Hook Me (6 page)

“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.

Chapter 5

“I don’t condone violence.” The words fell from my lips in a flat tone even as my body still vibrated from his touch.

Traitor.

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.

Pulling my thumb from my lips I replied, “I’m just getting started, hot stuff.”

He backed away and stared at me before giving me a giant smile. “I may have met my match with you, Mia.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I couldn’t help but smile. I forgot how much fun it could be to flirt with someone, especially when they were handsome and a smooth talker.

He made it easy and made me feel sexy.

At work I never felt sexy wearing my drab scrubs, knee length lab coat, and my hair up in a ponytail. I looked half dead by the time my shift ended at the hospital.

“Shot?” he asked.

“I’ve given thousands,” I replied, laughing at my hospital humor.

“You’re difficult, Mia.” He eyed me as he fiddled with the beer.

“You have no idea, Michael.” I laughed, wanting to throw myself at him and give in to any wild sexual ideas he currently had, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be so reckless. “What do you have in mind?”

He looked me straight in the eye and didn’t crack a smile. “Blue balls.”

“Seems like a personal problem. I could write you a prescription for something, if you’d like.”

“Um, fuck no to a prescription, but I’m sure it’s nothing you couldn’t fix.” He smirked. “Wanna help me out?”

I leaned forward, my lips almost touching his I said, “Usually when someone walks in with an erection that won’t subside, we drain the fluid with a very large needle. I’m a pro. Interested in seeing my skills first hand?”

His mouth hung open as he gaped. “That’s just inhumane. I mean Jesus, Mia, how could you do that to another human being?” He stepped back, shaking his head.

“Better than it having to be amputated from lack of circulation. So what did you want to drink again?” I smiled until my cheek muscles ached. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled or laughed as much as I had with him tonight.

“Lemon Drop. Let’s skip the Blue Balls,” he said swallowing hard, probably still reeling from the thought of the long needle in his dick.

“Good choice and they’re my favorite.”

“I gotcha.” He looked away and motioned to the bartender.

I studied him as he ordered our drinks. Without talking to him I’d think he was just another meathead muscle guy without the ability to think quickly and hold a witty conversation, but I would’ve been dead wrong.

Michael was a conundrum to me – brains, brawn, and beauty. His eyes moved in my direction for a moment, but his attention was drawn away from me by the clinking of the glasses on the bar.

Grinning, he slid the clear liquid in front of me. “What shall we drink to?” he asked as he placed the sugar soaked lemons in between us.

“To blue balls?” I asked, holding up the shot glass.

“Fuck that shit. Don’t ever mention that to me again,” he said, picking up his glass. “To new beginnings.” He raised his glass and tapped it against mine.

Warmth cascaded throughout my body before the liquid ever touched my lips. I didn’t want to read into his words and feel like a fool, but the thought of getting to know this sexy as hell man made my toes curl. “Cheers.”

Watching him over the rim, he stared at me, never wavering, and winked as the liquid slid down my throat. It burned for a moment and I winced from the vodka before I slammed the glass down. I reached for the lemon, needing something to cover the taste of the vodka. He was one step ahead of me and already had the lemon in his hand holding it.

I blinked slowly. The martini and shot coursing through my system was already starting to cloud my vision. Opening my lips, I stuck out my tongue and waited for him to place the lemon on it.

I closed my lips around his fingers as the sugar made my mouth water. Running my tongue across the coarse pads of his fingers, I sucked the juice and swallowed. His eyes narrowed as he watched my mouth with parted lips.

I had him right where I wanted him. Two could play games.

“Fuck me,” he muttered and looked away as I opened my lips allowing his fingers to slide out.

“You okay? You look a little off.” I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hide my laughter.

He leaned in, brushing the hair away from my shoulder. “If you keep that shit up I’m going to find another way to occupy your mouth.”

I’d like to say it was the alcohol that caused him to have that effect on me, but I’d be lying. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, bringing his lips within centimeters of mine. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me. Let’s not play games here, Mia.” He searched my eyes.

I could feel his warm breath against my lips and my heart pounded in my chest faster than the rhythm of the music. Looking into his eyes without blinking, I melted against him. “Who said I’m playing, Michael.”

I wanted him to kiss me.

He inched close, eyes locked with mine, as I placed my hand against his chest. The rapid tattoo of his heart thumped against my palm matching the beat of my mine.

Leaning forward, I closed my eyes, and held my breath. Butterflies filled my stomach and my legs trembled. The warmth of his lips sent shivers down my body.

The noise around us disappeared as he kissed me. Nothing else seemed to exist except him and me.