I knew I should have stopped there. I was getting in way over my head. Really? Body shots with a complete stranger? Not only that, but a tattooed, pierced stranger that screamed recklessness? But I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward. I couldn’t keep my tongue from darting out and licking that salty trail, sucking his skin gently into my mouth, and causing him to groan. After I downed the shot of tequila, his flavor still hadn’t left my mouth. It coaxed me to cradle his face and crush my lips to his. The wedge of lime may have separated our mouths, but I distinctly felt Blaine’s soft lips and the warmth of his breath. I didn’t even bother to suck the lime at first. I just let my eyes close for a split second and enjoyed the intimate feeling. It was . . . incredible. Stupid and dangerous, yet incredible.

Remembering the task at hand, I gave the slice of citrus a suck, eliciting another groan from Blaine. Then I realized I was actually sucking his lip. His bottom lip, so soft and sweet, was in my mouth, and I had been running my tongue along it. I pulled away quickly, abandoning the lime and letting it fall to the floor between us. Neither one of us made a move to pick it up. There was too much . . . there. I don’t know what it was that crackled between us, but it was there. And it was confusing the hell out of me.

Blaine’s expression was still full of desire and question, making me believe that he was just as confused about what transpired. My lips burned and I wanted to feel that fire again immediately. The way he licked his lips signaled that he wanted the same.

“Woo hoo, cuz!” Craig sidled up, clapping Blaine on the back and breaking our trance. “Looks like you wanna be the meat in the sandwich tonight! You lucky sonofabitch!”

Blaine looked up at his cousin and blinked rapidly, as if he had been entranced for the past five minutes. Jumping from his chair with enough force to make it screech against the hardwood, his eyes darted between Angel and me before settling on my face. Then he . . . frowned. He frowned like I had just manipulated him and forced my tongue down his throat. Like he regretted the semi-kiss we just shared. I looked down at my last shot and threw it back, not even bothering with salt and lime. I don’t think I could ever use those accompaniments again.

“Um, uh, if there’s nothing else . . .” he stuttered, chewing that lip again. The very same lip that I had just sucked lime juice from. “Yeah, I’ll be at the bar if you need anything.” Then he turned and retreated back to safety, leaving us with his dim-witted cousin.

Plopping down in the chair that Blaine abandoned, Craig smiled brightly at us as if he were next in line. I rolled my eyes at him and looked to Angel who was wearing a devilish grin. I was beginning to think those were the only kinds of smiles she possessed.

“So, it’s CJ, right? Hi, I’m Angel Cassidy,” she announced with an air of arrogance that only Angel could pull off gracefully. She extended her hand to him and he received it eagerly.

“Yeah. Well, the name is Craig, but people been callin’ me CJ since I was a kid. Real good to meet ya, Angel. Real good. The name certainly fits.”

Angel held up her hands in warning before CJ could go any further. “Ugh, do not ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven, or if I have wings, or any other dumb ass pick-up lines.”

Tuning them out as they made small talk, I looked towards the bar, instantly locking eyes with Blaine who was staring intently. Several seconds ticked by before either of us could do anything but breathe. Finally, a bar patron grabbed his attention and stole his gaze from me. I was thankful and highly irritated, all wrapped into one.

“So CJ, what’s your cousin’s deal? Is he seeing anyone?” Angel asked, provoking me to whirl around and narrow my eyes at her.

Craig looked back towards the bar where Blaine was still helping a customer. “Who, B? Nah. He doesn’t have a girl. Not anymore. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Angel replied, darting her eyes to me. She was up to no good, which was usually the case. Before she could inquire if Blaine was a boxer or briefs guy, the older, bearded guy that served me earlier poked his head from behind a door a few yards away and summoned Craig to the back.

“I think it’s time to go,” I said, forcing myself not to look towards the bar.

“What? I haven’t had nearly enough to drink!” And with that, Angel waved directly towards the area I was trying to avoid.

Seconds later, Blaine was in front of us, his tattooed hands grasping the edge of the table. His presence brought it all back to me . . . his scent, his taste, the way his body was a work of art that I wanted to paint with my tongue. All the reasons why I most definitely should not speak to him again.

“Hey Blaine, can we get a couple more? And don’t forget to grab a shot for you too,” Angel winked.

“He can have mine,” I mumbled, refusing to look at him.

I felt a lone finger brush against my forehead, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. Then it traced the curve of my earlobe, making me shiver. His touch resumed the pesky pounding in my chest.

“Are you sure, Kami?” he asked with a husky voice. The same voice he used with me before as he described my eyes, my hair, my lips . . . and what should be done to them.

Unable to string a sentence together, I simply nodded. Blaine made no move to leave. He kept touching me, like feeling my skin was the most natural thing in the world to him. Slowly, he leaned down to me, coming in so close that his scent of mint and spice filled my nostrils. We were almost eye-level, and I couldn’t do more than hold my breath with anticipation. I should have been scared by his touch. I should have stopped him before he moved any closer into my personal space. But I just . . . couldn’t.

“Hey, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he said just above a whisper.

“Pretend?” I exhaled, the word coming out in a rush. What does he know of my pretending? There’s no way I could be that transparent. I’d had years of practice.

“Yeah,” he grinned crookedly. “CJ’s gone. You can stop pretending . . . that you girls are together. That you’re gay.”

“Excuse me?” Angel piped up, her voice laced with annoyance. “What makes you think that we’re pretending to be gay?”

Blaine’s eyes darted to Angel for a split second, and he shook his head lightly. “Not you.” Then his chocolate brown gaze was back on me, sweeping over every inch of my face. It was like he was studying every feature, trying to unveil some big mystery. “Her. She’s pretending.”

“How do you know I’m not a lesbian too?” I asked. The question was meant to come out with a trace of attitude, but it ended up being breathy and light.

As if the sound of my betraying voice amused him, Blaine flashed that boyish grin. My tenacity was going . . . going. . . . gone.

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re feeling the same thing I’m feeling right now.”

Then he did something that had me yanking my purse open, throwing down a twenty, and high-tailing it out of there in 3.5 seconds.

He took off his worn cap and ran a hand through his hair, the light brown locks settling into perfectly messy “just-fucked” hair. Hair I wanted to grab and tug while his tongue slid against mine. Hair that I wanted to feel tickling my sensitive areas while he worked me over with that metal-studded tongue.