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Michael shook his head as Nick grabbed Lila’s hips with the subtlety of a bear with a trout. She shoved at him, but when Michael looked back a moment later, she was whispering in his ear and he had both hands on her ass.

So much for Lila standing firm.

Michael kept going. Speaking of firm, apparently alcohol made him horny, or else he still hadn’t come down from the stage. Below his waist, he had a situation going on. A serious one, just from the possibility that Chloe might be there. He had no way of knowing if she would be. She could’ve gone home for the night. Maybe even hopped a plane back to her kid.

Babies everywhere. He just wanted to practice. A lot.

Hell, he should get Chloe’s digits from L. His stepmother would love that. Assuming she glanced away from Nick long enough to care.

Michael did a quick visual search for Ry or West, but they’d both disappeared. Likely together, since West tended to drag Ry out on the hunt. Michael preferred to do his thing solo. Fewer witnesses. Fewer people to tell him to rein it in, or throttle back. He just wanted to let loose and celebrate after pulling out an improbable win. No one would get hurt.

At the bar, he smiled at the brunette waitress and ordered—what else—a whisky. Might as well keep the theme going. Handily, he could take care of his own refills.

And shit, he was clearly feeling it already if he was laughing at his own lame jokes.

The song changed to something with an undulating club beat, the kind that made people get up and dance. He sipped his whisky and surveyed the crowd, ignoring the hopeful smiles he received from a few of the women, all dressed in their Saturday night best.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew he appealed to the opposite sex, which was handy since they damn sure appealed to him.

At the moment, he only wanted one. Fiery red hair and big eyes and full lips, meant for sucking…things. He was a gentleman until he’d had a few more drinks, so she could pick the appendage she wanted to start with.

He already knew he’d go right for what was between her thighs. Why save dessert until after dinner?

“Hey honey, you looking for some fun?”

“Yes,” he admitted, glancing at the woman who’d wound her arm through his. “Just not with—” He cleared his throat as her eyes shuttered. “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”

“You’re with the band, aren’t you?”

“Which one?”

“Any of them.” She pinched his biceps through his jacket. “Who would keep you waiting?”

He smiled and started to answer, but a flash of red caught his eye. Those curls stood out even in a swanky place with women who had hair color of every shade. Somehow Chloe had trapped flames inside each strand.

Then again, he was pretty drunk.

Still, he recognized the waves bouncing down her back. Knew that rounded ass in a tight skirt, moving in self-conscious circles. She had nothing to be shy about. A woman that beautiful should be worshipped.

A task he’d be ha

ppy to take on for a night or a lifetime.

“Gotta go,” he said to his admirer, pressing his whisky into her hand. “Here, enjoy. I didn’t spike it,” he tossed over his shoulder.

He wasn’t going up to Chloe with a drink in his hand. Hell, he was already loaded enough. If she wanted to drink and party, he was on-board, but he had to try to collect the last of his remaining wits to bring this one all the way home.

She was dancing by herself, gripping one of the gold wrap-around bars that ringed part of the dance floor. Men kept circling close to her but she flicked them off with a word and a smile, making those glorious curls shimmer with each movement. When one persistent guy cupped her hip, Michael grunted in his throat and stepped up behind her.

“She’s mine,” he said, surprised that it felt true.

They hadn’t just met, but they were virtually strangers. And they hadn’t met in this space, on this night. They hadn’t talked or been close enough that when she glanced at him over her shoulder, he could see the fringe of eyelashes shadowing her cheek. Beneath her makeup, she had freckles. Just the barest dusting of them on her nose, and over the dark bow of her mouth.

The other guy mumbled something and vanished into the crowd.

Michael brushed closer, sliding his hand over her waist until it rested low on her belly. So low that he could stretch his fingers and feel the rise of her mound under her skirt.

But above her waistband, she was bare. Midriff exposed, revealing all that warm, silky skin.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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