“I doubt that,” he laughed. They talked about sports for the next half hour and Antonia leaned forward, intent on her argument when he challenged her opinion about the Washington Capitals, the regional ice hockey team. They sparred back and forth, pulling out statistics on each of the players to defend their positions but neither gave in.
Antonia suddenly realized that she was smiling and laughing too much. He was a friend of Sal’s and that meant danger. She had to get out of there quickly. “Thanks for the beer. I have to go now,” she said and stood up.
“Wait, are you going to be okay?” he asked, grabbing her arm as she tried to turn and leave.
All of Antonia’s bravado deserted her when he touched her arm with gentle pressure. He was too handsome, too tall, and definitely too sexy. His dark eyes looking down at her with concern completely threw her off balance.
“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him through her dark lashes.
“You don’t seem okay,” he said, his voice turning husky. Antonia licked her lips and stared at his mouth. She wondered how he kissed -- if it was soft and gentle or firm and aggressive.
“I’ll be fine,” she choked out.
“Antonia…” he said softly, as if her name were a caress.
Antonia groaned. She had to get out of here or she’d lose herself in his gaze. She forced her eyes to look away from his. But her eyes were caught on his broad shoulders. Her mind still would not behave. She wondered what his chest was like, if it was as muscular as it seemed underneath the starched cotton shirt and conservative, silk tie.
“I...I have to go,” she said and tried to take a step away. But her feet wouldn’t move. Looking up at him one more time was a mistake.
Slowly, he leaned down and his mouth gently touched her lips. All her thoughts completely deserted her. It was tentative at first. But when she didn’t pull away, he took her other arm and pulled her forward, deepening the kiss.
Antonia had never experienced the feelings rushing through her system at the first touch of his mouth. Her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore, so she leaned against him. A soft moan escaped her throat, but she ignored it, wanting more, but not sure what more was.
Her hands touched the front of his chest and she could feel the muscles tense underneath. She wanted to feel more, but didn’t have the courage.
Slowly, the kiss ended. Brett pulled back and looked into her eyes. Her first thought was to reach up and pull his head back down.
Then reality hit her. Antonia was shocked that she’d just kissed a man and didn’t even know his name. Instinctively, her hand reached up and swung. But before her hand made contact, his shot out and caught her wrist in a vise like grip. Instead of being angry that she’d tried to hit him, the man leaned down and kissed her again. More passionately this time, pulling her close so she could feel him along her whole length. And Antonia’s body responded.
Her free hand crept up his arms and curled around his neck and her body shivered, then moved to fit more closely to his. Deepening the kiss, his tongue swooped into her mouth to mate with her own.
Antonia no longer knew where she was or what was happening around her. All her senses were curling around this man. Her fingers tentatively touched his hair and she felt his body react swiftly.
Long minutes later, Antonia’s body was shaking against his. Her mind had ceased to function and all she wanted to do was to continue kissing him. But she couldn’t move because her hand was still caught in his.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said softly, searching her features.
Antonia shook her head and stepped back, pulling her hand free. “No,” she managed to say.
“Why not?” he asked, seemingly not surprised by her answer.
“I can’t,” she said. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the beer. I need to go now,” she said.
On shaky legs, Antonia made it out of the bar. Standing in the cold, March air, she tried to get her bearings. She didn’t know where she was, so she wasn’t sure where her motorcycle was parked.
Too afraid to stand in the doorway for fear that the stranger would follow her, she started walking towards the nearest street with traffic. The beauty of D.C. is that all the streets ran parallel or perpendicular to each other. Well, except for the traffic circles, which confused everyone, including the residents.
Sure enough, as soon as she reached a main street, she knew where she was. Unfortunately, the only way back to her motorcycle was by bus and it wouldn’t arrive for another half hour because of the time of day. She’d have to hike it. There was no way she was going back into the bar to ask that stranger to drive her to the restaurant.
Forty-five minutes later, she finally arrived at her bike. It was a long walk, and she was wearing heels. But instead of the carpeting of Cesar’s, she’d walked along concrete streets. Her feet hurt just as badly as they did after a whole night at the club.
Looking at her watch, she gasped at the time. She was going to have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the club in time for her shift tonight. Pulling her jeans out of her backpack, she slid them under her skirt, then slipped the skirt off. She rolled both the skirt and the jacket up and put them into her pack.
Hopping on the bike, she sped away. She didn’t want to think about this day and specifically, her afternoon right now. All she wanted was to forget about the fight with her brother and the intensity of the kiss by that man.
As she drove her motorcycle through the streets, she was able to get herself back onto a somewhat normal keel. It was time to focus. She knew her brother, and he never made idle threats. She’d have to be careful. She wouldn’t put it past him to hire a private investigator to find out the information she wouldn’t give him.
Slipping through the heavy, rush-hour traffic, she formed a plan. It would require all her attention and she couldn’t slip once. She could beat Sal and her other brothers, but she’d have to be smarter than they were.
When she walked into the locker room at Cesar’s that evening, everyone was there and getting ready. When they saw her, they called out a communal “Hi!”
For the first time that day, Antonia laughed. “Hi,” she repeated to everyone. “I guess its Friday,” she said, knowing that Friday and Saturday nights were the hardest, but also the most profitable.
“You got it!” Monica called out cheerily in response.