“Can I buy you a drink, Mia?” I needed to do something to break the awkwardness and my inability to stop saying stupid shit in front of her.
Her eyes returned to mine, the corner of her mouth turned up before she answered. “Sure, Michael.”
I help my hand out, letting her walk in front of me. Her hips swayed as she sauntered to the bar. I wanted to smack her ass for the wicked shit it did to my cock.
Leaning against the bar, shoulder to shoulder, I motioned for the bartender. “What’ll it be? Pick your poison.”
I expected her to say she wanted a girlie drink, something that required an umbrella, but I would’ve been dead fucking wrong.
“Dirty martini, please. Straight up with extra olives.”
The bartender approached, giving Mia the once over.
It took everything in me not to punch his fucking lights out as he lingered a little too long on her chest.
“What can I get you?” he asked her without looking in my direction.
“Another beer and a dirty martini straight up with extra olives for the lady,” I said without caring who he asked.
I wanted to take the rag he had in his hand and stuff it down his throat. He gave me a sour face before leaving us. I threw a twenty on the bar trying to avoid as much contact between him and Mia as possible.
Mia began to laugh as he walked away. “Are you two going to have a pissing match next?”
Her laughter became infectious.
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
“Used to being the center of attention?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow and a grin.
“No. Are you clueless to the way he just eye raped you, woman?”
Her grin turned into a giant smile. “He’s a man. It’s what you all do.”
“Glad you think so highly of us.” I leveled my gaze and grabbed the beer that had been left for me.
“How would you describe how you were looking at me on the dance floor?” She challenged.
“I wasn’t eye raping you, sweetheart.”
“Call it what you want. Your eyes told a different story, Michael”
“What’d they say?”
“Something along the lines of, you and me and a little tryst in the bathroom stall.”
She’s a feisty little thing.
“You wouldn’t go home with me if I asked?”
She coughed almost spitting out her drink. “No, not even after five of these babies,” she said as she held up her glass before taking another sip.
“I like a challenge. I don’t like to lose either.”
She smiled the rim of her glass. “I’ve never been called a quitter.”
I never liked easy.
My life had been filled with hard choices and challenges that kept me moving to bigger and better things.
Everything came easy to my family. We grew up with money, not the kind that Paris Hilton had causing her to turn into a fucking train wreck, but my parents made sure we never wanted for anything.
“What do you do, Mia? What makes you tick besides kneeing a man in the balls?”
She placed her glass on the bar and twirled it in her fingers. “I’m in medicine.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth. Her lips were full and red from the lip-gloss or whatever shit she had coating them. I wanted to know if it tasted like strawberry.
“You’re a nurse?” I felt like I’d had to pull information out of her.
She turned toward me with her mouth set in a firm line. “No. I’m a doctor.”
I whistled, being thoroughly impressed by the statement.
Dr. Mia was sexy as hell and had a brain to match. “Impressive. What kind?”
“I work in the Emergency Room at County.”
“Wow, that’s some hard shit. Wait, that’s where I know you from.” Her sassy mouth, beautiful looks, and sparkling hazel eyes made it all click when she said County Hospital ER.
“You do?” Her brows shot up as her eyes grew wide. “I hope it wasn’t for anything too horrible.”
“Cracked ribs a couple months back. You called me a cocky bastard I believe,” I said, smiling as I remembered her playfulness.
The corner of her mouth twitched as she titled her head. “Ah, it’s all coming back to me now. I knew I met you before. Sorry I was mean to you.” She blushed.
“Nah, I liked it when you called me that. You said you’d go to dinner with me and I’m holding you to your word.”
Her brows knitted together as her eyes moved around my face. “I don’t remember it that way. If memory serves me right, I told you no.”
“You were supposed to come back after the x-ray but you sent in some schmuck instead. You blew me off.”
She snickered as her eyes flickered to her drink. “Michael, I don’t remember blowing you off. It gets hectic and another patient probably needed my attention more than you.”
“I don’t envy you, Doc. You work a stressful job. I couldn’t do it.”
“Some days are harder than others.” A flash of sadness splashed across her face before quickly disappearing. “It has its rewards too.”
“I give you a lot of credit. To hold someone’s life in your hands is some heavy shit and a lot of responsibility.”
“Some days I question my sanity. I wonder why I didn’t settle for a nice family practice with an office treating the flu, but I’d probably grow bored quickly.”
“Ah, you like the rush,” I said, rubbing my chin and studying her body language.
“Yeah, I guess I do. What do you do, Michael besides fighting?”
“Ah, you remember me now. I’m part-owner of a tattoo shop where I pierce the willing, but my true love is fighting.”
“I spend my nights repairing damage that people like you inflict.” I saw the flash of sadness again before it disappeared.
That wasn’t the reaction I expected. “I never do anything that isn’t asked of me whether it’s in the shop or the cage. Which one are we talking about here?”
“The fighting.” Her face hadn’t changed.
Most women cooed when they find out, but Mia, nothing.
“I don’t street fight – cage matches MMA style. They’re professional. I have a big one coming up.” I smiled and felt proud to be able to utter those words, but Mia still didn’t seem impressed with her lips set in a firm line as she brought the martini glass to her lips.
“Still, it’s the opposite of my job. I help people and heal them and you injure them. Maybe they spend more time injuring you. I don’t know.” She cocked her eyebrow at me and took a sip.
“Don’t be silly, woman. It’s a job. We all go into the cage knowing someone isn’t coming out looking as pretty as they did when they went in. All injuries heal. And wait a minute here… you just injured the hell out of that douchebag. He’ll probably never be able to have children because of that wicked knee.”
“Fighting for money is barbaric.” She shook her head but I didn’t buy her distaste for the sport. “What I did was self-preservation. There’s a difference.” She looked me straight in the eye and didn’t blink.
A bullshitter could smell another bullshitter a mile away.
“Liar.” I brushed my fingers against her arm and she shivered with the contact.
Maybe she didn’t like what I did, but I could tell it turned her on.
She didn’t smile, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. Her body responded to mine… no matter how hard she tried to deny it.
“I don’t condone violence.” The words fell from my lips in a flat tone even as my body still vibrated from his touch.
My body betrayed me when Michael touched me. I tried to play it cool.
“Not buying it.” He lifted the beer to his lips and took a sip.
I stared at them as they hugged the rim of the glass.
I wanted to smack the cocky grin off his face. His rich brown eyes sparkled and were filled with mischief as
he called me a liar. His words were true no matter how hard I wanted to deny them. Michael was pure man – strong, sexy, and self-confident.
“Can we agree to disagree?” I asked, pretending not to look at his mouth.
He licked the beer from his lips. I had the overwhelming urge to use my tongue to capture the few drops of liquid still left behind. “Want a taste?” he asked with a hearty laugh as he tipped the beer in my direction.
I could feel the blush as it crept up my neck. I wanted to avoid his eyes but couldn’t give him the satisfaction. I always believed in fighting fire with fire.
“You missed a little,” I said before I reached up and used my thumb to wipe the few drops on his lips.
His eyes stayed locked with mine as I touched his soft flesh, slowing dragging my fingers from across.
I placed my thumb in my mouth, closing my lips around it.
He leaned in close enough for me to smell the musky cologne on his neck. “You’re wicked,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.