“What’s your poison, Foxy?”
His question catches me halfway through my swallow, and I almost spill my drink. “I never gave you my name, Romeo.”
He snorts. “It was just a lucky guess.”
Our eyes meet, and I shiver. Annoying.
I don’t recognize his voice or mannerisms, but I know those eyes.
Likereallyknow them, but it escapes me from where. Stupid mask. Or thank God for the mask.
Does he know me? I wear dreadlocks mostly to piss off my father, but it only occurs to me nowthat my hairstyle might negate the mask, especially if someone met me before.
“What are you drinking?”
The gravel in his voice is definitely unfamiliar. And quiet-sexy. What? He said two sentences, and I find him sexy? My standards must be drunk too.
Jesus, this place is messing with me. They must infuse the air with a potent aphrodisiac.
“Vodka soda.” I take another sip.
He nods and waves to the server.
“I didn’t say I want another one,” I object, even though… one more wouldn’t hurt.
“But you do.” He leans. “I read your mind, Foxy,” he whispers. His breath is warm, gin, and something darker. Expensive trouble.
His scent makes my head spin. I’m speechless for a beat, and that is definitely a first for me.
An involuntary shiver rakes through my body. Aphrodisiac in the air for sure.
“Back off, Romeo. Or that drink will end up in your lap.”
He smirks. “How romantic.”
I roll my eyes. “If I were after romance, I wouldn’t be in a sex club.”
I swivel on my chair, my knees grazing his legs. The fabric of his suit is soft, caressing. The contact sends electricity up my spine.
Or down my spine into my core. The reaction sobers me up, and I pull away like he burned me.
I should walk away.
I don’t.
He interprets my knee-jerk reaction in his own way and smirks. “So it’s sex you’re after?”
Chapter 3
Roxy
Imight chafe my eye sockets from all the eye-rolling. “Not being bothered would be nice.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I saidnotbeing bothered.”
His lips curve, and fuck, they are kissable.
