Going All The Way

Jason leaned back in the booth, his fingers wrapped loosely around his glass of scotch, as the woman from the bar made her way toward him. He’d noticed her earlier—the way she laughed too easily, the confidence in her stride. She had that kind of presence, the kind that turned heads without trying. Wavy auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders, catching the dim glow of the bar lights, and her body—well, her body was made for sin. Painted-on jeans. A low-cut top that hinted at more than it revealed. And those green eyes—sharp, assessing, with just enough challenge to make his pulse tick up a notch.
She stopped beside his booth, one hip cocked, her lips curling into something between a smirk and an invitation.
“Anyone sitting here?”
He didn’t bother playing coy. Instead, he shifted deeper into the booth, stretching his arm across the back of the seat, and gestured beside him. “You are, darling.”
Her lips twitched. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He took a slow sip of scotch, letting the warmth settle in his chest before he answered. “You came to me, sweetheart. Seems like things are looking up.”
The corner of her mouth lifted as she slid in next to him, her thigh pressing against his. Even through denim, the contact sent heat licking up his spine, a stark reminder that he’d spent too much time alone, too much time pretending he didn’t need this.
Then again, tonight was his last night of freedom. Tomorrow, he signed his soul away—his career, his name, his goddamn pride—all neatly packaged in a contract he hated. But tonight? Tonight, he could take what he wanted.
Or, at least, he thought he could.
Because before he could do anything about the stunning woman pressing up against him, a second woman slid into the booth on his other side. Blonde, blue-eyed, and radiating irritation.
Shit.
It had been a while since he’d had two women in his orbit, but judging by the daggers the blonde was shooting him, this wasn’t that kind of party.
The redhead—Stacia, apparently—let out a sigh and cast her friend a look that hovered between exasperation and amusement. “Jason, meet Sophie. Sophie, meet Jason. Try not to bite him.”
Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “No promises.”
He huffed out a laugh, glancing between them. “So, what’s the deal? You travel in pairs? Some kind of bodyguard situation?”
“Something like that,” Sophie muttered, arms crossed.
Stacia ignored her. Instead, she turned to him, extending a hand like they were about to discuss business instead of flirt. “Stacia.”
He took it, shaking once, noting the contrast—soft fingers, firm grip. “Jason. So what’s a gorgeous woman like you doing in a place like this?”
Her lips parted like she might say something else, but Sophie made a sound of disgust. “Oh, come on. ‘So what’s a gorgeous woman like you doing in a place like this?’ That’s what you’re going with?”
Jason grinned. “Hey, don’t knock the classics.”
Stacia laughed, and something unfamiliar tugged in his chest. Amusement? Actual enjoyment? Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt either.
“You’re ignoring her, right?” Stacia asked, tilting her head toward Sophie.
“Completely,” he confirmed, his fingers drifting up to play with a strand of her hair. He didn’t miss the way she shivered, the way she instinctively leaned into the touch.
Sophie, however, was immune to charm. “I’m serious. You hurt her, and I will make your life hell.”
Jason barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “She looks like she can handle herself.”
“She can,” Sophie shot back. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t intervene if necessary.”
“Jesus, Sophie,” Stacia muttered, a tinge of red coloring her cheeks. “I don’t need a chaperone.”
“You need someone looking out for you,” Sophie countered.
Jason took another sip of his drink, watching the exchange with fascination. Whatever had brought Stacia here tonight, it clearly had her friend on edge.
A moment later, Sophie’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and muttered a curse under her breath.
“Great. I have to go.”
Jason fought a grin. “Aw, and just when we were bonding.”
Sophie shot him a glare hot enough to melt steel. Then, turning to Stacia, she hesitated. “You good?”
Stacia leaned into Jason’s side, her cheek brushing against his shoulder. “Just about.”
Sophie snorted. “Remember, I have your picture.”
She slid out of the booth, making sure to smack him with her bag on the way out. Jason smothered a chuckle as she disappeared into the crowd.
“She’s a little protective,” Stacia admitted, picking up her drink.
“A little?” He arched a brow. “She nearly patted me down for weapons.”
She grinned. “She means well.”
“And yet, you came over here anyway,” he mused.
“I did.”
His curiosity flared. “Why?”
She traced the rim of her glass, her expression turning thoughtful. “It’s been a rough year. I’ve spent too much time being the responsible one, putting everyone else first. Tonight, I just wanted… something different. Something fun.”
“And you think I’m fun?”
She met his gaze, something hot and knowing flickering in her eyes. “I think you could be.”
Arousal burned low in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. His life was a goddamn disaster, his future a cage, but Stacia? She was offering something simple. No promises. No expectations. Just heat and distraction.
It was tempting as hell.
But he still had to ask. “You looking for a night of bad decisions, sweetheart?”
She tilted her head, studying him. Then, with a slow, deliberate smile, she leaned in, her breath warm against his jaw. “I prefer to think of it as seizing the moment.”
He huffed out a laugh, then downed the rest of his scotch. What the hell.
"Dinner, Miss Stacia?"