs spread wide. His arms held my half-naked upper body against him—tight—and the tops of my breasts pressed firmly into his face.
“Are you all right?” Danielle asked, her voice short and breathy. I blinked, trying to figure that out for myself. Then Blake made a snorting noise and wiggled his head.
“Shit,” I muttered, pulling back. I’d been smothering the poor man. “Blake, I’m so sorry! Thank you for saving me, though.”
Blake took a deep breath and coughed, then gave a slow grin.
“If you really want to thank me, shove those tits back down into my face.”
“Don’t make me use my gun,” Danielle muttered, her voice dark. I blushed fiercely, realizing that regardless of whether it was because he’d been making out with Danielle or because I was currently grinding my crotch deep into his, the man was hard as a rock.
Then Blake was rolling me to the side and I was lying on my back, wondering what the hell just happened. Shit. There was no way Puck could’ve missed all that noise outside the window.
Wasn’t that just perfect.
I considered checking his window to see if he was watching. Did I really want to know? Uh-uh. Retreat was the better part of valor under the circumstances. Not only that, despite my crash into the roof, my bits were still a little tingly from watching Carlie suck him off, which was creepy and weird. Then I remembered my idea.
“Let’s go to the Bitter Moose,” I said, sitting up. “Get dressed up, go dancing or something. If I’m going to start working there, I should see what it’s like at night. Maybe find a cute guy while we’re at it.”
“You’ve never been to the Moose at night?” Danielle asked, obviously surprised. “But you’re always going on about how much you hate bars. How do you know you hate it if you’ve never been there?”
“I’ve heard stories. It’s not my kind of place, but you know what? Maybe I need to get out more.”
“I see what’s happening here,” Blake said, his voice sly. “You got a taste of Blake, and now you’re ready to get back in the saddle, aren’t you?”
“Jesus, do you never stop trying?” Danielle asked him.
“Hey, it’s not my fault she threw herself at me,” he said. “But seriously, if you want to go out, let’s call my friend, Joe Collins. He can drive us, and he’s been asking me forever to set something up with you, Becca.”
Across the roof I caught the flare of a light. Crap. Puck had pushed open the drapes, and now I could see him all too clearly as he walked away from the window. Had he seen me spying on him? God, I hoped not. More important, what was he doing over there in the first place?
That apartment was supposed to be empty.
“We going out or not?” Danielle demanded.
“Yeah, let’s go out.”
“I’ll call Joe,” Blake said. “He’s into you, Becca.”
I shrugged, trying to picture Joe. I was pretty sure I remembered him—he’d come into the diner a few times.