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Allyson winked. “Only if you let it be,” she said, before she returned to her work.
Frankie wasn’t certain drinking was the answer to her problems, but she grew a little more relaxed with each sip. A little less worried.
She quickly finished her glass, then ordered herself another, vaguely aware that it probably wasn’t wise, but it was her club, her pack’s business. Who was there to stop her from having a little fun?
She was already well into her second by the time she thought that maybe she should have a little chat with her bartender about if she used Fae magic to liven up the club’s drinks. But at the moment, Frankie was having too much fun to care.
She made her way out onto the dance floor, losing herself in the music's pulse and the sea of writhing bodies. Frankie danced like she hadn’t in years, pulling out every move in her past repertoire until she could feel the music in each sway of her hips, each gyrating beat.
Her vision blurred and she stumbled slightly, giggling as she collided with some cougar shifter out on the dance floor...Or was he a panther? She couldn’t be certain.
She laughed uproariously, slurring her words as she attempted to apologize to him. But she hadn’t thought about or seen Jace in hours. She hadn’t even looked for him.
Until a large hand gripped one of her hips.
“Okay, Princess,” Jace grumbled, low against her ear. “That’s enough.”
“Hey, man. We were just—”
Jace’s eyes were liquid fury. “Beat it,” he growled.
The cougar-panther went pale, before quickly scurrying off to another part of the dance floor. Frankie turned toward Jace then, swaying a bit.
“Why are you...” She poked at his chest. “Spoiling. My. Fun?” It was like poking at bricks, he was so stacked.
She giggled.
His face all seriousness—which wasn’t that a drag?—Jace plucked the half-drained martini glass from her hand and sniffed it. He wrinkled his nose. “What’s in this?”
Frankie waved a dismissive hand, swaying with the music. “Hell if I know.”
“Allyson and I are going to have a little talk.” Jace wrapped an arm around Frankie’s waist, drawing her to him. He led her through the club as she strutted along with him, working to keep up her balance.
“Where is Allys-son?” she slurred. “I need another drink.”
“Her shift ended, thankfully.” Jace slid the martini glass he’d confiscated from her across the bartop. “And, no. You don’t.”
Frankie stuck out her lower lip and pouted, but she couldn’t tell whether or not he’d noticed. The room and the patrons were going by in a spinning, colorful blur. The firm pressure of Jace’s arm around her waist, his hand on her hip, her only anchor.
He led her to the stairs. She stumbled several times once they were firmly out of sight of the patrons, before suddenly she was in his arms, being carried like she was some damsel-in-distress.
“Now I reallyama princess,” she giggled, then hiccuped.
Jace’s lips curled in mild amusement, his touch and his care for her tender. The next thing Frankie knew, she was deposited on top of the desk in her office. Her high-heels kicked off her feet. She groaned in ecstasy at the feeling of her toes finally escaping those godawful gorgeous shoes.
Jace swore, biting his lip.
She wiggled them with another little moan. “Why won’t the world stop turning?” she whined to no one in particular.
Jace didn’t bother to answer her. Instead, he turned to close the door.
Frankie didn’t know why, but she suddenly felt hot all over her. Like she was ready to burst out of her skin, or her clothes, at least. She slipped down the little minidress she wore, the one she’d changed into earlier. It’d been a poor attempt at catching his attention, but apparently, it hadn’t worked. She kicked off the dress, thankful she was wearing nothing underneath, save for the very sheer lingerie he’d bought her, just as Jace turned back toward her.
“Christ,” he swore as the door latched. “You don’t make anything easy, do you, Frankie?” Her eyes darted to the strain of his fly, that impressive bulge against his jeans.
She fanned herself with her hand, leaning back onto her desk. “I don’t know what you mean.” She sighed. Now that she wasn’t dancing, she was magically tired, dizzy.
A second later, the door burst open and Rock suddenly stepped in, his eyes instantly falling to her nearly naked form. Jace growled slightly, though nudity wasn’t as secretive among shifters.
