“Oh my God!” I exclaim and immediately straighten. Dislodging the high heel, I hastily pluck all the napkins from the holder. The pain pulsing throughout my pelvis makes my teeth grind. Motherfucking fuck, it hurts, but not as bad as the embarrassment I feel at this moment. I wish the floor would open and swallow me alive.
“I’ll bring more napkins,” Tony says with urgency as he scurries away.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, bend over Logan, and press the napkins on top of his crotch. His intoxicating smell wraps around me in a dizzying spell. I gasp when I feel his massive erection digging into the palm of my hand. Scorching fire takes over my entire body, making my core pulse with need.
What the hell is happening to me?
All of a sudden, he grabs my wrist, stopping my movement. “Enough,” he snaps in a voice so thick and raw I freeze and stare back into his eyes that feel like two pieces of hot coals. My pulse quickens as I feel everything around us fade again, until Logan swears loudly under his breath and lets go of my wrist as if I’m radioactive.
I shake my head and blink a few times, attempting to clear my mind, not understanding the deep connection I feel to this guy I just met and why I got so aroused at a mere touch. “I’ll bring you a fresh bottle.” I offer a small smile. My face is probably ten shades of red at this moment since I feel my cheeks burning fiercely.
“There’s no need. You’ve done enough. Just leave,” Logan says coldly, his voice chilling me to the bone.
I recoil as if he slapped me, back rod straight. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’ll ask Tony to bring you another, then.” I turn on my heel, desperate to get as far away from him as possible, the room hazy through the curtain of unshed tears.
“Sorry! He doesn’t get out much,” Malik yells at my back as I make a beeline for the bathroom hallway. I shove my way through the sweaty bodies crowding the bar, needing a few moments to compose myself before going back to shadowing Tony for the rest of the night.
Fisting my fingers at my sides, I take a few deep breaths in. A failed attempt to calm my racing heart, really. All I want to do is go home and curl into a ball. I don’t understand the visceral reaction I have toward that asshole, but I can’t let him ruin myfirst day at work. I need this job. I just have to stay away from that section for the rest of the night and let Tony handle it alone. Hopefully, he will understand.
11
Logan
Ifinally reach the private booth where only Kaiden and Malik are seated.
“Are you possessed or something? You looked like you were about to fuck that girl in the middle of the bar,” Malik chuckles out before taking a hearty sip from the beer bottle he is holding. “She’s hot, but still, I didn’t picture you as much of an exhibitionist. That’s more my thing.”
Kaiden is seated next to him in the black leather booth. A curt nod is the only acknowledgment I receive from him. He is turned slightly with his back to the wall. His gaze is fixated in the direction of the bar, and his silver rings make sharp clinking noises against his whiskey tumbler while he drums his fingers on its side.
“Shut the fuck up, Malik. I’m not in the mood right now,” I snap at him, my jaw locking with anger. “Where’s Dominic?” I ask, pointedly looking at the empty glass of whiskey on the table opposite Kaiden’s vise-like grip, knowing it must be his.
“He got bored and hungry waiting for you, so he stepped out for a quick snack,” Malik replies and places the beer bottle back on the table.
“What crawled up your ass, fuckface?” Dominic’s voice rings from behind me.
I turn around and step to the side so he can sit at the table. He is dressed in one of his Italian designer suits, as per usual, and his features are relaxed. The hunger that always seems present in his eyes dulled down, and the pale hue that usually settles over his bronzed olive skin absent.
“Nothing,” I respond in a clipped tone and sit down next to him, signaling to the server to come take my order. “Since when do we have Conclave meetings someplace other than Kaiden’s penthouse?”
Malik tilts his head toward Kaiden. “Since lover boy here had to drag us with him on one of his stalking sessions. Look toward the bar at one of the high-top tables,” he tells me as he relaxes back with a shit-eating grin.
“I’m not stalking her,” Kaiden says through clenched teeth. The look he throws Malik could level a city to mere ashes.
Dominic snickers. “Oh yeah? Then what are we doing here?”
Tony, the willowy server, blocks my view as he places a beer in front of me and refreshes Dominic’s glass of whiskey so I can’t see what they’re talking about, but I get a feeling I know who this is all about. Even so, I’m allowed a glimpse of the object of Kaiden’s obsession as soon as I thank Tony and he steps aside—a young woman with ebony hair, ivory skin, and pale cerulean eyes surrounded by rings of violet.
She is seated at a high-top table near the bar next to a skinnyblond guy who rambles like he is in a race with himself. She looks kind of bored, to be honest. He leans forward, places his hand on Iris’s naked thigh, and slides it a little upward under her dress. If Kaiden was pissed before, he is going to burn this fucking place to the ground any minute now.
I chance a look at him, and crimson streaks take over the bottomless pits of onyx in his eyes, mixing with the flecks of gold, his power thickening the air in the bar as the dim lights flicker above our heads. Still, it’s a good sign if his irises are not completely golden. He comes dangerously close to losing his shit when that happens. The vein on the side of his head looks like it’s about to burst, though.
“Kaiden,” Dominic rumbles in warning before anyone in this bar can notice what is happening.
Kaiden takes a deep breath in, and his power retreats, but it still hangs close to the surface, ready to burst, electrifying the air. I almost choke on the fury seeping out of his pores like noxious fumes. Malik looks at me and Dominic with an arched eyebrow. “Wanna bet that douche tries to kiss Iris in the next ten minutes?” Pouring gasoline over Kaiden’s raging fire is not a good idea, but Malik doesn’t care. He always finds it funny when one of us gets pissed and likes to push our buttons any chance he gets.
“I say twenty minutes.” Dominic slaps a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
Malik takes his wallet out of his leather duster, which is between him and Kaiden, and matches Dominic’s wager. He slides the money on the table before waggling his eyebrows at me. “Logan? What do you say, man?”
