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Shit she wasn’t ready for. She relaxed into me, molded to my body. Ran her hands down my chest to the waistband of my jeans. “I thought you said you’d take care of me.”
“I will.” I pulled back enough to watch her face and stop those hands from moving. I had to know the truth. Was this just sex, or was it more? Could she trust me again, even after I’d walked away? “Do you trust me?”
Her nod was immediate, and relief flooded my body. I hadn’t fucked it up beyond repair. Not yet. You will if you don’t tell her.
I pressed another kiss against her lips. “If you want to be taken care of, go find Grey.”
She reared back, and I let her go. I’d said my piece. I wouldn’t hold her anymore. “What?”
“He wants you, probably more than his next breath. Are you telling me you don’t feel the same?”
She did. Her chest was absolutely heaving. “I can’t.”
“You can.” I was losing her, so I kept going. They needed this, and for whatever reason—penance or pain—I needed to be the one who gave it to them. “One night, Mari. That’s what you asked for. Let him give it to you. Let him put you both out of your misery.”
“You think he’ll be okay with that? With one night?”
Not a chance in hell. If Greyson walked away from her after one night, I’d give her my entire bank account, inheritance and all. “I don’t know, but I know it’s what you need. What you both need. The future can wait until tomorrow.”
She wanted to. The way she tightened her fists told me so. Clench, release. Clench, release. But could she push past decades of keeping him at arm’s length to take what they both wanted?
“Okay.”
The victory spreading through me was expected, but the relief was a surprise. Her giving in felt like she wasn’t just giving him a chance, but me too.
I wasn’t going to waste it.
“Good girl. Go have fun. I’ll keep an eye out.”
She darted in close, pressing a kiss to my cheek. Her fingers dug into my sides, nails sharp and a little painful, before whispering against my damp skin. “The next time you start something, you better be willing to finish it.”
I let her slide out of my embrace and move toward the stairs before I called for her. She twisted back, and I grinned at the pout on her lips. “The next time I fuck you, I’ll make sure you can’t see straight. But not until we’re both ready.”
I didn’t miss the flash of a grin on her face when she melted into the crowd.
Chapter Thirteen
Greyson
The VIP section was deserted, which suited my mood just fine. I wasn’t interested in women crawling all over me when the only one I wanted was downstairs grinding on Dominic. Lucky bastard. I hated watching him put his hands all over her, their movements getting more frantic with each moment, until they finally kissed.
So why couldn’t I stop?
Maybe it was the way she gave in to him, a sort of submission that she only offered him. Maybe it was the way he knew her body, the way he riled her up so much that I could see it clear as day. Maybe it was the way I could easily picture myself on the other side, boxing her in so all she could see, taste, and smell was us.
One of Mari’s one-timers came up, and the moment he was gone, Dominic had his hand wrapped in Mari’s hair. For the longest time, they talked and stroked and kissed. Dominic nipped and bit at her until even I could see the bruises. It didn’t piss me off like I expected; it just made me want to give her my own.
Dominic’s words came back to me. Mari doesn’t need you as a friend. But would she let me be more?
All of a sudden, she pulled away, her face twisted until she stormed off the dance floor. I was staring dumbfounded at where they’d been when Dominic looked up and caught my eye.
You’re welcome, he mouthed, throwing me a cheeky wink before he made his way to the bar.
Welcome for what?
I kept my eyes glued to the lower level, looking for any sign of Mari, but she never returned. Where the hell is she? My heart beat faster as I took off for the stairs. Moore and Tennessee were in the club watching, but I didn’t trust anyone. Not with Cash fucking around the city.
I rounded the corner and found her leaning against the wall, hair plastered to her skin and one hand buried under her skirt.
