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The argument from two days ago in his office was all but forgotten now that he knew where I stood, and that I wouldn’t talk to the detective about anything.
When he leaned in to brush his lips across my cheek, I got a whiff of him and his cologne, and I could’ve inhaled him all night.
He had a drink waiting for me, but I shook my head. I couldn’t drink if I wanted to stay sharp, and I wanted to stay sharp. Already my adrenaline had given me a case of the shakes. Adrenaline and anticipation were powerful together.
But Roman was persistent and held out the drink again. “Take it.” And then he leaned closer and lowered his voice to a hot whisper. “We aren’t killing anyone tonight.” I took the glass tumbler, and he curled his fingers into my hip. “There’s already too much heat on the club and the Society.”
Disappointment ached through me. I might as well have stayed in my jeans and hoodie. “Then why am I dressed like Rich Bitch Barbie?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I have a fight tonight and after, I might need you to back me up.”
Providing backup might satisfy that little portion of my soul that ached for adventure. A little danger wouldn’t have hurt, either.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He grinned at me. “I like when you’re agreeable.”
I shook my head, laughing because he wasn’t a very good liar. Not about this, anyway. “No, you don’t.”
His smile was my reward. “No, I don’t.” Roman in a tuxedo, smug-smiling, holding a drink like he didn’t have a care in the world was so hot I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. He leaned in, sniffed and nuzzled the hollowed juncture of my throat, his breath warm against my skin. “But I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
I turned, took his drink, set it on the table next to mine, then wrapped my arms around his neck. “You can get me any way you want me.” I pulled his head down and kissed him. Hard. Desperate. And he was fucking delicious.
After a few long, delicious moments, he pulled back and smiled down at me. “We should go.” His grin was slow, predatory in a way I couldn’t resist. This man had moves. Enticing. Delicious. Danger was my passion and he exuded it.
“And after the fight? After I back you up at whatever it is we’re doing after?” I wanted some dirty talk, some promises.
He dragged his finger over my shoulder where the skin was bare except for one thin strap of fabric. “After… we can come back here, I’ll take you upstairs, strip off this little black dress”—His gaze smoldered as he drew away enough to look me up and down—“and I’ll lick your pussy until you’re quivering and whimpering…”
“I don’t whimper.” Hadn’t yet. Didn’t plan to start, but certain things with Roman, I couldn’t control. Didn’t want to control. And we both knew I whimpered.
“Sounds like a challenge to me.” He cocked his head. “You know how I like a good challenge.”
“Yeah.” I kissed him like I might never get to again. When we pulled away, I whimpered because the kiss ended and because I wanted him to know there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here before I skip the fight and drag you upstairs now.” He waggled his eyebrows and I giggled—ugh—and slid my fingers through his. “But later… you’re going to be whimpering.” He grinned. “A lot.”
He drove us to Hades and disappeared while I waited at the bar for the fight to start. The place—upstairs—was at max capacity and more people waited outside. When I walked downstairs, it was like Vegas with the lights and the bet takers.
Roman came out first, and he was a sight to behold. Muscular. Ripped. Focused. It was the focus that lit my fire. The single-minded determination to destroy his opponent. I smiled. The other guy came out, leering like he had a chance in this fight.
The bell rang and Roman burst from his corner swinging. He was a machine. Lefts. Rights. Uppercuts. Kicks. Blood spattered. Skin opened. And Roman backed off when it was time to end it. He let the guy bounce back for a second.
I understood the logic. There was no joy in a win when it was so one-sided. And this wasn’t a guy who was playing possum. He legit didn’t belong in that ring with Roman.
Roman let the guy have a few swings, took a kick to the side, then he swung a left, and three quick right jabs reopened the cut over the guy’s right eye. I watched as the blood trickled, the stream of red descending down his face. A left hook swung him around and the opponent fell, and his head bounced off the mat.
A cheer went up through the crowd and I shoved my way through the throng of spectators to the ring. Roman came out of the far side and I hurried around. I tried to kiss him, but he held me off. “Hold on.”
He led me to his dressing room, which wasn’t much more than a shower, a table and a locker. When we were inside, he kissed me once. “Go, get a drink. I have to get ready for our assignment.”
My panties, if I’d been wearing any, would’ve dissolved. “Now, that’s whimper worthy.”
He grinned and turned me back toward the door, giving my ass a swat. “Go. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I inclined my head because he sent me off with a kiss.
As soon as I was out the door and walking down the hall, I had the strangest sensation of being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and my stomach churned. I continued walking. I scanned my surroundings, trying to make it seem casual, but every bone in my body was acutely aware.
