Saturday Snippet featuring Lola Clarke

Fuck, he’s smokin’ hot.

My thighs clench involuntarily at the thought of what his mouth would feel like against me, and my eyes travel down his face taking in the dark scruff on his sharp jawline then I look over the rest of him. I sigh at the sheer perfection that is his body, with thick muscles that radiate raw and primal strength, nothing I’ve never encountered in a man before.

Mr. Hottie stands and walks over to me, his woodsy cologne invades my senses as he comes closer and I almost lean into him and inhale audibly but I fight the urge to make a complete fool of myself. At least for now. I turn toward him, casually brushing my knee against his denim-covered thigh, and awareness prickles my skin at the not-so-innocent touch.

I extend a hand to him. “Hi, I’m Jessica.”

He gently grabs my hand with a steady grip, caressing my fingers for a moment before placing a sweet kiss on the back of my hand. I sigh at the gesture before I quickly remind myself that this isn’t the time or place to swooning over a stranger. I’m here to find a random guy and get my brains fucked out. That’s it. Focus.

“Do you have a name….?” I pull my hand back and brush my fingertips across my collarbone, down my necklace. It’s my signature move to draw his eyes to my tits. Because, if I say so myself, they are pretty damn hot. 

He glances down for a split second then looks back up at me. I lift a perfectly arched brow at him. 

“Name?” I ask again.

He clears his throat and shoots me a grin. “Allen,” he says. His voice is deep and seductive, the sound sends a warmth straight up my thighs, directly to my clit. I shift a bit on my seat.

I stare at him, shaking my head. “You don’t look like an Allen. That can’t be your name. It’s gotta be something else. Something sexier.” 

He takes the seat next to me, leaning back against the bar, arms folded across his wide chest causing his t-shirt to tighten around his large biceps. I now see bands of ink looped around his left bicep, with something that looks vaguely Celtic, maybe, under that. Oh yeah, so not an Allen, it should be something more…sexy or mysterious. Like Luke or Jackson. Allen is boring and ordinary, not for someone at fuck-hot as him.

“Fuck-hot, huh?”

Wait. I said that out loud? Damn it. “I’m sorry, Allen’s a great name-”

Allen chuckles. “It’s alright, I get it. I’ve never felt like my name fit me either, but it’s a family name, after my granddad.” He leans in and whispers, “There was this time in highschool when I didn’t answer to anything but “Michaelangelo” but we don’t talk about that. It was super-awkward.” He grins at me and takes a sip of his beer.

I can’t help but laugh and hold my hand up. “Scouts honor. I won’t say a word. Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

When he smiles, I see that sexy dimple again, it makes my stomach do a somersault of flips.

I hold my hand out between us. “I’m Jessica.”

He wraps his warm, callused, hand around mine and gives it a slow shake. “So, what brings you here, Jessica? You with a friend or…?” 

I remove my hand from his, immediately feeling the loss of warmth that was there.

I shake my head. “No, I’m here alone, just out trying to have a good time.” Lifting my glass, I take another sip of my drink.

I lean back and glance at the other end of the bar, in the direction of his friends. “What brought you and your group out tonight?”

He turns his head their way then looks back at me, a low chuckle escaping his perfect lips. “I wanted to stay home and drink myself to sleep but,” he hooks a thumb in his friend’s direction, “those fools kidnapped me.”

“Oh? Now, why would you wanna drink alone when going out with friends is so much more fun?” The song changes to a popular new hip hop jam and it gives me an idea. I sit my glass on the bar and stand. With the alcohol flowing through my veins, I feel bold and confident. “This place has some pretty good music. Wanna dance with me?”

“I can’t dance to save my life, but you go ahead, I’ll just sit here and enjoy the view.” He gives me a once-over, leaving a trail of heat along my body where his eyes pass over.

“No way, I won’t take no for an answer. Just follow my lead and I’ll have you audition-ready for Dancing With The Stars in no time.” I grab his hand and tug, and eventually he gives in and lets me pull him along behind me.

By the time we get to the middle of the dance floor, the music slows down and it’s the perfect rhythm for a slow, sensual dance with a hot guy that you want to let into your panties.

Drawing him close, I slowly slide my hands up his back, locking my fingers together behind his neck, my thumb drawing circles on his skin at his nape. I move my hips in a smooth and steady rhythm for him to match. He said he wasn’t a dancer but his body says otherwise, his moves are as smooth as butter. I grin.

Allen looks down at me, his height making him tower over me like a giant, and he leans closer to my ear. “You’re a good dancer.” He whispers to me.

A shiver racks through my body from his small breaths that blow against my heated skin as he speaks. “This doesn’t really qualify as dancing, we’re only swaying our bodies against each other.”

He grabs one of my hands from behind his neck, and his other hand lowers to rest against my hip. Suddenly he gives my hip a shove as he spins me under his arm then brings my body back flush against his. “Does that qualify as dancing in your book of dance rules?”

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance?” I ask, as we sway to the low, pulsing beat of the music.

Allen shrugs and gives me a cocky grin. “I know a little, doesn’t mean I’ll be in any of the dancing competitions shows you seem to like so much.”

“What makes you think I like dancing competitions shows of any kind?”

“Well, you did mention ‘Dancing With The Moon-”

A sudden burst of giggles escapes me. “It’s not ‘Dancing With The Moon,’ it’s ‘Dancing with the Stars.’ Besides, it’s only one show…”

“Same difference. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” he says, his dimple coming out to say hi to again when he gives me another smile.

We can’t seem to stop smiling at each other. I love it.

But the smiles are short-lived when one of the guys he came with taps him on the shoulder, interrupting our blissful bubble.

“Hey, man, let’s get out of here,” his buddy says. 

So much for bliss.

Lola lives in Missouri with her hubby, their four children, their fur babies (dogs, cats, and goats) and their amazing staff that runs the sprawling ranch…just kidding. They aren’t her staff, they’re her family members but there are way too many to count so just trust her on this.

Energy shots are her daily caffeine addiction because caffeine is life. She loves all things romance, the dirtier the better, and even though she’s never traveled far away from home, in her imagination she’s been all around the world a few hundred times.

She’s been an avid reader for as long as she can remember, but the first romance novel she ever read was Midnight Whispers by V.C. Andrews. Her mom and aunt owned all of her books and she snuck that one off the shelf when she was twelve and never looked back. She enjoys writing contemporary romance with strong and sexy heroines, hot and hunky heroes, and lots and LOTS of panty-melting steam!

STALKER LINKS:

She enjoys connecting with her readers so you can find her in my reader group on FB or connect with her via:

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Lola’s Store: https://lolaclarke.com/shop/

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