Drew

Forget.

All I wanted to do was forget. So far, I was on the right track.

“Hit me up sexy!” I hollered at the hot barman and slipped onto the padded stool.

“You got it gorgeous!” he winked and started to prepare the lethal concoction before setting it before me like a gift.

“Keep them coming,” I proclaimed, lifting the drink in a toast. Picking up the cocktail glass, I took an indulgent swallow and winced as the burning liquid slid down my throat and spread across my chest. This was my third, but I wasn’t feeling the kick yet.

I had to forget that my fiancé, the man I loved more than the very air that I breathed, broke off our engagement when I had miscarried our precious little baby just a few days after I lost both my parents in a mysterious plane crash. We had been trying for so long to get pregnant when the miracle happened, but tragedy struck suddenly and now the joy we’d once shared had turned into deep sadness.

He blamed me.

Said I worked too hard and went over the top grieving for my foster parents. He didn’t understand how I could mourn for them when they weren’t even my biological parents. Even after our OB told him that the impact of losing my parents couldn’t have been easy, he chose to pin it on me. Insisted that she was just being unnecessarily kind, that the truth was clear as day.

And maybe he was right…

The awful guilt consumed me like a wild fire. Every night I cried myself to sleep. I would never admit it to him-or anyone-but I felt solely responsible. Maybe I should have taken it easy as the doctor advised-I knew I was pushing myself too hard but that’s just who I am. I am a workaholic. Then again, an attorney’s job is never done.

Aaron had broken our engagement along with my heart. It was easy to say the loss of our baby was the defining moment but, if I’m being honest, there was a whole lot of other reasons that didn’t even make sense.

‘You’re too controlling, Drew.’

‘You always make me feel less of a man, Drew.’

‘I’m not important enough to you, Drew. Your job always comes first.’

‘You’re too ambitious, Drew.’

“You are the reason I don’t have a child, Drew. You robbed me of that. I will never forgive you…’

I had tried so hard to be everything he wanted me to be.

I stopped cutting my hair because he hated me in short hair. Changed my wardrobe to a more conservative look. Cut out the friends he didn’t like. Passed up the partnership opportunity at the law firm I worked for because he said I was taking on too much. Stopped working late and on weekends because he complained he never saw me as much. Cut out drinking wine at dinner because he said I was turning into an alcoholic. I even turned vegetarian because I thought it would please him.

It didn’t.

Nothing did.

It was all for nothing.

I wasted four years of my life for nothing.

“Let me buy you a drink?” A tall well-dressed guy sidled up to me, looking at me like a zoo animal.

“No thanks,” I said and stiffened as his hand found my waist.

“Then dance with me?” The attractive blonde coaxed, creating an attractive dimple at the corner of his mouth. He was easy on the eyes and had a body of a football player. There was no harm in testing the waters if I wanted to get lucky tonight.

“Why not?”

Tonight was all about me.

Tonight, I was the college girl who was always the life of the party. I was wild and wicked Drew. Once again, I was the fun Drew that my friends loved and missed.

The classy nightclub had a lively atmosphere, the music varying from ambient electro, hip-hop and pop, which was just what the doctor ordered. No sappy, mushy songs for me today. I had bribed the DJ to play all the songs on the playlist I had given him. The barman’s instructions were just as easy: keep them coming. I wasn’t messing around when I told my friends tonight was all about me.

I was in control.

Tonight’s plan wasn’t complicated.

Get drunk. Dance. Get laid.

In that particular order.

Red, green and blue laser lights flashed over the crowd as sweaty bodies danced to up-tempo music on the dancefloor. Waitresses dressed as skimpily as I was weaved through the crowd skillfully balancing trays of drinks or shooters that glowed under the ultra-violet disco lights. My sexy mini-dress molded to my soft, firm curves like a second skin, the neckline plunging, revealing the cleavage of my full breasts. My hair, like my mood, was wild, loose and uninhibited, the curls cascading down my smooth, bare back. Not to trump my own horn but, I was the hottest girl in the place and I reveled in it.

The guys in the club were falling over each other to talk to me and I was thriving on it, like rain in a desert. All except for one.

He looked out of place sitting at the bar in his dark, tightfitting fashion forward, designer suit. The fabric clung to his body, the sharp lines forming a stylish silhouette. His strong profile was built for pleasuring a woman, and a healthy olive tan suggested an outdoor hobby or hours spent in the gym. His rich, tousled onyx hair showcased the high-top fade fauxhawk, gleamed under the dim lights, begging to be touched.

His jacket was hanging behind the stool, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal tanned muscular forearms. A rugged jawline shaded by a few days' growth, left me fantasizing what it would feel like on my soft skin. He radiated power that I’m sure everyone in this place could feel.

Tousled, rich, ink black hair, short on the sides and longer on top, he was an incredibly good looking specimen. Was he Spanish? Italian? I couldn’t tell. But the attorney in me was itching to unravel the mysterious, aloof stranger.

“Hit me again, sexy!” I slammed the empty glass on the counter and even that didn’t get his coveted attention. I wasn’t the only woman that had noticed the attractive guy with the brooding golden eyes. Some were daring enough to approach him and his terse one-word answers and stiff back sent them scurrying away.

“We’re about to close for the night,” the barman informed. “Will that be all for tonight?”

“Maybe…” My words dragged and I missed my balance as I tried to hop on the stool. Losing my footing, I staggered back and crashed into a rock solid chest.

“Watch it, stellina…” he drawled in his accented English, grabbing my hips to keep us both from toppling over.

“I’m so sorry!” I gasped, deeply mortified, my hands instinctively reached out and clutched his taut thighs. “Gosh! Sorry!” I clenched my fists and tried to back away but he held fast.

“Are you?” He held me close with one arm while the other slid up my side, following the curve of my hips and waist. “Isn’t this what you wanted?" Burying his face in my hair, he inhaled deeply. “You in my arms…me touching you just like this…” He whispered in a soft deep voice, his fingers caressing my arms, the sensual touch increasing my pulse. “Well played, cara.”

My molten silver eyes flared as I swirled around and glared at him. “You’re sadly mistaken, sir!”

He leaned back in his chair crossing his arms against his broad chest, displaying an air of both at ease and like he was ready to pounce. “The only thing sad is the way you’re flaunting yourself like a ripe, juicy fruit on market day.” His liquid eyes were critically assessing, his large frame still imposing. “I’m willing to buy whatever you’re selling…” his suggestive gaze roved up and down my curves. “It’s a pity I don’t take advantage of drunk, careless donne sciolta.”

Oh no, he didn’t! He did not just imply that I was a woman of loose morals?!!

“How dare you! You smug-” he grasped my wrist before it met his arrogant face, but I used the other. The slap echoed over the pulsing music.

My face flushed and he covered the space between us, resting his hands on my thighs as he pushed my hips against the counter. “Now I’m really turned on, my piccolo spuntino,” he growled from low in his chest, yanking me against him, his lips crushing mine in a punishing kiss.

The man just called me his little snack and here I was, latching onto him like a newborn pup on its mother’s breast. I couldn’t help myself. His kiss was making me warm from the inside out. I had never been kissed like this. It was so possessing. So consuming. So hot.

Who could resist the way his skilled tongue was plundering my mouth? It’s like he was branding me. Owning me. Claiming me as his. Desire flew through me, hot and fast like the strange energy running between us. I gave in to the ardent impulse, knowing that wherever it led, I could count on an utterly earth shattering experience. His warm lips kissed their way down my neck and across my shoulder. A slow sensual smile teased his full lips, making me shiver.

“Your car or mine?” Swirling hooded eyes framed by thick black lashes any model would kill for, stared down at me. Our breathing ragged from the tonsil hockey and my head was spinning.

“C-car??” A smack over the head was needed to clear my befuddled brain.

“I don’t know about you but, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the nearest bed, cara.” His predatory gaze made my heart race. “But since you can’t seem to decide, come with me…”