Dirty Martini (Crow Bar Brute Squad Book 2) Read online

  The young man standing on the opposite side of them stared back at her with two pools of aqua blue eyes in a boyish but brooding face. Black tattoos decorated the skin above his shirt’s collar, which was filled out by a pair of shoulders so built she could actually envision herself hiding against his chest.

  Just the thought of that made her yearn for a respite from her hectic world. Those huge arms could wrap her up and make the world disappear.

  A bump in the fabric of his tight black shirt clued her in that he had a nipple piercing. She wondered about the heightened sensation she assumed that little ring or stud produced when touched. Her body reacted in all kinds of wicked ways as her imagination wandered.

  She tore her gaze away from that teasing bump to meet his stare again. The heat in his eyes was no misinterpretation this time. Though his smile had been friendly when she’d first walked in, this smoldering look was communicating something else. Oh my. Warmth filled her belly and made her forget all about her need for a real meal. Instead, she envisioned this tree of a man carrying her to bed to fuck away all her stress and worry and frustration.

  The corner of his mouth curled up just slightly; he’d caught her blatantly staring. That’s when she realized she’d been frozen, just staring at him with her martini glass lifted halfway up to her mouth.

  That’s what thinking about a quick fuck with a stranger gets you. Lightheaded, forgetful staring, and all the blood in her body rushing below her navel.

  With a shaking hand, she set her glass down. The heat in her cheeks stoked into a full-body furnace. That complete stranger was making her feel things as if he were already touching her. How did he do that?

  Novelty, she told herself. This young man was not her typical type. She never considered someone with tattoos or piercings or someone who seemed so much younger than she was. Or one with this much pure muscle. Or someone who looked at her as if he could already tell which way she liked to get fucked.

  The people in her typical social circles were full of complications. Way too many were also into open relationships. There was nothing wrong with polyamory if it worked, but it certainly did not work for Katie. She wasn’t good at sharing.

  But what did it matter that he stared at her, smiled at her, and offered her snacks? For all she knew, he could be as complicated as she was, have an even busier schedule than she did. For all she knew, he could work three jobs.

  Even so, she had never enjoyed being looked at like that, until now.

  His eyes traveled down her body, and yes, right to her damn cleavage. She had to get a new tailor who understood high-end business dress for plus-sized women. Sure, she had a nice rack. She was aware of it. She even liked it. But she hated how distracting it was sometimes. This time, though, she didn’t mind the staring. She didn’t mind him staring.

  The young bouncer’s eyes didn’t linger long on her breasts, though. He’d taken a step back from the bar to look at her from behind.

  Katie sucked in a breath and also sucked in her gut, fully aware of two things. One: This was an instinctive response by women due to society’s messages that there is somehow something wrong with round bellies. Two, sucking in one’s gut does nothing to de-emphasize the size and shape of one’s ass. Even with this awareness, she still pulled this shit on herself.

  Was he closer, all of a sudden? How did he do that? Was he a vampire? Part predator? She couldn’t be sure…but yes. Yes, he was definitely closing the distance.

  Before she could logically decide how to respond, she found herself standing up. Why? Because she knew her silhouette in that dress was much more banging when she stood, rather than when her rolls were all scrunched up together as she sat.

  Even accounting for all of her accomplishments, she’d still been subjected to men saying things to her such as, “you have such a pretty face.” Translation: “I like to look at your face but not your body.”

  Why am I doing this to myself when I know better than that? One of life’s eternal mysteries of womanhood.

  Chapter Five

  Holden

  An ass so round and perfect, he’d never seen sitting on that stool before.

  He’d thought she was cute in that overcoat. When he’d gotten the full view of her hourglass shape that was underneath, he barely knew what to do with himself.

  Holden had just heard the second-worst news of his life. Mavis, his boss and longtime owner of Crow Bar, was selling the place and moving to Mississippi to be with her daughter and grandkids. He and a few of the other staff had actually broken down in tears. Mavis was like a second mom to most in the Brute Squad.

  His tears had dried as the meeting wore on. Soon, Mavis was explaining about the new owner. She talked about the new owner, someone called Declan O’Donnell. Holden was supposed to be paying attention, but this Declan character sounded to him like a real bore.

  Soon, his wandering eyes found their way again to the lady with the martini sitting on the other side of Levi and Fiona.

  She appeared to be done with the snacks and seemed to have no more interest in drinking her martini, holding it halfway to her lips and blatantly staring at him now.

  He knew he shouldn’t, but his body never listened to the “shoulds.” His feet inched away from the bar so he could get a better look at that ass. She had her red overcoat draped over her lap, but he could still see the sexy curve of her calves in those high heels. He didn’t know much about designer shoes, but he thought he remembered his sisters talking about the ones with red soles that cost upwards of $800. Those were definitely red soles.

  Those kinds of shoes should have been the first clue that she was way too far out of his league, although they couldn’t stop staring at each other.

  However, he thought, social status wasn’t necessarily a barrier to just plain old hot sex, was it?

  Backing away from the bar and ever so slowly making his way in her direction, Holden liked what he saw. He didn’t care how aware she was of his gaze; he spotted her glancing back at him over her shoulder, like a rabbit frozen in the snow while the wolf waited patiently for her to make the slightest twitch.

  The next move happened unexpectedly when she stood up from her stool and smoothed down her skirt.

  Was she freaking out? Running away?

  Holden stilled himself and waited. But no, that wasn’t it. After smoothing down her skirt, she lifted her soulful gray eyes to meet his.

  He had one ear on the meeting, and he could feel the questioning looks from the fellow members of the Brute Squad—and probably a hairy eyeball from Mavis. Yet far more of his senses were tuned in to this woman in front of him. The banging curves made his throat dry right up. Those red lips, dark hair, and gray eyes were about to knock him on his ass. But there was so much more there. Behind those eyes and curves lived a heart of a woman—a fearless lioness. And cats were his favorite thing, besides boxing and flirting.

  She had a glint in her eye that told him she was down for anything.

  It could be a one-night stand.

  It could be a quickie in the alley.

  Hell, this fierce lady looked like she’d just as quickly get off from spanking a dude. If that was the case, he was down. Holden would be first in line.

  Get a grip, kid, he told himself. If she’s down for a one-night stand, you got no place to take her. You don’t really want to rut her in an alleyway or a storeroom, do you?

  The meeting broke up, and most of the guys left or went back to work. All except Holden. He moved in close to her, leaning one forearm on the bar.

  Finally, he got hold of his senses. “Hi.”

  “We meet again,” she said, smiling.

  He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I was a little busy when you first came in.” Holden held up his arm and looked at it. “But see? Got that wart burned off, and now I’m free to talk.”

  She laughed at his dumb joke, and Holden exhaled, relieved that she hadn’t rolled her eyes or worse, looked at him confused.

  She smiled again
as she turned and picked up her drink that she’d set down on the bar and ran the pad of her finger around the rim of her glass. “Katie Moss. And you are?”

  “Holden Murphy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Holden Murphy. I take it you work here?”

  “Yeah. I’m one of the Brute Squad.”

  She knitted her brow. “The what?” Even confused, her face slew him.

  “A nickname from one of our customers. She was a big fan of that movie…uh…”

  Katie’s eyes lit up. “The Princess Bride!”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. She was a customer for 20 years, would come into the bar every week. When she came on her birthday, Griff would play Princess Bride for her on the TV set. She started calling us bouncers the Brute Squad, and it stuck.”

  She knit her eyebrows together. “You’re using past tense. She was a customer? Not is?”

  Holden rubbed his chest. “Yeah. We lost Evie during the…well, you know.”

  He felt rude, not looking her in the eye. When he looked up from the floor, he saw the stark transformation in her face. She wasn’t flirting anymore. She was feeling sad for him.

  Way to bring the mood down, Holden.

  “I’m so sorry that happened. She sounds like a special person.”

  Holden lifted one shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about sad stuff.”

  Again she knitted her perfectly shaped eyebrows together, but even that look of grave concern was lovely on her. “Oh, you mean like have a real conversation? On the contrary, I prefer real conversations. I’m honored that you shared that with me. I lost my grandfather for the same reason. He was a hard man, but he was my mentor.”

  Holden shifted his weight from one foot to the other and stared down at the grain of the oak bar. Full of divots and varnished more times in its 50 years, he wondered how many times guys like him had struck out in this very spot. “Nice of you to share that.”

  He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up again to meet her gaze. “Nice doesn’t really have anything to do with it. I’m really not that nice.” She had such an honest, straightforward way about her. The way she talked breathed life into his chest. And yet, her words about herself were troubling.

  He frowned. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he held back, instead crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning his midsection against the bar.

  “It’s not like that. I’m just a no-bullshit kind of person. Some people find me to be a bit of a hardass.”

  She studied his arms, shoulders, chest. He liked the way her eyes roamed his body. They weren’t actually touching each other, but it almost felt as if they were.

  “You have a nice smile,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Martinis, huh?” He gestured with his forehead to the tell-tale glass in her hand.

  “The dirtier, the better. But I have to say, your friend Griff here makes better martinis than my usual spot uptown.” She licked her lips after she spoke. He felt that in his toes.

  “And what spot would that be?” He named all the fancy places he could think of. Judging by her clothes and demeanor, he guessed she worked in the financial district. She probably drank at the famous Ocean Bar on De Tour Pier. Also, a possibility was that steakhouse near St. Patrick’s Cathedral where his sisters had been trying to convince their boyfriends and husbands to book reservations a year in advance. What was it called? Donatelli’s…rumored to be owned by one of the Dockside wise guys.

  Katie shook her head and said, “Nope, none of those,” when he listed off all his guesses about her favorite bar. “I usually drink at Jupiter, top floor of Ecco Tower, before I head home after work. After tonight, I’m sending the Jupiter bar staff to get lessons from Griff here.”

  Holden had no doubt Katie wielded that kind of power, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “That’s a bold statement.”

  She arched one eyebrow and said, “Not so bold, considering they all work for me.”

  There was a moment when Holden didn’t know what to do with the new information that he was standing in front of the woman who owned fucking Ecco Tower. He thought maybe his nuts would shrink up inside his body cavity in fear. Instead, his body betrayed him with an insta-boner that could have rivaled the steel beams in the famous skyscraper itself.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but cackling laughter from a man behind him interrupted him. “You can’t flirt with the customers, you know that!” Holden gritted his teeth but didn’t bother turning around. He wasn’t about to start something with Billy right now. Sure, Billy’s mouth got him into enough trouble to provoke a wrestling match on any given day—with his friends as well as the customers—but Holden was not in the mood. And he for sure didn’t want to put on that kind of Cro-Magnon display in front of Katie. She was not a lady who enjoyed fights, if he had to guess. Indeed, she had reached her limit when she’d witnessed him forcefully removing Dougie just moments earlier.

  Barely turning his face, he hissed at Billy through a clenched jaw. “Shut the fuck up, Billy.”

  He then turned back to Katie and apologized for cursing, and she waved him off.

  “You own a whole damn skyscraper?”

  She shrugged and downed the rest of her drink, plonking the glass onto the bar. “Not exactly. But kind of.”

  “Confusing and mysterious. Go on.”

  “My company owns it. It’s complicated, but the end result is that my company collects the rent from most of the businesses and offices located in the building. I run my development and brokerage companies out of the offices there. There’s more to it than that, but, sure, if I wanted to tell the bar staff to change the drink menu, I could. If I wanted to fuss over what kinds of events take place in the ballrooms, I could do that. I don’t care much for boxing, so if I got it in my head to cancel all boxing matches, I could do that. But I have people who have people who delegate yet other people to handle all that stuff.”

  Holden could barely understand a word of it, except the part about the ballrooms and boxing matches. As a semi-professional fighter himself, fighting at the Diamond Plaza—the one owned by this woman standing in front of him—was one of his dreams.

  He tried to imagine what it would be like if he rose high enough in the rankings to fight at one of those big title matches. What would it be like to have someone like Katie Moss watching him in the stands? Holden allowed his imagination to wander even further for a moment. What if a woman like her were his girlfriend, cheering him on during a fight? Instead of feeling totally exhausted after going six rounds, he could be amped up on pure frustration—having abstained from sex for a couple of weeks. He didn’t have to dig too deep to understand how her soft curves and valleys would feel underneath his hard body. Those magnificent tits spilling over in his grip. Those wide hips bucking against him, giving him ample flesh to hold onto while he pumped into her.

  Holden’s stomach lurched when he realized he’d been silent for too long, lost in his silly fantasy, forgetting a genuine and unbelievably interested female was standing right in front of him. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. She asked, “You look distracted. Do you need to be somewhere?”

  He apologized and wondered aloud the thing he’d been wondering about since the second he saw her walk into Crow Bar. “So, what the hell are you doing down here?”

  Katie laughed, and the sound of it reminded him of a bubbling fountain. He felt lifted by her laughter, and not at all as if she were laughing at him.

  “That’s the second time in the last couple of hours I’ve been asked that question. What am I doing down here? I’m starting to wonder myself. My company is in charge of a project up the street from here, and I just had a really rough meeting. So, this seemed like a good place to go after a terrible day at work.”

  Judging by the number of shift workers Holden knew who gathered here day after day, her guess was partially correct. “Yeah, we get a lot of the same peopl
e, whether or not they had a rough day at the office.”

  The tiny hairs on the back of Katie’s neck stood on end, suddenly. Someone else was crowding her from the side. Annoyed at having to look away from young Holden and his sexy chin dimple, Katie turned and glared at the presence at her left shoulder. She didn’t say hello but lifted an eyebrow at a casually dressed man holding out her favorite drink. She looked at the glass and back up at the man, whose eyes were slightly glassy yet brimming with confidence.

  Holden growled. “Speaking of regulars.” He took the glass abruptly away from the man and passed it across the bar to Griff. The customer barked in protest. “Louie, come on,” Griff said, pointing at Louie with the nozzle of a seltzer bottle. “You know customers are not allowed to hand-deliver drinks. Now hit the bricks.”

  To Katie’s surprised, Louie shook his head and obeyed, backing away from Katie and soon heading out the door, grumbling, with his winter parka halfway on.

  She turned to Griff. “Good rule.”

  “Sorry about that, ma’am.”

  She told him to think nothing of it, reached into her bag to retrieve her pocketbook, placed some new bills on the bar, and ordered a second drink for herself.

  “Not terribly unlike running a daycare center,” she remarked to Holden, her eyes happily back to their new favorite pastime of staring at the young bouncer’s chin dimple.

  Holden laughed. “Sometimes it’s like that,” he admitted.

  “I bet they do exactly what you tell them to do. I mean, I would.” She nudged him with a gentle elbow to the ribs and a wink.

  Holden willed himself not to blush, willed the pulse in his veins not to increase at that brief contact, but that was like willing the sun not to rise.

  Say something smart, you idiot. Say something that will sweep her off her feet. This is the big leagues, and it’s your only shot to have what might be the most sought-after pussy in the entire city.

  He took a deep breath and exhaled, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  What. The hell. Was that?