Gentlemen Prefer Succubi

His mouth slid up in a gorgeous smile, and a pulse of attraction shot straight through me. Definitely the same guy, blue eyes or not. How embarrassing that I was still attracted to him.

How embarrassing that I didn’t remember his name.

“Noah,” he offered. “Noah Gideon.”

“Fine,” I repeated, trying not to think of his package or the wonderful things he’d done to me with it. “Coffee, and you can fill me in on the details, Noah.”

“I would love for you to have coffee with me,” he said, lifting my hand and kissing the knuckles, garbage smell and all.

Dumpster, I reminded myself. He left you in a Dumpster!

Now someone tell my throbbing loins that.

CHAPTER TWO

“Two coffees,” he ordered, indicating that I should sit. The waitress looked shell-shocked at the sight of my gorgeous date and nodded, hurrying away. I could understand how she felt.

I sat down at the booth, determined not to be won over by the sexy smile he was beaming in my direction. “Nice place,” I commented uneasily, unwrapping the silverware and placing the napkin in my lap. “Hope the fact that I’m covered in garbage doesn’t bother you.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d wash your hands.” He winked at me.

I nearly melted into a puddle right there. God, those lips. They’d tugged on my flesh in countless naughty ways, and my brain seemed determined to feed those moments at the most inappropriate of times. A memory of his face between my parted thighs made me bolt to my feet, flushed and bothered. “Be right back.”

I washed my face and hands in the bathroom, then returned to my impromptu date. The eatery was more of a small, trendy cafe than a full-service restaurant, but I cringed at the looks some of the other patrons were giving me and my wrinkled, dirty clothes. Or that brown smear that wouldn’t go away on my sleeve, no matter how hard I’d scrubbed with the hand soap.

The blinding white smile on Noah’s face could have melted an iceberg. “I like the atmosphere here, don’t you?” He nudged a menu toward me as I slid into the booth. “Order something. You look like you had a rough night.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. Biting back a retort, I smiled sweetly at him and pushed the menu away. “I’ll just have a salad. I’m not that hungry.”

Actually, I was ravenous, but I couldn’t eat a burger in front of such a gorgeous man. He’d probably wonder why my size-fourteen self was merrily chowing down when I should be dieting. At his incredulous look, I didn’t know whether to be offended or cheered. “Salad sounds just lovely,” I said, and refolded my napkin on my lap. “Now, about last night …”

I broke off the conversation starter when the waitress returned to take our orders. To my credit, I didn’t bat an eye when my date ordered a triple-meat cheeseburger with extra mustard and onions. Instead, I concentrated on opening one Sweet’N Low packet and very carefully pouring half into my coffee.

“Miss?” The waitress looked at me, her pen poised above her notepad.

“Salad,” I said, trying to remain pleasant.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “You-”

“Can I just get a damn salad?” I bit off before she could embarrass me further. Was it so hard to believe that a fat girl wanted a salad?

She scribbled something on her notepad. “I was going to tell you that you have a noodle in your hair.”

Oh, of course. I picked the offending noodle out and wadded it into a napkin, holding it out to her. “Could you …?”

When the waitress took it and stomped off, Noah sighed after her. “You realize she’s going to spit in my burger now.”

“Guess you should be a bit more discerning when it comes to your dates,” I said, wrapping my hands around the coffee cup and blowing on it. “Which brings me to why I’m here.”

“It’s not for the pleasure of my company?” His voice was low, husky.

The simple words sent a bolt of desire straight through me again, a rather unnerving feeling in itself, much less when experienced in the middle of a crowded cafe. My mind dragged itself back into the gutter as he picked up his glass of water, and I found myself fixated on his long, tanned fingers. Those fingers had trailed all over my skin like hot feathers, stroking and brushing against my most sensitive areas. I remember how he’d looked into my eyes with his deep blues as he’d stroked at my clit. I had come against his fingers so hard that I’d screamed.

A flush crept over my entire body.

“Um.” I fanned myself with my hand. What were we talking about again? Oh, yes. “That’s just the thing. I don’t remember the pleasure of your company. And seeing as how I woke up in a Dumpster sans pantyhose-or panties-I think enlightening me would be great.” I did my best to sip my coffee with a bland expression on my face. Must not be overwhelmed by his sexy voice. Or those lips. Or those broad, yummy shoulders.

Noah leaned in close, smiling. “So does this mean you’re not wearing any panties right now?”

I broke out in a nervous sweat. “Just answer the question.”

He leaned back and his hand went to his thick blond hair, ruffling it. “Well, ah. We met at the hotel bar. You’d been there all night from the look of things, and I offered to call you a cab. The next thing I knew, you were climbing into my lap. I took it as an invitation-a very nice one, if I do say so.” He looked over at me, and I could have sworn his eyes had a hint of blue to them. “You can do really amazing things with your mouth.”

I spat coffee all over the table. Good lord, that didn’t sound like me at all.

He took a sip of his own coffee, unbothered by my strangled noises. “You mentioned a disappointment at work just before … you know.” Pale eyes gleamed as he scanned my appearance. “Something about getting passed over for a promotion? Does that ring a bell?”

I’d told him about that? “Exhibit coordinator at the museum. Much better than a lowly docent.”

“A what?”

“A docent.” No one ever knew what a docent was. “We give tours and point out the paintings.”

“Ah.” He paused, sipping his coffee. “Exhibit coordinator is much better, then?”

Much better was putting it mildly. I’d finally get to work with the ancient artifacts, bringing me a step closer to my real love, archaeology. I’d had my eye on the exhibit coordinator job since I first began as an intern at the New City Museum of Art. I’d worked my butt off for the last two years, but when it came down to it, the job had been given to someone with fewer degrees and bigger boobs. It was enough to drive anyone to drink, even a prude like me.

“I was upset.” I shrugged, trying not to show how much it bothered me, even as I blinked back frustrated tears. “I went out for a few drinks at Escapes.” Escapes was a lousy dive on the far end of town from my place, but the cheese fries were good.

“Isn’t that in the south part of the city?”

I drank my coffee, hoping it would quell the growling of my stomach. “It is.”

“So what are you doing here in downtown now?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” I blew on my coffee, trying to distract myself from looking into his beautiful eyes like some lovesick fool. Again. “To be honest,” I said, “it’s all a blur after the mugging.” A big, sex-filled blur.

Funny, I hadn’t even remembered the mugging until a few moments ago.

“Mugging?”

“Yeah.” I shot a glance over at him. He was watching my mouth with a strange fixation, as if he’d remembered all the things that drunken-slut me had done to him with my “talented” mouth. I blushed and