Sweet Dreams (A Sugar Rush Novel) Read Free Page A

jolted into gear, that throb of heat starting right between her legs. She struggled to pull in a breath, frantically trying to think of something to say.
    “Hi,” she managed.
    Amusement flashed in his dark eyes.
    “Hi,” he replied.
    “How . . . um, how are you?” Polly stammered.
    “I’m fine, thanks,” he said. “How are you?”
    “Peachy.”
    Oh, God. Peachy?
    Polly looked desperately at Mia, who was watching from the bar. Mia gave her a nod of encouragement and a discreet thumbs-up. Obviously she had no idea what a ninny Polly was turning out to be.
    “Peachy,” Mr. Hottie drawled, his beautiful mouth now joining in the amusement with a slight smile. “Good to know.”
    His voice was like melted dark chocolate. Maybe if Polly just kept her mouth shut, he would forget she was there and she could just stare at him in awe. She’d thought men like him were a myth—the sexy, utterly masculine, controlling kind who made a girl want to drop her panties on the spot.
    Mr. Hottie was no myth, though. He was all too real. She could even smell him—a tantalizing combination of soap, scotch, and some purely male scent that must have been testosterone or pheromones or something.
    Whatever it was, it was making Polly all hot and damp between her legs. And strongly wishing she could drop her panties.
    He nodded toward the shotglass still in her hand. “You like it sweet and strong.”
    “What?” She looked down at the frothy, creamy shot, the glass rim laced with rainbow sprinkles.
    “That’s a lot of sugar,” he said.
    “It’s a birthday cake shot.”
    “A what?”
    “Cream, cake-flavored vodka, and chocolate.” Polly held up the glass. “Birthday cake shot.”
    “It’s your birthday?”
    She nodded. “I’m twenty-three.”
    “Twenty-three, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Still a baby.”
    A baby? She frowned, rankled at the idea that this hot, sexy man didn’t see her as a woman.
    “Your go, man.” The other guy moved back from the pool table.
    Mr. Hottie chalked his cue and stepped forward to take his shot. Polly backed away to give him room. He pocketed the yellow ball. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the redhead and her boobs slither out of the corner booth and start toward him, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
    Before Polly could even think of what to do next, the redhead had sidled up to Mr. Hottie and put her hand on his arm. She leaned in to speak close to his ear. Though Polly couldn’t hear what she said, she was pretty sure it wasn’t “Hi, how are you?”
    Disappointment stabbed her. She had no idea how to compete with a woman like that, who wore her blatant sexuality like armor.
    She turned and shuffled back to Mia, feeling like a whipped dog.
    “What?” Mia darted a glance at Mr. Hottie. “What happened?”
    “Slutty redhead happened,” Polly said morosely. She tilted her head back to down the birthday cake shot, appreciating the sweet burn of alcohol and hoping it would obliterate her disappointment. “Can we go now?”
    “Oh, Pols.” Mia sighed. “Don’t give up so easily. Look, check out that guy over there.”
    She nodded toward a younger, blond guy at the end of the bar. Polly supposed he was cute, but she couldn’t drum up any interest in trying again.
    “I promise, we’ll find a guy who can rock your world,” Mia said. “And your headboard.”
    The guy beside her, who was in possession of an impressive but fuzzy unibrow that crawled like a caterpillar over his eyes, leaned over and waggled his singular eyebrow at Polly.
    “I can help you with that, little lady,” he remarked.
    The fact that Polly was momentarily tempted was a measure of how much she’d had to drink, how desperate she was getting, and how bummed out she was over her failure with Mr. Hottie.
    “Dream on, dude,” Mia told Unibrow Guy, rolling her eyes.
    “I’m going to pee, then we can go home,” Polly muttered.
    She set her empty shotglass on the bar and maneuvered through the crowd