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After searching my eyes for a moment, she nodded. “So, what are you wearing tonight?”
“Not my Madden boots, that’s for sure,” I joked, shaking my head at them.
“If you just wore your boots and nothing else, you could change Collin’s mind about waiting,” she teased, and we both laughed.
But an idea took shape, and I shared it with her.
Miranda and I drove to Winston’s in her car, a sleek Mercedes convertible in a gleaming silver color that reminded me of Collin’s eyes.
“Stop squirming,” Miranda said as we rolled by the recently renovated front entrance.
The double garage doors were now black, flanked by mirrored pillars, and crowned with new awnings with the name of the club in fancy script. At least a hundred fans were already lined up, waiting to get in.
“This dress barely covers my ass,” I said with a huff.
“You chose it, and the lack of material is the point, right?”
She was right, but ... “The leather’s too cold against my skin.”
“You won’t be cold long.” She winked. “Not after Collin sees you.”
Her colorful silk scarf floated around her prettily coifed head. That accessory alone was so expensive, it could probably pay the rent on my apartment. My hair was unbound and blown to hell on the drive from her house.
“I hope you’re right.” I stopped thinking about rent and experienced an anticipatory shiver, imagining Collin’s large hands skimming over my skin. That thought warmed me more than the Burberry trench coat that Miranda had loaned me.
“Of course I am,” she said with more confidence than I felt about my ability to successfully seduce Collin.
Five months. What guy waits five months to have sex with his girlfriend?
I didn’t have an answer, just a lot of doubts.
Turning the steering wheel, Miranda took the down ramp that led to Winston’s private underground entrance. With the keycard inserted, the arm went up, and we descended. After parking in a VIP space by the door, she flashed her ID to the security guard, and we entered the building.
Inside, the garage-level entrance was mostly unfinished except for the new dressing rooms. Upstairs was a different story. The club had upped the glitz and glamour, riding on the wings of ABCR’s popularity.
“There you are. Finally.” Collin pushed away from the black-painted wall where he’d been leaning. With his dark hair sexily disheveled and dressed all in black, even his jeans, I hadn’t seen him at first. “How was work? I tried to call you,” he said, searching my eyes, “but you didn’t answer.”
“She wasn’t at work,” Miranda said, and his silver gaze went to her. “Not for her whole shift, anyway. She was with me. We went shopping.”
“I can see that.”
Collin’s gaze traveled the length of me, his eyes darkening as he noted the belted trench coat and high heels. Maybe Miranda was right. The dress beneath the coat might get me what I wanted after all.
“What are you wearing?” His long fingers curling around my upper arms, Collin drew me closer. “Anything underneath that coat?” he asked low, toying with my belt.
“Huh-uh,” I said, stopping him from unwrapping me by placing my hand over his. “I mean, yes, of course.” My voice and other parts of me quivered from his touch. “But you can take it off later.” I glanced up at him through my lashes, hoping the look was seductive.
“What game are you playing, Addy?” His mouth flattened with displeasure. “What’s wrong with now? I wanna see what you’re wearing. I don’t like waiting.”
“I don’t like waiting either,” I said pointedly, my narrowed gaze clashing with his.
“Miss Footit.” One of the bartenders appeared on the stairs. “Sorry to interrupt.” Picking up on the vibe, the woman shifted on her feet nervously. “But Mr. Skellin would like to have a word with you before the show.”
Collin frowned. “She’s busy.”
“But he’ll be mad if she doesn’t come.” The bartender gnawed her lower lip, looking worried.
“I’ll be there in just a minute,” I said.
