Undeniably Yours (Torn, #3.5)(3)

Her eyes gathered me in until something clicked in her and then she realized who I was.

Like an idiot, I stared back, needing to see how she would handle me. See if she was going to change and try hard to appease me similar to how the others had been, but to my surprise, the lovely blonde had her mouth hanging ajar.

It was one look I hadn’t expected from a woman I was interested in. From my fans, yes, but never with the women I associated my personal life with.

I saw how her eyes roved about, but kept still when they reached my lips. It was then that I wondered what she was thinking about. Sad she might be, however the woman definitely found me attractive. Whatever it was, I was sure she felt it, too; the strange thing that I was getting from her…

I was going to say something witty to break the tension, however she spun around and held my hand, the one resting against her hip and danced with me, bringing me relief.

It was odd.

It was invigorating.

Strangely beautiful came to mind.

My hand tightened on her as I freely started to caress her other hip due to the pleasurable fact that she and I were glued to each other. Yet, I wanted more closeness. I needed to feel her soul.

Her scent wasn’t overpowering, nor was it subtle, but it affected me completely.

The entire time we danced, my body was swept away alongside hers, though my mind pondered on—worried even—that I was probably drunk. Maybe I needed to check into rehab because I was clearly hallucinating due to a barren emotional state. I mean, how could one feel empty one second and then feel they were being filled with everything, the next? It was confusing. As I stated before, it was strangely beautiful.

Like one of Pablo Neruda’s poems; if you let it, his words flow and you’ll feel them come alive. You’re affected by them, utterly enamored by his poetic ingenuity.

When the song ended, she moved away, giving me a blinding smile and a little wave. “It was great to meet you. Have a lovely night!” she spoke, moving away from me.

What? She wasn’t going anywhere or I might go bonkers trying to figure out this madness that was swirling in my boggled head.

My hand immediately reached out to her, pulling her close. Yep, Bass Cole had lost his wits. “Wait. Do you want to join me and my friends at my table?” I gestured towards where my booth was at and, as expected, they were all watching, probably just as confused as I was as to why I was pursuing a woman that was not my usual type.

Unusual, yes, but beautiful nonetheless. Her soul, her core, was made of substance. One look into her depths and I just knew. She wasn’t a faker, which was a novelty in my line of field.

Hesitation etched all over her face as she weighed my invitation. “I’m good. Thank you though.” She tried to pull away, however my hand was on lockdown with hers. No, she better try to a better job in trying to get away because I wasn’t going to let her until I figured out why my reaction to her pulled at me. I mentally gave myself the entire night to find out why.

Yep, this woman was going to tolerate me dogging her around. That’s simply how this cookie crumbles, I thought with underlying purpose.

“Okay, well can I invite myself to join you then?” I used one of those easy, cocky smiles that the photographers always asked of me during a photo shoot—and to my luck—it seemed to work.

“If you want to, I guess,” she replied.

Hallelujah!

I smirked as I introduced myself. It was stupid, but I knew she deserved this much courtesy. She looked gullible for some reason. “I’m Bass Cole.”

She looked at my outstretched hand for a second before she clasped it with hers. “Emma Anderson.”

Emma…

Her name suited her personality. It was perfect, I tried to think past the magnetizing feel of her hand as I took it upon my lips and kissed it.

A soft gasp came from her.

I never EVER kissed a woman’s hand—except for films—so I was clearly baffled.

One look into her face—her eyes—was all it took and then I was that yearning fiend again.

Emma was beautiful, like a lot of women around here, but her gullibility topped with this strangely unique, hypnotic way she affected me, sent me into a state of stupefying awe.

I couldn’t help it. My spellbound body leaned over and whispered into her ear, needing another excuse to sniff her like a dog. Jesus, I wanted more. More of what precisely? It was another blank answer. “I want you, Emma Anderson.” This was the closest thing I could find to sum it up with. It was a typical line for any guy that wanted a woman, but Hell, my vocabulary seemed to have diminished somewhere.

“I’m not going to have sex with you, you know. If that’s what you’re after, you’re going to have to look elsewhere,” she said with all seriousness.

My crass blatant-ness made her pull back, so I had to reassure her that this wasn’t a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am situation. Far from it.

My eyes gleamed with pure amusement. “As much as that thought appeals to me right now, Emma Anderson, I don’t have sex on first dates either.” The fight to keep myself in check was an easy one, mind you.

Hell, yes, this was going to be a date. I was going to get it, one way or the other.

I wasn’t merely determined; I was hell-bent on it happening tonight. My questions wouldn’t be answered with a quick lay, but with talking. I just needed to get to know her, talk some more… and I prayed to God that I would get the answers to my baffling thoughts.