Read Online Big Girls Do It Better by Jasinda Wilder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jasinda Wilder
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was a lion stalking a gazelle across the savannah. I was no gazelle, but he didn't seem to care.
"You've got a great selection," Chase said, his voice rolling over me.
I was flustered enough to drop the CD I was holding. He was mere inches from me, gazing down at me with what could not possibly be, could never be, surely wasn't desire.
"Selection?" I asked.
Am I popping out of my top? I looked down at my chest, suddenly unable to put two thoughts together.
Chase laughed, a low, amused chuckle. "Your song selection. You have a lot of songs to choose from."
I glanced back up to meet Chase's eyes, and as our gazes met, Chase let his slide down to my cleavage and hung there, an obvious, intentional ogle.
"Oh," I muttered. "Yeah...well, can't be a DJ without music."
"True. But your selection is especially...vast." He was talking about my tits, now.
"You sounded great," I said, because it was true, and a complete sentence.
"Thanks." He reached past me, his arm going over my shoulder and brushing my face, his lips now mere inches from mine as the whole bar watched.
I thought he was going to kiss me, but he grabbed a song request slip from the waist-high counter running along the wall behind me. He took a mini-pencil and scribbled something on the slip, and then handed it to me.
"Sing with me," he said. It wasn't quite a direct command, but almost.
I was tempted to say no, just to show him he couldn't order me around, but damn it, I wanted to sing with him. I was sure, in the same way I knew when I was a nailing song just right, Chase and I would sound incredible together. My deep alto voice would provide a perfect counterpoint to his powerful tenor.
We would make beautiful music together , I thought. I had to suppress a naughty giggle, because the thought had nothing at all to do with singing.
"I would love to," I said, as I took the slip from his fingers.
Our fingers touched when I grabbed it from him, and I felt again an electric current zapping through my entire body from that one split-second contact.
If I felt such electricity from just our fingers touching, then dear god, what would it feel like to have his hands on my tits? Pinching my nipples and slipping his fingers into my—
I actually, literally gasped as I forced the thought from my mind. Chase was still gazing at me, and now the gleam of lust was bearing down on me full force, unmistakable and undeniable and focused on me.
"Stop looking at me like that," I said.
"Like what?" His voice was pitched low so only I could hear, even though with the fill music pounding from the speakers he could have spoken in a yell and no one would have heard. He spoke low on purpose, so I'd have to get closer to him.
It worked, and I wasn't protesting.
"Like you want me."
His eyes sparked and flashed, and the corners of his luscious mouth tipped up in a smirk. "Oh, but I do."
"You can't," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm—" I started, and then had to cut myself off and grab for the mic, because the fill song had ended and the next number was up and needed introducing.
I read the name and song title, my brain working on autopilot. Chase was still standing there, his brow furrowed in a frown. When I sat back down, he moved to rejoin me, but had to step aside for a line of people making song requests. I had to push him from my mind after that, busy with sorting CDs and prompter tracks and announcing songs, and by the time I looked out at the crowd again, he was gone.
I took my break at midnight, slipping outside to the deserted alley behind the bar with a bottle of beer. This was my quiet time, my five or ten minutes away from the crush of the crowd to gather my thoughts and let my nerves settle. It was a dark, narrow alley, lit by a single light hanging from a string between adjacent buildings, shedding sickly orange light and long shadows. I leaned a shoulder against the rough brick of the bar's exterior wall and sipped my beer.
"You never
"You've got a great selection," Chase said, his voice rolling over me.
I was flustered enough to drop the CD I was holding. He was mere inches from me, gazing down at me with what could not possibly be, could never be, surely wasn't desire.
"Selection?" I asked.
Am I popping out of my top? I looked down at my chest, suddenly unable to put two thoughts together.
Chase laughed, a low, amused chuckle. "Your song selection. You have a lot of songs to choose from."
I glanced back up to meet Chase's eyes, and as our gazes met, Chase let his slide down to my cleavage and hung there, an obvious, intentional ogle.
"Oh," I muttered. "Yeah...well, can't be a DJ without music."
"True. But your selection is especially...vast." He was talking about my tits, now.
"You sounded great," I said, because it was true, and a complete sentence.
"Thanks." He reached past me, his arm going over my shoulder and brushing my face, his lips now mere inches from mine as the whole bar watched.
I thought he was going to kiss me, but he grabbed a song request slip from the waist-high counter running along the wall behind me. He took a mini-pencil and scribbled something on the slip, and then handed it to me.
"Sing with me," he said. It wasn't quite a direct command, but almost.
I was tempted to say no, just to show him he couldn't order me around, but damn it, I wanted to sing with him. I was sure, in the same way I knew when I was a nailing song just right, Chase and I would sound incredible together. My deep alto voice would provide a perfect counterpoint to his powerful tenor.
We would make beautiful music together , I thought. I had to suppress a naughty giggle, because the thought had nothing at all to do with singing.
"I would love to," I said, as I took the slip from his fingers.
Our fingers touched when I grabbed it from him, and I felt again an electric current zapping through my entire body from that one split-second contact.
If I felt such electricity from just our fingers touching, then dear god, what would it feel like to have his hands on my tits? Pinching my nipples and slipping his fingers into my—
I actually, literally gasped as I forced the thought from my mind. Chase was still gazing at me, and now the gleam of lust was bearing down on me full force, unmistakable and undeniable and focused on me.
"Stop looking at me like that," I said.
"Like what?" His voice was pitched low so only I could hear, even though with the fill music pounding from the speakers he could have spoken in a yell and no one would have heard. He spoke low on purpose, so I'd have to get closer to him.
It worked, and I wasn't protesting.
"Like you want me."
His eyes sparked and flashed, and the corners of his luscious mouth tipped up in a smirk. "Oh, but I do."
"You can't," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm—" I started, and then had to cut myself off and grab for the mic, because the fill song had ended and the next number was up and needed introducing.
I read the name and song title, my brain working on autopilot. Chase was still standing there, his brow furrowed in a frown. When I sat back down, he moved to rejoin me, but had to step aside for a line of people making song requests. I had to push him from my mind after that, busy with sorting CDs and prompter tracks and announcing songs, and by the time I looked out at the crowd again, he was gone.
I took my break at midnight, slipping outside to the deserted alley behind the bar with a bottle of beer. This was my quiet time, my five or ten minutes away from the crush of the crowd to gather my thoughts and let my nerves settle. It was a dark, narrow alley, lit by a single light hanging from a string between adjacent buildings, shedding sickly orange light and long shadows. I leaned a shoulder against the rough brick of the bar's exterior wall and sipped my beer.
"You never
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