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And suddenly, our mouths are colliding and all thoughts of strip clubs fade as our tongues entwine.
Groaning, I melt into him, letting him deepen the kiss as my head swims, and he steals the breath from my lungs better than two fingers of whiskey could.
What is it about this man that makes me feeleverything? That makes me forget the world?
When he raises his head, his eyes are narrowed upon mine. “One drink.” He scans the area. “You stay close to me or your ass will regret it later.”
Shocked into stillness by his delicious threat, I gape at him.
“Understood? Belle!”
I swallow and quickly agree, “Yes, I understand.” Is it bad that I’m almost tempted to misbehave…?
Taking my hand, we walk over to the bouncer who’s sitting on a chair.
“Hey, man.” The bouncer nods and lets us in, not even asking for ID. My arms pebble with goosebumps because that’s weird. I mean, does he know Cade? I guess he could be a regular…
“Do you know that bouncer?” I yell over “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” The smell of stale alcohol and smoke makes me wrinkle my nose as Cade’s hand squeezes mine tight.
“No,” he answers, but he’s lying. I might be under the influence, but that bouncer definitely knew Cade.
“What do you do again?” I shout over the music then almost run into his back as he stops and looks down at me, cocking his head as if he’s going to say something but instead guides me to a table by the stage.
“Cade?”
“I told you already,” he answers calmly, holding out the chair for me to sit.
Wait, what did he say he did…? Something weird. My drunk brain isn’t firing on all cylinders, though, so I don’t remember.
A waitress in black walks up. “What can I get you?” She smiles and I can tell she has no idea who Cade is because a guy this fine in a place like this? They’d be drooling over him and going the extra mile to get great tips.
God, maybe he didn’t know the bouncer and I’m being paranoid after spending years with the Disciples. Those guys are ridiculous when it comes to stuff like this. You can’t even enjoy an impromptu dinner without having everyone in the restaurant checked out.
Yeah, that has to be it. I’m overly sensitive.
“Isabelle?”
I blink. “Um, let’s see. I think we need two shots of Jameson and two root beer chasers.” The waitress nods, writing it on a napkin, then swishes away, which is when I take a moment to study the seedy club.
It’s a small venue, with only the one stage, a bar, and a few booths and tables.
“Root beer chasers?” Cade questions with a laugh, lifting an eyebrow and placing a possessive hand on the back of my chair.
“I love root beer,” I tell him simply.
A glance at the stage reveals a woman twirling around a pole. She’s got a heavy tan and is wearing what appears to be a silver bikini—either that or it’s aluminum foil.
The place isn’t full, and besides the stripper and waitress, I’m the only woman here. When I look at Cade, who’s wearing a big grin like he can read my mind, I wrinkle my nose.
“Not what you expected?” he teases.
“Not really. When I mentioned ‘stripper,’ I was thinking…”
The waitress comes back, interrupting us as she sets down the shots and the root beers.
“I need a private room.” He hands her a hundred.
“Of course, room three is available.” Her eyes widen when he hands her another hundred. “Can you look after our suitcases?”
