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“Here, here,” we all say before downing our drinks.
“Now let’s dance.” Erin slides from her seat and tilts precariously to the left. Grabbing her arm, I steady her.
“Maybe we should stay sitting,” I suggest as Emma, Chelsie, and JJ head to the dance floor.
“Pffft.” She slaps my hand away and turns to follow. “There will be no sitting,” she declares before turning back to me and whispering, “But cut me off. I plan on having the best sex of my life tonight, and I want to remember it.”
Shaking my head, I push her forward. “I did not need to know that.”
“Jacob has a huge cock.”
“I really didn’t need to know that.”
She winks, links her fingers with mine, and spins toward the dance floor. “Come dance with me, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
I shake my head. “No.” I laugh when she waggles her eyebrows. “You go dance. I have to find the little girls’ room.”
“Fine,” she says. “But then you’ll come dance and I can tell you all about his giant—”
I slap a hand across her mouth. “How about you point me to the bathroom, and then I’ll come back and dance. But no talk about Jacob’s appendages.”
She pushes my hand away. “You’re no fun,” she huffs, pointing toward the back corner of the bar. “Bathrooms are down that hallway on the right.” She shakes her head. “No, the left. Hell, I don’t remember. They’re down there.”
“Be right back.” I head toward the back, not at all hoping to catch a glimpse of Rex.
“Rex.”
“Yeah?” I mumble, my eyes still locked on the exotic, screaming-orgasm-loving, penis-wielding stranger I just encountered.
Only she isn’t a stranger. We’ve met. How could I forget? She knocked me on my fucking ass—figuratively—outside a strip club.
I’ve always been drawn to a certain type of woman. Tall, but not taller than me. Blonde. Nice big tits. I’m greedy by nature, so less than an overflowing handful is a waste of my time. And this woman is none of those things. She’s easily a foot shorter than me, and if I had to guess, a 32B. Her dark hair is a curtain of silk that entices a man to wrap his hand around it. Her eyes catch the light in a way that evokes dominance but softness as well. I’ve never really had a soft side, but she makes me wish I did. Because a woman like her isn’t looking for some quick fuck in the bathroom. A woman like her needs far more than that.
“Would you look at me?”
Pulling my gaze from the stranger, I look at Liza. “What’s up?”
“There are a few things I need to talk to you about. Mind if we go to your office?”
I glance back toward the woman as she sits down next to a man. He drapes an arm around her shoulder and says something to her before kissing her cheek, and any hope I had of taking her home and fucking her senseless flies right out the window. It also explains why she turned down my dinner offer the first time we met. I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed.
I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, a lot of stuff I regret, but even I have a line drawn in the sand.
Murder? Out of the question.
Drugs? Won’t touch them.
Cheating on a woman? Not my style.
And last but not least, I never fuck a woman who’s already involved.
There’s a lot of temptation with owning a club like Vault. Women of all shapes and sizes are at my fingertips night and day. But I refuse to touch a woman who’s taken.
And this one is clearly taken.
With a sigh, I turn toward Liza. “Let’s go.”
She follows me to my office and collapses into a chair across from my desk. “It’s been a long-ass day,” she says, toeing off her heels.
