Shaken Read Online Free Page B

least three glasses that he’d counted, not to mention the wine he’d sent over earlier. No way in hell would he send her out tipsy into the wilds of a Friday night. Not on his watch.
    “I have nowhere else to be, and, yes, I’m sure I haven’t had near enough.”
    The husky words poured through him. It would be awesome if she meant she hadn't had enough of him, but he couldn’t let his brain go there even if his cock warmed to the thought and strained against his zipper.
    “One glass of wine for the lady it is.” He bowed his head teasingly, and her laughter bubbled, filling the air with a quiet joy and wrapping around him like an embrace.
    She could have the whole damn bottle for free with that laugh, but he took care to pour her only a half glass. He laid out a cocktail napkin and set the glass down, but her fingers trapped his hand with one light, casual touch of her nails on his skin. A myriad of sexually explicit images roared through his mind and began to gnaw on his good intentions.
    “I don’t suppose you have time to talk tonight?”
    Tony checked the bar’s customers and the pair of businessmen settling in at the horseshoe’s curve. They were in his section. His heart punched his ribs. “Let me get their drinks, and I’ll be right back here with you.”
    “I can’t wait.” The gentle stroke of her nails along his skin left a wave of heat and tingles in their wake. She picked up the wine glass and took a very deliberate sip, all the while holding his eyes captive.
    Oh, hell. I am not imagining it.
    She is flirting with me.
    Relief poured through his restraint, and his desire bucked. “Hold that thought.” With more verve than he’d felt in months, he double-timed it to get the customers’ orders, but every ounce of his awareness seemed focused on his sexy little accountant watching him from her perch.
    Unfortunately, the nine o’clock rush hit as the migratory clubbers moved down the Midtown line. Dancers came from the club downstairs to eat, late evening daters strolled in from their museum and theater runs, while still more businessmen and women poured up the stairs, on missions to whet their weekend whistles.
    The orders had him hopping, but, when he cast Zip an apologetic look, her cheery expression didn’t falter, and she gave him a thumbs up. She didn’t seem to mind waiting, but he’d never rushed through a series of mixed drinks so fast in all his years of tending bar. He served tray after tray of mojitos, margaritas, and piña coladas.
    Jerry strolled in at nine-thirty, and Tony put him to work on the loop of the horseshoe before he detoured over to Zip and her half-drunk glass of wine. She sat daintily on the stool, iPad open. At his approach, she lifted her head and met his gaze with a frank welcome. His heart did another fist bump with his ribs.
    “Thanks for waiting,” he murmured. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d abandoned him. Friday nights were just too damn busy for a great conversation, and he had at least two-and-a-half hours of shift left.
    “My pleasure.” She thumbed the iPad dark, closing down whatever she’d been reading. The flush in her cheeks blended with the freckles on her nose and he longed to lean closer to see if he could count them against the pale pink blush.
    “So, what did you want to talk about?”
    “You.” She gave his hopes a fresh burst of hot air, elevating them. “And, hopefully, me.”
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    Zip couldn’t focus on the book in front of her, not when the characters were busy torturing each other with sexual pleasure and pushing the boundaries of how many caresses it took to get to the center of their orgasms. Pretending to read did allow her to watch Tony work. Stoked on liquid courage, she didn’t hesitate to admit to the delicious pressure building between her thighs.
    Without a doubt.
    The Magic 8 Ball answered nearly every inquiry she’d made about Tony with a without a doubt . Coaxed and cajoled by her