She smiled and bopped a little to the music, “Come with Me Now” by Kongos. Her head moved to the steady beat and she met Jack’s eyes. The bartender was moving to the same beat. They shared a smile as Jack pulled a draft beer, then did a little spin to grab another glass. Amber laughed.
She bit her lip as she glanced toward the table of hockey players. Were these guys going to treat her any differently now that they knew who her father was and what he’d done?
She served drinks to the table whose order she’d taken a few minutes ago, then carried a beer over and set it in front of Duncan.
“Hey, why does he get a drink when we’ve barely sat down?” Hugh asked.
Because I love him.
Whoa. Enough of the scary thoughts.
“He gets the first beer because he scored two goals last night,” she said.
“Riiiiight.”
“Awwww.”
But their smart-ass comments were all made with big smiles and eye contact with her. Relief filtered through her that things weren’t weird with them.
“You watched the game last night, baby?” Duncan asked.
“Sure.”
“Hey, where’s your boss?” Hugh asked her, frowning. “Thought Rupper would be here.”
“I don’t know.” She hitched a shoulder.
“Probably out with some chick,” Ryan said. “The guy’s got women all over him, all the time.”
This was not wrong. “What can I get you all? The usual?” By now she knew what they all liked to drink. They didn’t vary much in their drink choices. Then she moved away to get their drinks.
“Gonna follow you home,” Duncan whispered in her ear much later as she was cashing out.
“Oh my God, you’re the sixth guy who’s told me that tonight.”
He froze. “What?”
She burst out laughing. “I’m kidding.”
“Okay, good. Jesus. Thought I missed something there. Although I did see the way guys were looking at you all night.”
“Right. And no, you did not miss a chance to defend me from drunk guys trying to hit on me.”
“I totally would.”
“I totally know.” She bugged her eyes at him, but they both still smiled.
—
She got to her apartment before him, unsure if Easton was home or not, but it didn’t really matter. She let herself in and found the apartment dark and quiet. She flicked on lights and dropped the high heels that she’d taken off in the elevator. Duncan buzzed moments later and she let him in.
She barely had her coat off before he attacked her, tackling her to the couch and pressing her down into the cushions with his big body, his mouth hot on hers. “Missed you so much, baby.”
“Me too.”
“Wanted to hear all about the new job. Wanted to be with you.”
She kissed him back, hungry for the taste of him, the smell of his skin. “Oh, Duncan.” She wanted to ask, What are we doing? But that sounded like the kind of girl question a guy never wanted to hear or answer, so she swallowed the words and let his mouth and hands distract her.
“You sure I can touch your feet?” He opened his mouth on the side of her neck and gently sucked. “You won’t kick me in the face?”
She smiled lazily, head tilted to give him access to her neck. His tongue slid over her skin, down to the hollow of her throat, and he kissed her there. “If you promise not to call me Bigfoot.”
He choked on a laugh. “I promise.”
“I have some massage oil we could use. I’ll get it.”
He gave her one more kiss on the mouth before she went to retrieve the oil. When she returned, he was sitting on one end of the couch. He patted the cushion. “Come lie down and put your feet in my lap.”
She did as he asked, handing him the bottle. She adjusted a cushion behind her head and relaxed as he began to massage her feet. Languor stole over her, sliding through her veins like honey. A moan slipped from her lips. “That feels soooooo good.”
“Your feet are sexy.”
Her lips quirked but she kept her eyes closed. “They are not.”
“I think they are.” He dug his thumb into the arch of one foot and she gave a little whimper of pleasure. “That feel good?”
“Oh yeah.”
He worked over one foot, then the other. She couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed.
Then his oily hands moved up her calf, fingers pressing into her calf muscle.
“Mmm.”
He shifted on the couch closer to her, hands massaging her legs, deep, slow strokes down her calves, then back up and over her knees to her thighs. The honey in her veins turned to fizzy champagne and her skin tingled everywhere. She dragged open her eyes to look at him as his clever fingers moved to her inner thigh.
“That’s not my feet.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Baby, I know.”
Her * squeezed as he kept stroking her, hands going higher, pushing her skirt up. He used both hands on one thigh, clasping it and slowly running them up as high as he could, fingers brushing her panties, then sliding down again. He did that over and over, switched to the other leg, easing her thighs apart.
She was burning up now, eager for him to touch her where she really needed it, aching there. He shoved the skirt right to her waist, baring her, legs stretched out over his lap, and then he did touch her, right there, rubbing her through her panties.