“Oh really?”
“If reading a newspaper takes priority over having sex, then clearly you’ve never had your world rocked.”
“I don’t need any rocking in my world. I get motion sickness.” She laced up her sneakers, then headed for the door.
He trailed after her. “Fine, I’ll let this go. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” A rush of relief flooded her belly. Thank God. Fighting off Seth’s advances the past few months had been much harder than she’d ever admit.
“Don’t look so happy.” He smirked. “I meant I’d let it go for tonight.”
Crap. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
Seth blocked her path before she could open the door, running a hand through his messy hair. His hair was short, but definitely not the military cut every man in San Diego seemed to have. Black locks often fell onto his forehead and curled behind his ears, and she couldn’t count the number of times her fingers had tingled with the urge to smooth back those unruly strands.
“When’s your next shift?” he asked.
“Monday.”
“Eight to close?”
It didn’t surprise her that he knew the exact time of her shift. God knew he came to the club often enough.
“Hey, I have an idea,” she said with a big fake smile. “Maybe you can go somewhere else on Monday. The Tavern or the Sand Bar, maybe Hot Zone—ooh, there’s this new club on 4th that you might like. I heard it attracts a lot of loose young women looking for a good time…”
When she flashed him a how-awesome-is-that look, he simply laughed it off. “I’m not looking for a random lay. Trust me, if I wanted to get laid?” He lowered his voice to a smoky pitch and snapped his fingers. “I could get laid just like that. But see, that’s not what I’m after.”
A sigh lodged in her chest. “What are you after, Seth?”
“You.”
Equal parts arousal and irritation pleaded for her attention. Ignoring both, she released her breath and crossed her arms over her chest. Seth’s gaze immediately rested on her cle**age, more pronounced now that her pose was pushing her br**sts up. She promptly let her arms dangle to her sides.
“I don’t have time to play games with you,” she muttered. “I have too much on my plate at the moment, and even if I wasn’t busy, I still wouldn’t say yes. I’m a mother, first and foremost. My kids are my life.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to put the rugrats up for adoption, Miranda.”
“No, you’re just asking me to pretend they don’t exist and launch myself into some whirlwind sexual affair with you. How will that even work, Seth? You’re going to sneak into my apartment after I tuck Sophie and Jason in and ravish me while they’re sleeping next door? You’ll pay for a babysitter while you and I go to some sleazy motel?” She shook her head. “For the millionth time, I’m not interested.”
He rewarded her speech with his trademark smirk. “Has anyone ever told you that you look sexy when you lie?”
“What does that even mean?” she mumbled. “Whatever. Don’t answer. In fact, don’t say another word.”
She brushed past him and yanked on the door handle. Out in the hall, the drum and bass bounced off the walls and vibrated beneath her feet. Perching her hands on her hips, she turned to scowl at Seth.
“I’m serious. Quit coming here every night. Quit hitting on me. Quit acting like being my former boss’s son gives you some kind of say in my life.”
As usual, he seemed unfazed by the rejection. Stepping closer, he brought those tempting lips to her ear again, his hot breath fanning over her skin. “See you Monday night, Miranda.”
“Seth—”
Holy crap, had he just licked the shell of her ear? He had. And now his lips were closing over her earlobe.
A jolt of pure desire hit her hard and fast. Before she could lay into him for his sheer presumption, he was moving away.
“You’ve got my cell number,” he reminded her. “Call me when you’re ready.”
When. Not if.
Presumptuous jerk.
As her heart pounded up a storm in her chest, she watched Seth stride off, angry with herself for noticing how incredible his ass looked in those black jeans. Angry at him for walking away without once looking back, while she was standing there like a slack-jawed moron, unable to take her eyes off him.
“Who was that?” The breathy female voice came from the long line in front of the ladies’ room.
Sighing, Miranda met the eyes of a young blonde in a gold micromini and black halter top. “That was our resident troublemaker.”
The blonde grinned. “My kind of trouble. I’d trade my firstborn for even ten minutes with that hottie.”
A few of the other women in line overheard the remark and laughed, but Miranda only managed a weak smile. Being around Seth Masterson was utterly exhausting. She was forever on guard, waiting for his next seductive ambush, steeling herself against the sexual magnetism he possessed in spades.
You have a problem, Miranda Rose Breslin.
God, she totally did, didn’t she? Why was she always attracted to bad boys? Those kinds of men were all well and good in the movies, but in real life, you had a better chance of teaching a dog to send an email than taming a bad boy.
She needed to do something about this silly schoolgirl attraction, pronto. Maybe she ought to lock herself in her bedroom tonight and put her vibrator to good use. A few orgasms and she’d be thinking, Seth who?