Any Way You Want It. Kathy Love
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Название: Any Way You Want It
Автор: Kathy Love
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Эротическая литература
Серия: New Orleans Vampires
isbn: 9780758283306
isbn:
Ren finished singing, offering a routine thank you to the crowd swarming the bar.
“Dude, what’s going on tonight?” his lead guitarist, Drake, leaned in to ask. Drake was a vampire, too, but Drake was a run-of-the-mill bloodsucker, while Ren had the dubious distinction of being a lampir, an energy sucker.
Ren frowned at his bandmate. Okay, with his goatee grown long, head shaved except for a long queue ponytailed on the back of his head, and a skull shirt, Drake was far from run-of-the-mill. And he’d been a pirate in life.
“What do you mean?” Ren asked, not following Drake’s comment.
Drake frowned, which made him look almost sinister, except Ren knew he was harmless. Well, unless crossed. Okay, he was still a pirate, really.
“You sang the same lyric three times.”
Ren frowned. “No I didn’t.”
“You totally did,” Johnny said, appearing from behind his drums, heading down off the stage. Johnny had been a gangster in his former life. Unlike Drake, he didn’t look the part at all now, in his tie-dyed T-shirt and ripped jeans.
Ren frowned at the drummer’s sudden desertion, but then decided that maybe he could use a little break as well. He announced the band would be back in ten. The sound guy, a really annoying human with far more attitude than he deserved to have, started the pounding beat of dj’ed dance-pop before Ren could even finish his announcement.
Normally that really pissed him off, but tonight Ren was too preoccupied with other thoughts to be bothered. Instead, he pretended to busy himself with some of the equipment—the best method to avoid the five busty, leggy women, who were already rushing the stage to talk.
But there was no need to worry. The other band members were more than happy to greet the women. And that gave Ren opportunity to cast more looks over at the one at the bar.
Most of the set, she’d sat with her back to the stage, sipping a beer. He’d deduced she was with two other women. Her friends had befriended a couple of men at the bar and were now chatting and dancing with them, while Miss Curvy sat alone.
He checked the bass levels on the amps, which were fine. Which he knew already. Were the men here tonight bloody blind? She was the most intriguing woman in the room.
Then he decided he was glad she wasn’t getting the usual regiment of drunks hitting on her. That idea bothered him more than he cared to consider. He checked the treble. Also fine—as he knew.
He straightened up from the equipment and looked her way again. She was wearing a black blouse with a pair of black, cuffed pants and black shoes. Nothing exciting about that. He cast a quick—a very quick, because it was never wise to make direct eye contact with horny women if you were trying to avoid them—look at the barely clad ladies. What they’d chosen to wear was tight, bright, and accompanied by high heels. All selected to attract attention.
He looked back to the other woman. She looked as if she wanted to fade into the shadows. She didn’t want any attention whatsoever.
And before he realized his intent, he was strolling down the steps of the stage, heading right in her direction.
Maggie took another sip of her beer, hoping the bitter liquid would make her a little more relaxed. She wanted to get back to that warm, cheery feeling she’d had when she’d left the restaurant. But she was rapidly realizing she wasn’t a beer drinker, especially lukewarm beer.
She drew in a deep breath. At least the band had stopped playing, and she was no longer surrounded by that voice. She wasn’t a big Beyoncé fan, but at least the woman’s voice, which now surrounded her from the sound system, didn’t make her insides feel all funny.
She looked over at her friends, who conversed animatedly with two new men—sailors all decked out in their dress whites. She had no idea where the businessmen had disappeared to.
She shook her head, amused at the attention her friends were attracting. They were amazing. But instead of the usual twinge of envy, she only felt tired. She wanted to head back to the hotel. The events of the day had caught up with her, and she just felt drained.
But she knew if she told her friends she was going to go, they’d insist on walking back with her, even though—and sadly, it had taken her most of the night to realize this fact—they were actually in a bar right across the street from their hotel. Still she knew her friends would leave with her, and she didn’t want to ruin their fun.
Erika started dancing with one of the sailors, laughing at something he leaned in to say. Her laughter lit up her face, making her features stunningly lovely. There was a part of Maggie that wished she could be like that. A flirt. Comfortable with the opposite sex. She never had been though. Not until Peter—and well, that hadn’t worked out well, had it?
Maggie glanced toward the stage, telling herself she wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, even as she searched for long hair and intense eyes. She promptly assured herself that it wasn’t disappointment she felt when she couldn’t locate them.
Her gaze moved back to her friends. Jo and her new friend had joined Erika and her guy. They all danced and laughed.
Again Maggie smiled. Okay, maybe this time a touch of envy tightened her chest.
“Are you having fun?”
Maggie started, literally jerking in her seat at the voice so near her. Strange, that she could be so startled when the bar was already loud.
Then she saw who spoke to her. The musician. The one with the strange eyes. Now, close up, she could also add a great smile to his description. White teeth with the corners of his lips curled slightly, giving his grin a Cheshire-cat quality. And she’d been right, his speaking voice was indeed husky, like the rich, warm brush of heated velvet.
“Umm, yeah,” she managed to say, trying not to stare at his mouth. But when she moved her gaze, she was staring into his eyes, and that made her uncomfortable too. She opted to look at the button of his shirt. Except just above that button was a V of bare chest covered in faint whorls of dark chest hair.
She looked down at her hands.
“Can I get you a drink?”
She glanced up at him, half expecting that he was talking to someone else now, but his eyes were still locked on her. In the blue and red light cast by the neon beer signs behind the bar, the eyelashes of his left eye looked faintly purple. She blinked, sure she was seeing things. Either that or the wine from dinner hadn’t worn off as much as she’d thought.
“No, thank you,” she finally said, her gaze returning to the buttons of his shirt, the one below the top one, so she couldn’t see the chest.
“Stacy,” he called, gesturing to the bartender with the braids springing out of her head. Once he caught her attention, he nodded. She nodded back and bounced away. Apparently her braids really were antennae; he didn’t even have to speak to communicate with her.
“Are you visiting here?”
Maggie СКАЧАТЬ