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I planted my hand on his shoulder, twisting in my seat to face him better. “Don’t react. He’d love it. He’d use it. That’s exactly why I haven’t given him a rollicking, verbal or otherwise. My guess is he hoped I’d tell you what he said and then you’d lose your shit and deck him so he could say ‘see, he’s violent’ or some crap like that. And then you’d probably lose your license. He isn’t worth that.”

Cole’s nostrils flared. “I wouldneverlay my hands on a woman,” he said, his voice low, deep, and cold.

This was averysore spot for him, I sensed. And it made me recall a rumor I’d once heard that Cole’s father, Leonard, could get physical when drunk. Just maybe there was some truth in it. “I believe you. I wouldn’t be here if I thought differently.”

The tension began to seep from his muscles. “I swear to Christ, Izzy, you’re safe with me.”

“Again, I believe you.”

A long breath left him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to postpone our … meetings until this stuff with Ryland has blown over?”

Cole’s brows snapped together. “I’m absolutely certain,” he assured me as he turned his body slightly toward mine, mirroring my position and draping one arm over the back of the booth. “I’m pissed,” he went on, splaying a possessive hand on my thigh. “But I’m not so pissed that I don’t clearly see what he’s doing. He can use whatever tactic he likes, he won’t make me distance myself from you.” Cole slid his hand around to myinner thigh and then slowly smoothed it up, up, up. “Or from this pussy.”

I held back a gasp as fingertips grazed my folds through my underwear. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to prove that,” I said, all sorts of sexual implications in my tone. “I say we head to the private room you booked so you can get started on that.”

His lips kicked up. “I can do that here.”

Wait, what?

He tugged the gusset of my underwear aside, baring my pussy to the cool air, and then danced the calloused pads of his fingers along my slit.

I almost jumped.

“Hmm, so soft and warm.” He dipped his head and nipped my bottom lip just as he lightly flicked my clit.

I sucked in a sharp breath, the muscles in my thighs bunching, and fisted the side of his shirt. Then his mouth took mine in a soft, lazy, shallow kiss that melted my bones and fired up my nerve-endings. All the while, he continued to idly play with my pussy.

I felt myself going damp. Felt my nipples tighten. Felt my skin heat.

He broke the kiss with a low growl. “You have such a bitable mouth. Especially that lower lip. Every time I look at it, I want to sink my teeth into it.”

Suddenly hyperconscious that someone could be watching us—the lounge’s lighting was fairly dim, but still—I was about to take a quick glance around, but he shook his head, clearly sensing it.

“Look at me,” he ordered, tangling his free hand in my curls. “Only at me. I want your eyes while I touch you.”

His fingers circled, rubbed, and lightly plucked at my clit. Not wanting to draw anyone’s attention, I tried keeping still, tried not to moan aloud … but it became harder and harder.

“If anyone takes a good look at us, they’ll guess what I’m doing to you right now,” he said, his lips pressed to mine. “I want them to know. I want them to get that this pussy is mine now.”

My breath caught in my throat as he drove a finger inside me. My throbbing inner muscles clamped down on it almost desperately.

“I wasn’t originally going to suggest an arrangement,” he continued, skillfully pumping his finger in and out of me at a maddeningly slow pace. “Boxing takes up most of my time, so I like simplicity in other areas of my life. But I don’t like that men here think they can hit on you.” He shoved a second finger inside me.

Oh, heavenly Jesus. My head would have fallen back if his hand wasn’t still bunched in my hair, holding my head steady.

“I don’t want anyone else touching you. And I have no interest in touching any woman but you.”

I jumped as the pads of his fingers rubbed my sweet spot deep inside me. Oh God, I needed more. So much more. But he seemingly wanted to bloody talk, and it was getting more and more difficult for me to follow the conversation. It was only really the darkly possessive note in his tone that kept my attention on his words—it hit me right in my core.

“We’ll keep the arrangement simple, yes? No demands. No expectations. No dates. But it will be exclusive, and that exclusivity will extend to outside the club as well.” He swirled the fingers inside me. “You on board with all that?”

On board? I wasall overthis proposal—playing with him once or twice wouldn’t have been enough for me. I nodded, but he flicked up a brow … as if the movement alone wasn’t enough. “I’m on board.”

His eyes glinting with approval, he added a third finger andoh fuckthat felt good. “Next time, you’ll wear something red to signal that you’re claimed. And if anyone asks who you belongto, you’ll tell them it’s me. If anyone asks to buy you a drink, you’ll say no. If anyone tries to dance with you, you’ll tell them no. Won’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice thick with need.

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