“To overbearing fathers?” I asked, lifting my shot glass a little higher.
The man chuckled, and it was like a sultry night on satin sheets. He raised the beer Gina had left for him before she blushed and scurried to the other end of the bar. A dark tan hand, strong with perfectly manicured fingernails, angled his beer against my shot glass. The two clinked together under the low-hanging light.
He returned, “To overbearing fathers.”
We both tipped our drinks back in agreement of our toast. The whiskey warmed my throat just as I’d needed tonight. I pushed the empty glass away from me and pulled my beer closer.
I twirled my drink in slow motion and stared down the neck of the bottle to the golden alcohol, my anger rising once more. If my father just had listened, I wouldn’t have needed to plan my escape tonight. I wouldn’t have needed to forge his name on the Corporation Army’s enlistment—which was illegal in all the wrong ways. Now, I would be leaving him behind for a future he did not want for me.
“Speak again,” the man stated.
My brows puckered, but I didn’t look up from my stare down with my drink. “Why?”
He didn’t immediately answer. But when he did, it was quiet. “Your voice doesn’t hurt my ears.”
I chuckled. “That’s a new one.”
His shoulders shrugged. “It’s the truth.” He took another drink from his beer. “What’s your name?”
“Poppy.”
“That’s new.” He grunted and took another drink. “Last name?”
I didn’t hesitate to give him my middle name. I didn’t like people knowing I was the daughter of the great General Carvene. “My name’s Poppy Bree.”
He reciprocated in kind. “I’m Godric Leon.”
I took a slow swig of my beer, closing my eyes just to listen to that delicious voice of his. “Are you here on business, Godric?”
“I am. You?”
I peered down at my simple navy cargo pants and white t-shirt. I laughed outright imagining myself going to a meeting with the legendary General Carvene dressed as I was.
“No. I live here on base.”
When he took the longest drink so far, I waited. Just waited, with my eyes now open, for him to speak in that beautiful accent. He sat his beer down very gradually and paused. He leaned closer to me, and I didn’t move as he stole my remaining shot of whiskey.
When he downed that, he asked evenly, “Are you married, Poppy?”
The bar quieted once more, and I glanced in the direction of the throng. They were still talking, but it seemed more passive. Or perhaps I was just getting used to their disorderly group. I shook my head and pushed my beer away. I knew where this was going.
“No, I’m not married. Not yet, anyway.” I flicked a finger at him. “You?”
“I’ve never been married.” He drummed his fingers on the bar, his long tan fingers. “Your age?”
“Old enough.”
“For?”
“What you’re about to ask me next.”
More drumming of his fingers. “I need your age, Poppy.” He didn’t pretend ignorance.
I liked that about him.
“I’m twenty-four.”
His fingers stopped drumming. “And you’re not married?”
“Not yet,” I repeated.
His pointer finger started drawing invisible circles on the wooden bar. “Is that why your father is an overbearing asshole?”
I pulled my beer back to me. “I guess this isn’t going where I thought it was.”
His laughter tickled my ears in the most pleasant way, deep with a rumble of an entertained man. “All right. No more talking about your father.” His pointed finger made those lazy circles on the scarred wood. His voice lowered to a dominant purr. “Would you like to leave here with me?”
I took one last drink of my beer. “To have sex?”
I could be blunt too.
“Yes.” There was seductive humor in his tone.
The noise had definitely died down in the bar.
I peered out into the crowd, but no one was looking this way. I pushed my beer away from me once more. “You haven’t even seen my face.”
“And you haven’t looked at mine either.”
True. “Then why?”
He shrugged. “I like your voice.”
My lips curved up. “I like yours too.”
“So?” Godric waited with patience I didn’t have.
“Yes, I’ll leave with you for a few hours.”
My father would hate this choice. A corporate man.
A corporate rich man.
That made him perfect to have a romp with before I left this place. My anger would have a nice outlet…and release. Plus, I might as well see if these corporate men were any good in bed—since I was headed to New City, anyway. That was all they had there. It was time to give them a good ol’ test drive.
CHAPTER THREE
Godric turned, slid from his chair, and buttoned his suit jacket in one fluid move. “Let’s go.”
A little bossy, but I didn’t mind.
I was on a time crunch.
“Gina, put my drinks on my tab,” I hollered.
She nodded and waggled her eyebrows, fully knowing what I was doing.
I turned and slid off my seat, not nearly as gracefully as he had.
When I landed, my right foot slammed on top of his left one. He didn’t complain. He merely pulled his shiny shoe out from underneath my sneaker and grabbed ahold of my shoulders, steadying me. His hands fell to his sides as I stared at his massive chest. I was almost eye level with it. He was much larger than I had thought.
He grunted. “Are you sure you’re twenty-four?”
“Yes.” I straightened my shoulders. I knew I wasn’t tall.
“Were you hit with the short stick as a child?” Humor laced his tone.
I snorted. “Did you eat magic beans as a child? You’re like an ogre.”