Page 92 of Hearts Storm

“One…”

Annnd we’re off!

thirty-nine

Watching Reyna and Brex flirt and dance is driving me insane, but I can handle Brex’s shit.

The only thing I can’t handle, which is pissing me off, is the fact that he has his hands all over her and I don’t.

What I really want to do is go over there and smash her body between ours like we did at the club last year.

Talk about a scandal. The Mayor’s wife, Martha, would probably have a conniption, not to mention it would absolutely put my job in jeopardy.

All night I’ve been trying to keep my attention focused on whoever I’m speaking to, but I can’t for the life of me keep my eyes from straying to the angel in red on the dance floor.

As Martha drones on about the equipment budget or some shit, a flash of red catches my eye again, and I shift my gaze, only to see Reyna strolling up to Alan.

What the fuck?

Grinding my teeth, I clench my one empty fist in the pocket of my pants as he leads her onto the dance floor.

Pressing my lips together in frustration, I watch for a beat before I make up my mind.

Keeping Reyna in my sights, I extend my apologies to Martha, excuse myself and down the rest of my drink before making a beeline for Reyna like a bull zeroed in on a muleta in a bullfighting arena.

With every step I take, my blood pressure spikes another ten points. Alan’s hand is way too low on her back, fingers splayed wide across the exposed skin just above her ass. It makes me want to rip his arm clean out of its socket.

“I’m cutting in.” The words leave my lips in low, guttural growl, but I don’t give a shit.

Mine.

Startled, Alan looks up, dropping his hand like it’s been burned. “Uh, yeah. Sure thing, Cap.”

Practically shoving him out of the way, I slide my hand possessively around Reyna’s waist. The warmth of her skin against my palm sends heat rushing through my veins as I pull her in close.

“Logan.” Her voice is breathy, eyes wide with surprise.

“Angel.” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it.

Her skin is so freaking soft. Even with the goosebumps that pop under my palm when I tuck my hand under the side of her dress.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, breath warm against my neck as her chest rises and falls, pressing her tits more firmly against me.

“You said you’d save me a dance. I’m cashing in.”

“I did. Didn’t I?”

Our bodies mold together perfectly, as if they were always meant to.

“You look incredible,” I murmur, grazing my lips over her ear.

She shivers. “Thank you.”

My dick jumps in my pants.

I catch Brex watching us from the bar, a knowing smirk on his face. The bastard. Fucker planned this whole thing.

As we circle the room, I see Alan has set his sights on Melody, a bartender who works at The Brew.