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“What if I said, ‘yes’?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “It wouldn’t shock me.” Half of Trouble’s residents were involved in untraditional relationships.
“You think that’s funny?”
“I’ll explain why later,” he promised, taking her hand and leading her through the throng of club patrons.
They were almost to the place where the carpet and parquet flooring met when Nicholas noticed six fellas rushing into the club, looking around frantically and then breaking off in pairs. He quickly scanned the area. It only took him a second to realize they were looking for someone.
Behind him, Sable pulled him back to the dance floor. “I love this song!” She thrust her arms in the air, twirled around and around, and returned to the center of the crowd.
“Fuck.” To Nicholas’s knowledge, he’d never tried to keep the beat with a faster tune. Still, he followed her, which should’ve been the kind of warning with blaring alarms. By the time he was in front of her, he was working his hips, snapping his fingers, and acting all cool.
If the guys could see him now, he’d wear that two-letter emblem Allister proudly wore—P.W. and maybe that’s where he was heading. After all, he had been the last man standing out of the five. He’d waited for her there in the club as if they’d discussed permanent plans.
“I knew you’d show!” he yelled, smiling at her as her head bobbed side to side and she thrust her hips one way and then the other.
“You didn’t!” She crooked her finger and backed into a dark corner.
Of course he followed her.
“You’re feeling frisky tonight.”
She disappeared behind a burgundy curtain and he ducked his head and went there, too, realizing she was leading him somewhere more private. He hoped like hell this gal wasn’t up to something that would later come back and bite him.
There were six big dudes poking around the club. Considering Trouble’s founding fathers weren’t exactly Tennessee’s favorite sons, he had reason to pay attention.
Sable turned around and threw her arms around his neck. Without any kind of preamble or small talk, she leapt forward, bracketing her legs around his hips and smothering him with the hottest kiss he’d ever received.
Her tongue swirled around his. Her fingers skimmed his waist. She tugged his shirt free of his belt and then went for his snap and zipper.
“God bless, woman!” His cock shot forward, growing rigid in length and wet at the tip. He wanted her bare. He wanted to ride her like there was no tomorrow and fuck her right there without protection, but he knew better.
He might have known better but it didn’t change his desires.
Sable’s mouth hovered over his ear. “Don’t worry. I’m protected.”
Her breathlessness was a turn-on and her touch was downright hypnotic, but he couldn’t shake the building angst. Why had she wanted him off the dance floor and out of sight? As much as he’d love to believe her raunchy appetite for his cock had been the reason, he was pretty sure the men who had entered the club had a lot to do with her desire to scoot.
Her hands were busy again. “I’m safe. Promise.”
“What if I’m not?” Fuck. Now he was his own cock-block.
She stilled.
That was one way to slam on the brakes.
She dragged her fingers through her hair and stared at him blankly. “Are you testing me?”
“Testing you? Why would I—“ He stopped midsentence. He wasn’t one to play games. “Who were those six tough guys, Sable?”
“What are you talking about?” She dove forward for a kiss, a telling sign since she’d recently punched the pause button and halted everything.
Nicholas grabbed her upper arms and held her away from him then. “Tell me about the men out there. Are they looking for you?”
“Why would they be looking for me?”
“Are you married?”
