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I chose a red floor-length gown, slit high from mid-thigh all the way down. It's also completely backless.

My hair cascades in loose curls down my back, all the way to my ass, and I’ve matched my lipstick and heels to the same shade of deep red.

Oh, and let’s not forget the tattoo on my shoulder, a pair of full red lips.

Good luck, Sierra. You’re going to need it.

Downstairs, Nick is facing away from the staircase, talking on the phone. He hears my footsteps before he sees me. And when he turns, he remains completely still.

That’s the exact reaction I was hoping for.

“I need to go, man. Talk to you later,” he says into the phone, hanging up and sliding it into his pocket without looking away.

“Fuck, Sierra.” He runs a hand down his face, clearly trying to get a grip. “I think this is my default reaction when it comes to you.” He groans, slower this time. “You look drop-dead gorgeous. I have no other words to describe you right now, and even these don’t do you justice.”

His attention makes me nervous and hot again, but I can’t let him see it.

“Aw, Nickolas Hardy speechless. How sweet.”

I walk toward him, smile wide and fake, and hold out my hand like this is just another night out.

“Let’s go, Nick. Let’s have some fun.”

TEN

Nick

Fun? I’m not having fun at all.

The only thing I want is to grab Sierra’s hand, drag her back to my place, and do to her all the things her brothers would kill me for.

I have a type—and she’s a thousand percent it.

We arrived at the Gala thirty minutes ago. She was on the phone the entire ride here, and I took the opportunity to clear my mind.

As expected, the press was over the moon to see me with a woman. Flashbulbs popped like fireworks, and the hum of reporters calling my name was constant. They asked all the usual questions, and we were careful to hint at something going on between the two of us, but we didn’t confirm a relationship.

Now we’re seated at the table with my teammates, and Sierra’s hand rests on my lap, her fingers warm and teasing. I try my best to play it cool, but if she moves her hand two centimeters higher, she’ll feel my hard cock. I can’t help it, and I gave up trying to control my reaction to her.

Her perfume—vanilla and something undeniably her—fills the space around us, making it even harder to think straight.

“Nick, you took us by surprise,” Ella says, disdain evident in her tone. Her voice cuts through the haze Sierra has me in, dragging me back to reality. “We didn’t know you have a girlfriend.”

She’s Samantha’s friend and plus-one for the Gala apparently. But I have no clue why they’re seated at our table. I’m sure their seats are supposed to be somewhere else.

I raise my eyebrows, my expression bored. But I feel Sierra tensing beside me, and I curse myself for it.

“Fiancée,” I correct her. “And it’s okay, now you know.”

I grin at her, then drop my head on Ser’s shoulder and kiss her tattoo—a tattoo that drives me crazy. At this rate, everything about her is pushing me closer to the edge of sanity.

“Fiancée? But how long have you two been together?” she asks.

And from the look on her face, I know exactly what her next words will be.

“I really hope you weren’t together two months ago when you fucked Samantha.” With fake concern, she turns to Sierra and adds, “Sorry, babe, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m confused.”

“Oh, no. He didn’t fuck her. He was out-of-this-world drunk. You can say she fucked him. And that screams desperate, babe,” Aiden answers, voice cool and steady, before I can form a coherent thought.