Chapter Six
Ginger set two bottles of light beer on the bar, smiling playfully up at the stocky grad student in a backward Bulls hat. Without taking her eyes off him, she swayed to the cash register and made change for his twenty-dollar bill. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, sugar?”
“No, but I’d love to kiss you with it.”
Not a chance in hell, but if you leave me a nice tip, I’ll let you think it’s a possibility.
Ginger set his change on the bar and laughed. “Now, there’s an offer I might consider.”
His slightly drunker friend nudged him with an elbow and raised his eyebrows, clearly approving of Backward Hat’s boldness. Ginger cringed. Not that they didn’t appear to be fine, upstanding young men, but tomorrow they’d wake up with hangovers and either be embarrassed or have forgotten this whole exchange. Or maybe they’d take their girlfriends shopping at the mall, winking at each other when tonight came up in conversation.
“Can I get your number?”
She pulled a sad face. “Sorry, darlin’. I can’t give my number out while I’m working. But if you give me yours, I just might decide to use it.”
Backward Hat high-fived his friend like Ginger wasn’t standing three feet away, then grabbed a napkin from the plastic holder. He drunkenly scrawled his name and number on one side and slid it across the bar. Matt. She stuffed it in her back pocket along with the two other napkins with numbers on them she’d been given tonight. They’d be perfect for her current project. A decoupage trash can decorated with men’s phone numbers. Symbolic.
Backward Hat Matt. Kind of a rat. Since we’ve been chatting, your beer has gone flat.
“You better call me!” Matt said, picking up his drink and disappearing back into the crowd.
Ginger sighed and moved on to the next customers. Thankfully, they had vaginas. While shaking their martinis in a silver shaker, she acknowledged her luck in finding this job. Although the night’s tips hadn’t yet been counted, she’d easily pulled in double what she made working in Nashville.
Sensation stood in a hip part of town with many other bars and nightclubs. With two floors of pumping dance music and three separate bars, college students and young professionals flocked to the establishment every night of the week. Wanting to test her skills, the manager had placed Ginger on the first-floor bar, closest to the entrance where the flow of traffic never ceased, for which she felt grateful. Tonight had been meant as a training shift, but her new coworker Amanda quickly recognized Ginger’s experience and left to work the other side of the bar. The time flew by and the money rolled in.
Looking up from the martinis she artfully strained into chilled glasses, Ginger smiled at the approaching Amanda. Also in her early twenties, Amanda sported a blond pixie cut that Ginger found daring and perfect for her angular face.
Her new coworker had to shout over the music to be heard. “Hey! Looks like you got the hang of everything quick!”
Ginger responded in kind. “Everything is so well-organized all I have to do is make drinks. I’ve been so busy, I don’t think I’ve stopped for a second!”
She leaned in closer and winked. “That’s because all the men have been favoring your side of the bar.”
Ginger gave her a dubious look. “Oh, come on now. Wasn’t that you I saw doing tequila shots with those businessmen about ten minutes ago?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
Ginger laughed and set down napkins in front of the group of girls on which to place their martinis. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Tequila shots are sacred among my kind.”
“Good to know. Listen, you’ve got one more admirer on my end that wants you to serve him. There were no spots available on your side of the bar.”
Frowning, she tried to look past Amanda, but couldn’t make out distinct faces at the other end of the darkened bar. Who would be demanding her service? She hadn’t been in town long enough to make any friends.
“You want to take my side for a while?”
“Sure. Go ahead and serve him.” She hip-bumped Ginger, urging her on. “Honestly, I’m a little jealous. He’s all kinds of hot and smolder-y. Keep thy wits about ye.”
With a laugh, Ginger made her way to the other end of the long bar, gauging drink levels of the customers as she passed. After pausing to fill two orders, she finally made it to the end and saw him.
Derek.
His eyes bored into her, making her feel naked where she stood. The way he sat, exuding quiet confidence, made him stand out amid the animated scene taking place around him.
A slow roll of heat eased its way through her. Goose bumps broke out along her arms. In the brief moment that she met his eyes, the music faded and they were back on the roof. Just her and him. Except this time, he kissed her.
Giving herself a mental shake, Ginger released his unwavering stare to move lower. She’d already seen him in a uniform and then jeans and a sweatshirt, but Ginger pegged this look as her definite favorite. A black T-shirt stretched across his chest, the right sleeve just high enough to show a tattoo peeking out underneath the material. Stubble darkened the lower half of his face, as if he hadn’t shaved since this morning.
He looked dangerous and sexy. And pissed.
She refused to let him rattle her. His parting words on the roof last night had echoed in her head at the strangest times today, making her itchy. Of all the men who’d attempted to pick her up in this lifetime, never had one made it beneath her skin. She didn’t like the feeling.
Much.
Ginger grabbed a tumbler from the clear glass shelf and poured two fingers of their best whiskey.
“Are you here to issue more warnings?” she asked, sliding the drink in front of him.
Keeping his gaze locked on her, Derek picked up the glass and drank a healthy mouthful. Ginger swayed a little watching his throat muscles work as he swallowed, then set the glass down. “No. I think I was abundantly clear the first time.”
His answer reminded her of a whip cracking. “Something bothering you, Derek?”
“How are you getting home tonight?”
She smirked at his nonresponse to her question. “I took the bus.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll take my chances with public transportation.”
He swirled the amber contents of his glass. “Can’t handle being alone with me?”
Damn. There he went again pushing her buttons. She claimed to be a smart girl, but he still knew just how to play her, didn’t he? Ginger always had a difficult time backing down from a challenge, especially when it was being issued by a man who wore a police uniform by day, but liked to talk dirty at night. She found his approach refreshing. He’d explained what he wanted, plain and simple.
A part of herself she hadn’t known existed until yesterday came alive. She wanted to be alone with him. To hear what he’d say next. To see exactly how he hoped to accomplish his goal of getting her into bed. A man hadn’t tempted her in a long time, and never this way. Never this strongly.
I want to be buried inside you so deep that I have to remind you of your own name.
Ginger shivered at the memory.
“I get off in an hour. If you don’t mind waiting…?”
A fire lit in his eyes. “I’ll wait.”
For the next hour, Ginger remained on Derek’s end of the bar serving the finally thinning crowd. Men continued to flirt with her and she didn’t allow Derek’s presence to prevent her from flirting back. She had a living to make, after all. Without looking at him, she knew he continued to watch her. His constant regard burned her up, made her feel feverish. Heaviness settled between her legs and she grew increasingly damp, making it difficult to concentrate on work.
In retaliation for the discomfort he was putting her through, Ginger began leaning a little too far across the bar to hear someone’s order or exposing a little more stomach than necessary to reach something on the higher shelves. The uniform worn by the bartenders at Sensation consisted of tiny black shorts and matching halter top. Even with Ginger’s penchant for dressing to distract, the outfit left very little to the imagination.
Still, he’d occupied her thoughts more than she felt comfortable admitting and he would suffer for it, she thought, bending at the waist to pick up a dropped napkin and giving him a nice look at her ass.
Finally, the hour ended and not a moment too soon. Ginger felt ready to expire under Derek’s hot scrutiny from the end of the bar. She collected her tips and waved good-bye to Amanda, then held up a finger to let Derek know she would be another minute. As soon as she had her purse, she met him at the entrance.
Wordlessly, he held the door for her leading to the parking lot and walked brusquely to a black SUV. He opened the passenger door, allowing her to slip inside, green eyes on her as she edged past. Derek’s leather and coffee scent lingered in the car’s interior, and as he rounded the back of the car, she inhaled, committing it to memory.
The ride between Sensation and their apartment building took ten minutes. For the first half of the ride, they both remained silent, but Ginger could almost feel the aggravation radiating from Derek.
“So, tell me. Is bartending the only type of employment you could find?”
Ginger bristled. “There aren’t exactly dozens of options where I can bring home the same kind of money. Besides, I’m good at it.”
He laughed bitterly. “Oh, believe me, I know how good you are. I just witnessed it firsthand.”
“I have Willa to think about. She’ll be in college next year and I aim to see her go wherever she wants.”
“On a bartender’s salary.”
His skepticism irked her, but she kept silent. Bringing up the stolen cash would be high on the list of stupid ideas. Ginger knew how expensive college would be and held no illusions that sending Willa would be easy. But she’d see it accomplished nonetheless.
“If you need me to get a job in some lame-ass real estate office just so you feel better about sleeping with me, you’re wasting your time, honey. And mine.”
His eyes didn’t leave the road, but his jaw flexed at her words. “I assume, based on your statement, that you’ve given some thought to what I proposed last night?”
Jesus, who talked like that? “I’m considering it.”
“Is there anything I can do to speed you along?”
“I don’t know…”
“Think harder.”
Turning her face toward the window, Ginger smiled. She’d finally succeeded in rattling him a little for a change. “You’re going to have to work for it a little, Derek.”
“I’m not exactly a champagne and soft music type of guy.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I like cheap red wine and country music.”
Derek pulled into a spot outside the building and Ginger hopped out, intending to bolt inside her apartment and savor the fact that she’d finally gotten in the last word. She made it up the stairs, down the quiet hallway, and to her apartment door before she felt him come up behind her. Suddenly, the keys were snatched from her hand. She spun around in time to see Derek drop them into his pocket.
Her mouth fell open at his audacity. “What are you doing?”
“You can have them back in a minute.”
Derek’s gravelly tone called several other things into focus. The slight flush of his cheekbones, his roughened breathing, the overwhelming nearness of his hard body. Her back arched against the door, an unconscious move that drew his gaze downward, to where her breasts pressed snugly inside her halter top.
I want him to look at me.
The realization shook her and she swallowed as he took a step closer, her throat suddenly dry. “I thought I told you you needed to work for it.”
He leaned down, and his big hands came to rest on either side of her head, mouth stopping a mere inch away from hers. “I think we have two different definitions of what working for it means.”
“Oh? What’s your definition?”
“Do you want to me to tell you?” He brushed his lips along the underside of her jaw. “Or show you?”
The blistering contact of his mouth on her skin sent shock waves coursing through her system. Since meeting, she and Derek had shared two sexually charged encounters, but this moment marked the first time he’d touched her and the effect was like a drug straight to her brain. Her head fell back, inviting him to kiss her in the sensitive spot again, but he remained still, waiting for her answer.
She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “Show me.”
His mouth came down on hers, hard and hungry. The initial contact proved so potent, they both had to pause for a shuddering breath. When she slid her hands up to his shoulders and dug her nails in his flesh, he groaned and lifted her against the door. Desperate to get closer, Ginger’s legs came up to circle his waist, and she moaned when Derek pushed against her with his hips, holding her backside in place with rough hands. She broke contact with his mouth, gasping at the hardness pressing against her damp shorts.
“Did you enjoy putting on that little show for me behind the bar?”
One hand left her bottom to travel up, over her hip and rib cage, stopping just under her right breast, eyes piercing hers with a silent question. Oh, God. She nodded, and when his palm slid up and over her breast, squeezing gently, her eyelids fluttered closed at the excess of sensations. She could feel him watching her, weighing her every reaction as he ran his thumb back and forth across her hard nipple. The arousal she’d experienced earlier tonight while Derek watched her work exploded with added intensity. A whimper escaped her lips. A sharp ache pulsed between her thighs.
“I asked you a question. Did you enjoy it?”
Derek’s words deepened the ache beating within her to a painful level. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to whip off her shorts and panties to take her hard and fast against the door. She licked her lips. “Yes.”
His eyes flared. “Was your performance for me alone or every man with a goddamn pair of eyes?”
He expected her to talk when his mouth was moving to her neck, sucking the sensitive spot underneath her ear? Expert lips traced a path down to her collarbone and back up, and he bit the tender area with a low growl.
“Is it all a tease or do you ever let them take you home?”
Ginger rolled her head to the side, begging for his lips to return to her neck. The hand plastered to her ass kneaded relentlessly, keeping her moving against his erection with intensifying friction. If he would just let her move her hips a little, she would come, even with her shorts on, but his hand and hips controlled her every action. She made a sound of frustration.
His breath rasped out harshly against her ear, punctuated by each thrust that pinned her to the shaking door. Knowing she affected him so powerfully in return made her dizzy. When his mouth found hers once more, she bit his lower lip then licked it, meeting his eyes under heavy lids. He responded by devouring her mouth on a loud groan, sucking her tongue until she writhed against him.
When Derek abruptly ceased his calculated torture, Ginger protested, seeking his mouth once more. He resisted.
Levering her against the door, he ran skilled hands down her thighs and hooked his arms under her knees, pulling them up until they almost reached his shoulders. Then his hips pressed in and upward. Hitting her right where she needed it. Ginger’s head fell back against the door.
“Derek.”
“Answer me.”
She couldn’t remember the question. Her breath raced through her lips. Release hovered just within her reach. “No! I don’t go home with any of them. Ever.”
Her sincere answer appeared to calm him somewhat, but then he stepped back, dropped her legs and let her slide down his body. They both groaned at the contact. Ginger wanted to cry with frustration and nearly did so, but then the reality of their situation hit her full force. She’d been two seconds from letting a near-stranger screw her in a public hallway. Although this type of reckless behavior was out of character for her, it eerily reminded her of something. Someone.
Her mother.
Bitter anger and shame swept through her. Pushing against Derek’s chest, she let him see the full force of her fury. “And after that performance, what the hell makes you any different from the drunken a*sholes at the bar? You’re exactly like them. The only difference is I had the bad fortune of moving next door to you.”
His momentary calm evaporated and he backed her once more against the door, grasping her chin in his hand. “The difference is, you don’t want any of those men to f*ck you. But you want me to f*ck you very badly. Don’t you, Ginger?”
“No.”
Laughing darkly, one big hand dropped between her legs. He palmed her mound and squeezed, then ran two seeking fingers along the seam of her shorts where the telltale wetness gave her away. “Liar.”
“I hate you.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Would you like me to prove what a liar you are?”
“No, I’d like you to give me my keys so I can get the hell away from you.”
She snatched the keys from his outstretched hand and unlocked the door. Once inside, she threw the deadbolt and leaned back against the door, breathing heavily through her nose.
A moment later she heard heavy footsteps move down the hall.
Sinking down onto the floor, Ginger quickly realized three things.
One: She’d completely underestimated the effect Derek had on her. He possessed the ability to make her completely forget everything but him. The effect he had on her body. Valerie had forgotten herself one too many times and Ginger wouldn’t follow suit. No way in hell.
Two: He’d somehow stolen the phone numbers from her back pocket without her knowledge.
Three: She needed a vibrator. A powerful one.