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I barked out a laugh but my attention was caught—literally caught—in the gaze of a gorgeous man with thick chocolate hair, making him appear much more approachable than the scowl marring his beautiful features. He was all man, tall and lean with a purposeful stride that reminded me a lot of two of my uncles, Golden Boy and Wheeler. He had that kind of powerful air about him and I couldn’t look away.
“Oh boy, here we go again.” Bonnie’s tone pulled my attention but my gaze followed the man around the VIP section. He could be meeting someone, possibly a female someone, but the way his gaze kept shifting to mine and then away, said otherwise.
“We’re not going anywhere, except to the bar for another drink and then back to the dance floor.”
“I’ve seen that look you get when you’ve lasered in on a target. That guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “While I appreciate the vote of confidence, there’s a good chance that hottie is looking for someone of the not me variety.” It really was too bad because he was sex on a stick. Muscles that looked as lethal as that thousand-yard stare and I could see hints of ink under his gray Henley, another thing that made him stand out in a club filled with twenty-something men who were more stylish than the women who’d gone all out to stand out.
“Looks more like the exactly you variety,” she grumbled and tugged me off the dance floor. “Another drink?”
“Yes, please. Your Bahama Mama looked good. I’ll have one of those but no virgin drink for me, just the slutty kind,” I told her and made my way to the bathroom to freshen up.
Nothing was more relaxing than shaking my ass to a sweet beat, but damn, it highlighted how much I needed to add some cardio to my life. Just thinking of cardio turned my thoughts back to sex, which I’d been without for far too long, and that got me thinking about the hottie in the Henley. Again.
He was the kind of hot that made a girl do stupid things without thinking twice about it. He was the kind of dangerous and delicious combination that usually ended in a true crime documentary, but damn, what a way to go! Okay, that sounded kind of crazy and desperate and I was neither of those things. But growing up around burly bikers made it hard to find college boys anything but playthings.
But that guy, he was all man.
And likely taken, so I ignored the couple making out in the corner other than to notice we had on similar blue tops and stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. I could really use a shower and a change of clothes after all this dancing, but I made do with a quick face rinse and a makeup touchup and hoped for the best.
“Men are such dicks!” The brunette stomped in and I realized she was the one going at it hard with Man Bun in the corner.
“Tell me about it sister. When will they get those sexy male robots for us? Then we wouldn’t need the real thing.” I laughed.
She flashed a grin that made her blue eyes pop and I noticed we looked alike. A lot alike. “Maybe that’s what I should invest my money in instead of wasting my time on guys who think a kiss means a free fuck.”
Man did I sympathize with her, and that was another problem I had with the youngish dudes. They had absolutely no chill and couldn’t take rejection for shit. “Should we promise him a threesome and beat his ass in the alley?”
That pulled a genuine laugh from the woman and she shook her head. “No, but thanks for the offer.”
I slicked some color across my lips and blotted them with a smile. “Girl power and all that. I hope your night improves,” I told her and followed a group of women out of the bathroom. They chatted and giggled about their night, and I felt a pair of eyes on me so I stopped, waiting for someone to pass.
Nothing.
I kept walking but then felt the heat of someone behind me and got ready to turn and tell whatever dirtbag that thought he could press all up on me to get his ass lost. But before I could, there was a sharp pain in my neck and everything went black.
CHAPTER THREE
Virgil
The wrong fucking girl. I grabbed the wrong fucking girl like it was my first day on the job, green and eager to prove myself. What. The. Fuck. And now I stood before my boss, my mother, trying to figure out how to explain what had happened. “That’s not Savannah Rhymer.”
“No shit.” Sadie sat upright behind the massive desk in what she called her salon because offices were for crooks, and she was a businesswoman. “She might be a dead ringer for the bitch, but that’s not her. Care to explain?”
