Don’t get him wrong, he loved a well-dressed, well put together woman as much as the next guy. But on Sunday morning when he wanted to lounge around in his boxer briefs, he didn’t want to do that with a woman who looked like she was dressed to go to a tennis match at the local country club. No, he liked a woman confident and comfortable in a pair of knit shorts and a clingy top. Or bare-assed naked. That was even better.

Most of the time it took a lot of convincing for a woman of size to remove her clothes. But convincing them was a job he loved.

“See anything you like?”

He frowned at his brother’s question. His sibling still had some maturing to do. “It’s not a damn cattle sale.”

“I know.” His words were sincere enough but Eric still saw the look in Josh’s eyes. Like a kid in a candy store who wanted to gorge on everything and worry about his stomach later.

“I’m taking my time and I suggest you do the same.”

“But all the good ones will get taken. I’m not going to sit here and wait for that to happen.”

Even as the last words were coming out of his mouth, Eric watched Josh disappear into the crowd. Heaving a sigh for his younger brother’s impatience, he settled back on stool, leaning one elbow on the bar behind him. The room was crowded — there was no doubt the evening was a success.

The club had the right gimmick. Everyone — especially the women — came to see if the men really did put the size of their dicks on the front of their shirts. He did it himself simply because he didn’t want to go home with a woman, get all worked up and then have her run away. Literally.

He’d do just as he said, take a little time and see what the room had to offer. Twisting on his barstool, he motioned for the bartender to fill his glass again. Taking a sip of the whiskey, he turned back around to peruse the crowd.

His gaze wandered over the dance floor where several couples were getting busy doing a whole lot of dirty dancing. The thumping music provided an excuse for the few who had hooked up with a potential someone to bump and grind in an arousing parody of the sex act.

Forcing his eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of so many bodies straining together, he moved on to the tables across the room. It was a smorgasbord of female flesh.

Surely somewhere in this sea of women was one just for him.

One. That’s all he wanted. He wouldn’t admit it to Josh — hell, he barely admitted it to himself — but he’d grown tired of superficial relationships and one night stands. He was ready for a commitment. Ready to find “ the one”.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes locked with a woman sitting alone at the center table. She maintained the contact for a second, then blushed furiously and dropped her head, breaking the electrical connection.

Eric wasn’t disappointed. He knew a guilty flush when he saw one. Apparently she’d been looking at him for quite awhile and he’d caught her staring. The thought buoyed his confidence.

He knew he wasn’t bad looking. He had thick black hair compliments of his mother and his muscles were courtesy of the long hours he put in on his construction sites. But tonight he was going against some stiff competition. Grimacing inwardly at his second bad pun of the night, he sat his glass aside. He’d definitely had enough to drink.

While the woman continued to study the tablecloth with alarming intensity, he studied her. Her dark hair was thick and lustrous, curling slightly around a smooth face dominated by wide green eyes he’d only caught a brief glimpse of. A set of pouty lips made his dick jump at the thought of what he’d like her to do with them.

“Damn.” He shifted on the stool trying to rev back the throttle his brain had put on his body. He hadn’t even met her yet. Didn’t even know her name or if she was available — or interested.

That was the tricky part. Working up the courage to put yourself out there. Getting shot down was never fun, but he’d never know if he didn’t at least try. Leaving his empty glass on the bar, he walked toward her table, keeping his eyes on the woman’s down bent head as he dodged and weaved through the mass of bodies obstructing his path.

“Hi.” Smooth Eric.

At least it got her attention. Her big green eyes widened as she stared up at him, a look of disbelief flitting briefly across her face. That small hint of vulnerability tugged at Eric’s heart and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He wondered if she knew how easy she was to read.

“Hello.”

Her voice was soft and melodic and Eric thought how well it suited her. Up close, her skin was flawless perfection and he’d bet it would be heaven to touch. To stroke.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” His hand rested lightly on the back of the chair next to her.

An embarrassed blush stole across her cheeks. “Oh, yes, please.” She put a hand to her flushed cheek. “I don’t know where my manners are.”

Eric pulled the chair out just enough to make room for his big body, leaving it close enough to hers that their knees touched as he sat. He felt encouraged when she didn’t move away.

“My name is Eric Daniels. What’s yours?”

“Emily. Emily, umm. Emily.”

“Too soon for last names?”

“Maybe.” She held out her hand.

When his hand closed around hers, Eric felt an electrical charge that went straight to his groin.

Something about this woman made every other woman in the room fade away. She exhibited an air of wide-eyed innocence and a sultry-come-hither vibe at the same time. The combination was as erotic as hell and Eric found himself vowing to protect her from the wolves in the room while simultaneously wanting to throw her on the table and fuck her like a two dollar whore.

“Can I buy you a drink, Emily?”

“I’d like a Pink Flamingo, please.”

Her smile nearly took his breath away.

The waitress who brought the drinks was different than the snooty one before and Emily was glad. She didn’t need drop dead gorgeous doing any comparison shopping.

“Have you ever been to one of these parties before?”

Emily nursed her drink and tried not to openly stare at the hunk of manhood sitting so close that his blue jean clad knees brushed hers. The rough denim against her silk stockings made her pussy clench. Would his calloused hands feel as good against her naked thighs as he held them open before he went down on her?

He was a lot of man. And she liked big men. He was also a man she didn’t want getting away. She couldn’t see the entire number on his chest; his very large arm was covering the right hand side. All she could see was an eight. But heat stoked through her. He wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t his type, would he?

No. He was totally focused on her.

For now.

If she wanted him to stay awhile, she’d better find her tongue.

Oh the things she could do to him with her tongue.

“This is my first one.”

“What?” He shook his head, touching a hand to his ear indicating he couldn’t her over the music and the crowd. He leaned in closer and so did she.

Shit, he smelled good.

Emily licked her lips and felt her inner diva clap as he followed the movement with heated eyes. “My first.”

“Do you need to see my numbers, Emily?” He took the white card from his chest and laid it on the table between them. The number eighteen started up at her and for once in her life she was grateful for her size. Was it possible that this man could want a woman like her? Holding her gaze, he reached behind his back and found the other card.

A number one followed by a two. She couldn’t control the small gasp that escaped. Y-e-s-s!She’d hit the jackpot.

The heat in his eyes flared brighter. “Are you interested in finding out what goes on in those back rooms, Emily?”

Well, hell, Eric hadn’t meant to cut to the chase like that. He was usually a little smoother. But the deep vee of her blouse gave him a perfect view of her ample charms and the throb behind his zipper short circuited his normal charm.