Just A Fling: A Driven By Fire Novel 0.5 Page 2

  I take another step forward, sidestepping someone who grumbles at me for cutting in and wedging myself unapologetically against the bar. I reach up on my toes trying to get the bartender’s attention. As my arm comes up t rest on the sticky surface, it brushes against another person. Against an abdomen to be sure. The solid surface I feel could be nothing else unless a warm, fabric-covered wall was somehow erected beside me in the last three seconds.

  I look over my shoulder to prove myself correct if nothing else. The hairs on my neck stand on end. It’s him. The tall guy from the landing found me even with my stealth tactics. He stares down at me with scorn in his eyes, berating me for trying to outrun him. I turn my head back to neutral before smiling and praise his long legs and his ability to move through a sea of people with such ease.

  It’s not normal for strangers to press up against each other while waiting for libations but he does. The smell of his cologne wafts down from his height and drapes over my shoulders. Spicy. The good kind of spicy; not the acrid I-just-came-from-an-all-you-can-eat-buffet scent. It lingers in my nostrils and I now enjoy my time in line while breathing him in.

  His hands find their way to my hips just as space opens up in front of me. Fingers apply firm pressure leading me forward like I can’t do it on my own. Although, I’m beginning to wonder that myself as my legs tingle from his touch. I shiver even as sweat dampens the back of my neck again and I know I’m done for. The silent communication has me licking my lips and holding my breath in anticipation of his next move. Where will he take me from here?

  My friend traces his hand along my lower back as he steps to my side where we can finally get a good look at each other. My eyes start at the hand that lingers on my waist then travel up his forearm to his bicep that sits snuggly in the sleeve of his white tee. His neck leads into a strong, square jaw, and – Oh, hello! my nether regions call out to the man that has me gasping for air at the feeling of being swallowed up by the ocean for a second time. My companion smiles, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. He runs his hand through his shortish, dark brown hair, pulling it away from his similarly-coloured eyes. Eyes that sparkle with the flashing lights in the bar.

  He says something to me but it’s too many words strung together for me to lip read. I shake my head and raise my palms to the ceiling indicating that I didn’t catch what he said. He places a hand on my right shoulder then leans in across my body to speak into my left ear. His fingers gently stroke my hair, tucking it behind my ear and I shiver again under his touch.

  I like my body’s reaction to him.

  He presses softly against the tragus of my ear closing it off to sound and leans in so close I feel his breath on my ear and neck as he speaks in a low voice. “Vodka tonic with a lime?” I am surprised at how he uses a normal volume to speak. Instead of being screamed at, I am graced with the deep, warm tones of his voice. I’m also surprised that he knows what I’ve been drinking. He apparently found me long before I found him.

  Even in my high heels, I have to reach up on my toes to get close to his ear. I put my hand on his waist and mimic his noise-canceling trick of closing off his ear, saying that I am just here for water. I am mindful not to speak too quietly, although I wouldn’t mind having to keep my hand on him to repeat myself. His torso is firm and feels solid beneath my fingers. My dirty mind is already wondering what he looks like shirtless.

  When the bartender comes around, my new friend gets us two overpriced bottles of water and leads me by the hand to a “less crowded” spot. His fingers are calloused telling me he doesn’t sit behind a desk all day. That, combined with his toned body, makes me assume he’s in manual labour of some kind and not a gym junkie. I like something about that. Something about the sustained physical ability to work hard for an entire day rather than being limited to pounding it out for an hour. I can picture him out in the fields working, wiping his brow and bare chest on the shirt he has tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. Although it would make more sense for him to be a rigger, they don’t work shirtless so it doesn’t go with the fantasy I’ve already conjured up.

  It is somewhat quieter in the corner that he brought me to, although we are still forced to stand close in order to hear one another. I pretend I still can’t hear him well so he will have to keep touching me and so I can feel him out a little more. I wish he needed to take his shirt off to hear me better.

  He has an intense vibe about him. It’s got something to do with his swagger. Or maybe it’s the way he touches me with such confidence and ease. The intensity in his demeanour is juxtaposed by the laid-back way he dresses. Unlike most of the people here tonight who are dressed like they stepped off the pages of a department store catalogue and are still posing for the camera, he’s wearing faded boot-cut blue jeans frayed at the hem and a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. His tight, plain white t-shirt is tucked into his jeans that show off a large belt buckle. A part of me wants to lean in and see the design on it, but even I know that putting my face that close to his dick this early on would be a little much.

  “I’m Kirk.”

  “Danielle,” I reply back, standing on the points of my toes again. He clues into my struggle to reach his ears and bends down slightly, okay a lot, to make it easier for me.

  “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you new to town?” Fort McMurray is the hub of the oil and gas industry in Alberta. There are a lot of people who move in and out of town with work and a lot of people from remote sites who use it as a stomping ground on days off. Even with all the transience, people have their regular haunts and find others who have similar semi-regular schedules to hang out with.

  “That sounds like a cheesy pick-up line,” I reply, unscrewing the cap to my water and taking a sip. I keep my eyes on him while sucking the liquid back noting that his eyes track to my throat. He’s watching me swallow and the water suddenly feels burning hot rather than refreshingly cool. When I lower the drink from my lips, his eyes find mine again and he brushes off being busted watching me with a cool smile. That cool smile, however, shows off his sweet dimple again giving away an innocence he keeps hidden.

  “I don’t do pick-up lines.” My guess is that Kirk has women approaching him to say thanks for sharing the air you breathe. There’s something about a cowboy in the city that makes women go wild. Their public personas highlight a clean-shaven, well-mannered and hard-working attitude. However, it’s the private qualities that I like: firm, in charge and incredible stamina. Kirk is giving me a little of both; not that I’m judging a book by its cover. That would require the shirt to come off.

  Those mama-raised-you-right traits are hard to find in men up north. With the gender scale tipped far in favour of men, and young men at that, I am more likely to be surrounded by guys being guys than gentlemen. Who knows how long Kirk has been up here? If he’s been out of his mama’s reach for long enough, he might have lost some of that farm-boy charm.

  “Does that mean you’re not trying to pick me up?” I ask with a teasing tone.

  Kirk runs his fingers through his hair then takes a sip of water before he answers giving me a chance to return the favour of watching him swallow. “You’re small enough to fit in my back pocket. I wouldn’t have to try too hard.”

  The deep timbre of his voice fuelled by a healthy dose of testosterone is the perfect pitch to make my body vibrate. I bet this tall drink of water fresh from the creek could say all sorts of things that would make many of my body parts quiver. But I’m not here to talk. I am here to dance and then get laid so I have something to remember when I go back to my boring motel front desk job.

  “You look like you’re trying to figure out your escape route,” he says like he’s one step ahead of me. Kirk leans in close once more, maybe so he can get a hand on me if I try to run.

  I laugh and place my hand on his well-developed bicep telling him he doesn’t need to worry. I look up into his dark eyes wondering what it is about him that makes me want to change my habits. Guys using lines alw
ays get a hard pass from me. There’s something about Kirk that isn’t typical, though. Something that makes me want to break a few of my rules, like letting the pick-up line slide and wanting to talk a little more.

  I quirk my head to the side. “I’ll stick around for the time being.”

  “Well if that’s the case, then you didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question was that?”

  “If you come here often.”

  “Right,” I agree, sweeping my hair behind my ear. “Our taxi driver told us to come here because his cousin is the DJ.”

  Kirk laughs and the sound is deep causing reverberations through my body that layer over the heavy bass pumping out of the speakers. “That sounds dodgy as hell. Does he get a commission?”

  I laugh hard. “That’s what we said!”

  Kirk’s eyebrows rise. “We?”

  “My girlfriends. But you know who I’m here with. You’ve been watching me.”

  He doesn’t flinch at being called out. In fact, it only seems to embolden him. “Well, Danielle, who travels in a group and is open to recommendations from strangers,” he pauses, leaving me hanging on the end of his statement. “I have another suggestion for you.”

  “Okay,” I grin, hoping he’s going to offer to take off his shirt. Now or in private is fine with me.

  “Let me buy you a drink of another kind and then we can go get sweaty on the dance floor.”

  While not exactly what I was hoping for, it’s a theme I can work with.

  Chapter Three

  I’m more of a two-step, line dance kind of guy but I think I fake it good enough with Danielle. She doesn’t seem to be too much into showing off on the dance floor anyway. For her, tonight is just about having a good time. I caught that vibe while I watched her from the sidelines and now I am experiencing it up close. Besides, I’d put money on her telling me to fuck off if she got bored or embarrassed having me around.

  There’s no bullshit, no pretence with her. In a city where even the worst kind of woman can find a man to go home with, so many good girls still play themselves up to look like or be like someone they aren’t. Not Danielle. What you see is what you get. Right down to calling me out on unintentionally using a dumb-ass pick-up line when all I wanted to know was why no one had never seen her around before.

  The guys I’m here with tonight seem to know everyone. They’ve pointed out who’s cool to hang out with, who’s game to be hit on and who to avoid unless I want to start a course of antibiotics. When I pointed out Danielle on the dance floor, no one knew a thing about her or the girls she travelled with. Everyone said they would remember the exotic-looking woman with the jet black, iron straight hair and perfect olive complexion. I kept my eye on her all night trying to fill in the blanks that no one else could. I paid attention to what she drank and how much (vodka or gin with either soda or tonic and she only ever had one drink in her hand at a time). I watched who she danced with, paying particular attention to her body language (flirtatious in a subtle way that showed fun was her priority but she was open to other things). She mostly danced with her girlfriends but would move around the floor with a guy if he kept his hands off her.

  “Are you going to go get her before someone else does?” My buddy Vick asked with an elbow to my ribs. I wasn’t worried about anyone else getting close to her. She was looking but she had standards. Standards that not many guys here measured up to. I knew the right time would come for me to make myself known. That moment came when she looked our way as she made her way off the dance floor. I lifted my chin to meet her eyes just before she dipped back into the swirling mass of people. I know she saw me from the way her lips parted and her tongue reached out and dragged over her top lip.

  I’m used to leading a woman through a dance and Danielle is used to moving to her own beat. It takes us a minute to figure out how to blend our two genres. She swivels her hips and swings her arms and when I see an opening, I spin her around in a tight circle or move her body around mine. It wouldn’t fly in any bar I’d go to back home, and it won’t work later tonight when I have her alone, but it works for us here.

  Her girlfriends come over and circle around me making no pretence of appraising me, corralling me in like I’m a runaway calf. Danielle doesn’t try to help me out; in fact, she cheers them on, clapping and laughing as they surround me, scrutinizing. One of them slaps my ass and gives Danielle a thumbs up before dancing away in a fit of giggles.

  “You know,” I pull her in tight to my body placing both hands on her back so she’s forced to wrap her hands around my torso. “If one of my buddies came up and slapped you on the ass to show he approved, you’d probably have given both of us black eyes by now.” My buddy would actually have two, one from me also because no one else will be touching Danielle tonight.

  With a coy look and complete dismissal of the issue behind my comment she says, “What about me needs approval?”

  Oh, that sass. I bet that mouth has landed her in a lot of trouble along the way. “That wasn’t my point.” She knows exactly what I mean about the double standard she is perpetuating and she doesn’t care. She’s a woman living in a man’s world and she’s grown a thick skin.

  “I get the feeling that if one of your friends slapped my ass, I wouldn’t be the one swinging punches.” I don’t even know her last name yet and we are in tune with each other already. “Just so you know, I’m not looking for approval from anyone.” She pulls away slightly so she can direct a pointed look my way.

  “I got that impression. And don’t worry, I’m not here to boost your ego.” Danielle wraps her hands around me again pulling me back in and letting me know the only thing she’s interested in getting from me tonight is my body. I press my groin into her belly telling her I’m fine with her demand.

  Her hands slide down to my ass and she squeezes. “Glad to know we’re both on the same page.” We move to the rest of the song connected this way. When the DJ mixes into the next beat, Danielle tells me it’s getting late and she pulls away from me slightly.

  “Yeah, I should go.” I yank her back against me. We continue our version of a dance, which is now more like swaying in slow circles. “Need a ride?”

  “Sure do, cowboy. I don’t know where you live.”

  So bold. Let’s see where that feisty charm goes when I get her alone. I pull her off the dance floor towards the door not wanting to wait any longer to find out.

  “Wait!” She calls from an arm’s length behind me. I stop and turn toward her. She has her phone out and is typing. I know she hasn’t changed her mind because she’s way too determined a person to get a case of cold feet now. “Gotta let the girls know I’m leaving with you.” Smart, although she doesn’t have too many details to give them. Good thing I’m a good guy.

  Just then, Danielle shoulders up to me and snaps a photo. The flash is blinding and I had no idea the picture was even coming so I couldn’t even prepare myself. Worse than eyes that are surely half shut making me look cut when I’m still pretty sober is that, because of our height difference, it’s probably a shot straight up my nose.

  "Let me see that!" I roar, reaching for her phone as she rolls away from me and tucks it under her arm so only she can see the screen. Her laugh tells me it's not a complimentary pic. "What was that for?"

  “Security protocol. I just have to send that to Piper along with your phone number then I’m good to go home with you.”

  “Who are you and why do you have a security protocol?”

  Danielle laughs and the genuine sound diminishes my cause for concern. “I’m no one but I do have an overprotective friend who will not come out with me but still makes me follow her rules.”

  * * *

  I don’t live far from the club yet somehow the taxi ride feels like we are heading to another country. My cock has settled since our time on the dance floor although the desire hasn’t faded. I reach over and place my hand on her thigh. She covers it gently with hers and looks over at me, unb
linking. Her face is completely neutral, mouth closed, breathing steady.

  “These things all have webcams,” she says very seriously, moving my hand off her without even looking at me. I fold my hands in my lap respecting her wishes while wondering how she came up with her wild sense of limits. Danielle seems to have a hard set of rules she follows for someone who is open-minded enough to come home with a stranger.

  “No one cares what’s going on in Fort McMurray taxis.” It’s not like anyone famous or wealthy comes up here and rides in a cab. The people worth watching in compromising situations all have their own fleet of private vehicles.

  “You’d be surprised what I’ve seen on the web.” Her eyebrows rise just slightly. It’s the only deviation from the neutral expression she maintains even though I know there’s a movie reel of some obviously nefarious events playing in her head. “I will not be a scandal for someone else to watch online.”

  “I’m sure there’s a good story or two in there, like why you’re watching those videos in the first place, but we’re here.” I point out the window just as the driver pulls up to the curb “We’ll have to save your weird-but-true stories for another time.” Another time when I don’t have different plans for what she can do with her imagination.

  I pull on the latch to the door and tell her, “Wait here, please.” She looks at me with questioning eyes and I hold up my index finger in a gesture of patience, reassuring her that I’m not about to ditch her or run inside to clean my house before she comes in.

  I walk around to her side of the car and open her door. Danielle's skeptical look turns to one of warm surprise when I reach out my hand to take hers. We walk up the pathway to the house and climb the three steps to the door my hand on the small of her back, leading her to a night of carnal bliss. I can't wait any longer to have my lips on hers, not even long enough to open the door and get inside. My hands go to her hips and I spin her around to face me, pulling her tight to my body. She comes up against me with a small oomph and a sly smile on her lips. My mouth hovers millimetres from hers, my stiffening cock rubs her belly.