Shaken Read Online Free

grin had been. The attorney rolled out next, arm in arm with the artist, and they both gave him the same wide grins. His insides tightened at the almost predatory cheer lighting their faces. Tiffany swept by their table and picked up their check. She paused while the ladies spoke to her, then lifted the flowers. Tony frowned.
    The white roses had been his idea when Coveted’s owner, Daniel, mentioned the women had been regulars for five years. He and the other bartenders tossed in the money together, because, like Tony, they all adored the women, who marked the end of the weekday ho-hum and signaled the beginning of a great weekend.
    Tiffany delivered the roses to the quiet end of his side of the horseshoe-shaped bar. The sexy little accountant—Zip and, damn, if he didn’t like her name—slid out of the booth and shimmied to fix her skirt. His dick twitched at the way the linen framed her heart-shaped ass before the skirt flared and disguised the sweet cheeks.
    The advertising guru—Julie, Gemstone, something—stood and tugged Zip’s bags from the booth and handed them over. The accountant’s bags. Better not to think of Zip by her name. So much better not to. Ms. Advertising bobbed her head three times, and her mouth never stopped moving.
    Tony turned and forced himself to start wiping down the counters, but he watched the unusual conversation in the mirror. Encouragement flashed through the brunette’s face, and she pointed to the bar twice, in half-formed gestures that Zip waved off. Curiosity nibbled at his insides when she let off a half-exasperated, half-amused laugh and bid her friend good-bye.
    But, instead of following the path of all the other ladies, including the sassy brunette, Zip headed straight for the bar. Her bulky backpack and laptop case bounced lightly with every step.
    Tony couldn’t ignore her or the parted lips of her curving smile even if he’d wanted to. When she settled on a bar stool and kept her attention on him, his dick twitched again, and he frowned. Get it together, Giordano. She’s probably waiting for a date.
    Anger fisted in his gut, and he slowed his wiping to a more deliberate measure. So what if she has a date? Out of your league, remember? Not quite sure toward whom he targeted that mental repudiation, himself or his cock, he concentrated on getting his mind back on work. He’d loved everything about Zip since meeting her his first night on the job. She’d met his gaze, said hello, taken the time to learn his name, and earned a firm spot in his affections.
    It didn’t hurt that she’d come packaged in an uptight professional dress that begged him to peel it off and discover the tempestuous woman he’d seen in her eyes. When they’d met, he definitely had not been on the market, and the act of wanting—of even being interested—left him guilty. So he’d worked on it.
    He didn’t look.
    Except that night, when their eyes met, awareness of her rolled over him like a lazy, summer storm, igniting a wild cacophony of wants and needs.
    “Hey, Tony.” Her hot-fudge-on-cold-ice-cream voice melted him. Turning, he didn’t bother to disguise his pleasure at her greeting. Everything about the woman was sinful and decadent.
    “Evening, Zip.” Damn, he loved her name. He tried not to think about it because it conjured all kinds of delicious ideas—like her fingers on his zipper or the sound of the zipper on her dress letting go.
    “How you doing tonight?” She propped her bags on the stool next to her. The sway of her body to the right telegraphed the motion of her crossing her legs. It was a damn pity he couldn’t see. Despite the noise in the lounge, he swore he heard the sound of her skirt rasping against her stockings.
    Head in the game, Giordano. But he ignored the angelic warning of his conscience and feasted his attention on her. From the wispy curls of her hair to the smattering of freckles on her pale nose—the perfect picture of the girl next door.
    And her