**CAITLIN**
A tattooed hand wrapped around my neck, a hard body moving over me until I forgot my own name. That's what I was thinking about when I noticed him staring at me from across the bar.
Fuck, he was hot.
I felt eyes on me first, that prickling feeling on the back of my neck. I looked around, and there he was. His face had sharp cheekbones and soft, full lips, with warm brown eyes that held mine like they didn't want to let go. The sexiest man I'd ever seen, and it made me shift in my seat.
I'd just ended things with my regular fuck buddy, Blake. He was a human blank canvas, no tattoos, and his idea of kinky was saying "You like that?" during sex. He was hot, in a frat boy way, but cute wasn't cutting it anymore. He also had a big dick with the inability to use it correctly, but bless him, he tried. Compatibility wasn't something that could be forced no matter how badly you wanted the person.
It just didn't work.
Which is why I came to the bar, to drink and forget. But now I was locked in a stare-down with a goddamn work of art across the crowded room. The bar was packed, bodies pressed together, laughter and music filling every corner, but all I could focus on was him. His eyes were glued to me, and I pursed my lips. Just come over here.
I gave him a slight nod before I could chicken out.
I turned back to my drink, my heart thumping hard against my ribs. What if he laughed? What if he wasn't even looking at me?
Honestly, if it were anyone else staring at me like that from across the room, I would have told them to stop being creepy. But he was hot, and I was a biased bitch who wasn't ashamed to admit it.
I took a small sip of my whiskey and took a deep breath. My elbows rested on the counter as I swirled the brown liquid around in the glass. I sucked on a cube of ice, letting it cool my mouth. I wasn't a lightweight, on the contrary actually, if I had a full stomach.
I felt him before I heard him.
"Never had a woman call me over before." His voice was deep and smooth, with an accent that made him ten times hotter.
He sat on the stool next to me, so close I could smell his cologne. When I tell you that he was covered in ink, I mean inked from the back of his hands all the way up his neck, disappearing under his white shirt.
Even better up close.
"You were staring at me. Too scared to make a move or what?" I took another sip, waiting for his answer.
"Scared?" He chuckled, showing off his perfect smile. "I was making sure you weren't waiting for a man since you are all alone." He took a sip of clear liquid. Vodka, probably.
Feeling a little bit of courage, I turned in my stool and let my bare knees touch the side of his thigh. "Oh, yeah? You care about stuff like that?"
He wasn't bulky or overly muscular, but the fluid way he moved hinted at strength rooted in agility.
He looked down at where we touched, and his hand visibly tightened around his glass. "No, I don't. But you probably do."
"Bold of you to assume anything about me from ten feet away," I said playfully, leaning one elbow on the counter. His gaze dipped to my cleavage, then back up with a small smirk.
"Ah," he nodded. "It's rare to see a beautiful woman sitting alone."
If I had it my way, I would strip naked on that very bar and have him fuck me into oblivion. My core tightened at the vivid image.
"Do you have someone in your life that will be upset that you're sitting here and complimenting me?" I asked. I had to make sure. The last time, a random girl tried to fight me because her man flirted with me.
I would never understand why she attacked me and not the person who was supposed to be loyal to her.
He smirked and asked playfully, "Why? You can't fight?"
I looked at him, amused. "Over a man? I'd rather eat glass."
"I respect that." He nodded and pursed his lips. "To answer your question, no, there's not."
"Glad we're on the same page now," I said, feeling a little more comfortable.
"What's your name, angel?" he asked, setting his glass down and turning to face me fully, his eyes warm and curious. His legs were long. I could tell how toned his legs were through his pants, and I crossed one leg over the other, trying to mask how much it stirred me.
"Definitely not angel. Caitlin." I took a sip of my drink, enjoying the slight burn it offered.
"Caitlin." He tested it on his tongue and unashamedly checked me out from my head to my feet clad in strappy heels. "Such an innocent name."
I laughed. "Aw, I'm anything but. Are you going to tell me your name?"
He leaned forward, brushing my long dark hair from my shoulder to behind me. I didn't know him from a bar of soap, but the lust in his eyes was evident. He licked his bottom lip. The action was almost enough to have me drop to my knees.
"If I do, you have to promise to be mine for the night," he said so softly that I wasn't sure I heard him correctly.
I traced my fingers up his thigh. I wasn't new to the whole one-night stand situation. I'd had my fair share of it in the past, and I desperately needed a release.
I smirked. "I was yours the minute I laid my eyes on you. Name."
His lips tilted up in a small smile, and he bit his lower lip, humor dancing around in his brown eyes. "Dominic."
I picked up my clutch and placed a few notes underneath the empty glass. I stood up, raising to the same height as him even though he was still sitting. I could feel his attention on me as I walked behind him and leaned forward until my lips were inches away from his ear.
"My place or yours, Dom?" I asked softly. He stared at me for a few more seconds and picked up his drink to take one last gulp.
Without warning, he stood up and grabbed my waist, placing a hard kiss on my lips. His mouth was cold and tasted of minty vodka, an odd combination, but I found myself moaning into his mouth.
The kiss alone was enough to have my coochie quivering.
"Yours," Dominic responded against my lips. I nodded, still in a daze. He grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the bar.
I let myself smile. I missed it. I missed the excitement of fucking someone new, and I was so damn ready.