Page 8 of Hearts Storm

Even though I’m nervous as fuck, I keep dancing. Acting as if I don’t have a care in the world, I do what I do best: turn my back on him. It takes less than a minute before a pair of large, warm hands appear from behind, splaying across my stomach.

“Well, hello there, Pretty.” Holy hell. How can his voice be even sexier than I remember? It’s disarming and hot as fuck. Like molten honey slowly sliding down my spine. It makes me want to lick him. “What are the chances?”

I snort. No shit.

Spinning in his arms, I give him a snarky grin. “My bet? Slim to none.”

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Where did you go off and disappear to last night?”

The song changes to a heavier, sensual beat, and before I have a chance to respond, Smirky tugs me even closer. A restless tide of sweaty bodies fills the dance floor as the music rises and falls.

My body responds instinctively to his lead as I let him guide me to the rhythm. He slides his hands lower, splaying them possessively over my thighs, making my skin tighten with need. The heat of his palms seeps through my jeans like a brand.

“Damn, you feel good,” he murmurs against my ear, breath hot against my skin.

My eyes drift, only to find Dark & Broody still watching from his place at the bar. Even in the dim light, I can see how intense his gaze is.

Jaw tight, something dangerous flashes in his eyes as Smirky’s hands roam over my body, swiveling his hips.

The vibes he’s giving off are screaming with the promise of raw sex, seeping from his aura, melding with mine.

A thrill runs through me. There’s something primal about the way he’s tracking every move, every touch, between me and his friend.

Smirky spins me around, pressing my back against his chest. Fingers grazing under my breasts, I’m surrounded by his warmth and his woodsy, masculine scent.

It’s making my head swim.

“You know,” he growls, lips brushing along my neck. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

My gaze flicks back to Broody, who, eyes on me, sets his empty glass down on the bar. Our eyes lock, and something akin to understanding sparks, oozing challenge and invitation.

“Oh, yeah?” I barely manage to get the words out.

“Yup,” he confirms, gliding his hands back over my thighs as he grinds against my ass.

Holy, fuck. He’s hard.

Arousal floods my core as Broody pushes off the bar. I swear the crowd seems to part for him as he takes his time heading our way. One eyebrow arched, he never breaks eye contact, keeping his gaze fixed solely on me.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I track his approach. His presence alone commands attention. Wearing a dark T-shirt, tight jeans mold to muscular thighs, and his black hair is slightly disheveled.

Without hesitation, he steps up, sandwiching me between the two of them, their bodies creating a cocoon of heat while Smirky smooths a thumb across a bare patch of my stomach.

Broody’s eyes drop to my lips.

A chuckle rumbles from behind. “Two for the price of one. You game?”

Broody’s eyes snap up. Narrowing his gaze, he gives his friend a subtle shake of his head.

Resigned, Smirky’s sigh brushes along my temple, making me shiver. “Looks like my time is up. Maybe I’ll see you around, Pretty.”

Giving my waist one last squeeze, his heat is gone in an instant, leaving me standing in the middle of the dance floor with a pair of the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen blazing down at me.

five

No matter how long I stare, it doesn’t change the fact that the angel from the strip club is out there swaying sensually on the dance floor.

Arms above her head, she swivels her hips to the erotic beat, white-blonde hair shining under the colorful flashing lights.