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“Daniel,” I said. “Daniel Michaelson.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Daniel
Sara had a decent poker face, I could give her that, but even she couldn’t quite hide the widening of her eyes or the sharp rise and fall of her chest. She’d come looking for a way in, a stooge, and instead, she’d hit the jackpot.Now what?I wondered.
“You own the club?” She asked, a beat later.
“More than that,” I said and sauntered forward. “You know what that name means.” I memorized the lines of her face and willed her to walk away with this knowledge. To realize that she’d flown too close to the sun. “You’re too smart not to.”
Maybe I could scare her off.
“Fuck that noise,” Sara said, and I choked. “If you were trying to intimidate me, Daniel, you shouldn’t have given me cake.”
Again, I couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on my face, and Sara gave me a satisfied smirk. “No wonder you were able to take care of Zakary so quickly.”
I inclined my head. “Happy to take out the trash for you anytime, beautiful.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Ah, apologies, my goddess.”
Sara let out a hiccup of laughter and swatted me. “I’ll handle it—but thanks.”
I nodded, then reached back to pick up my whiskey, and debated what to do next. I had enough information. I could get her to go home and take it from there. Scare her off, or fuck with her computer, or…
“What is it?” She asked, interrupting my thoughts, and I looked up to see her frowning at me. I realized I’d drifted off into my thoughts. “What’s that look?”
I sighed and half-shrugged. “It was nice meeting you, Sara, but I think I should go.”
Sara stepped closer to me as I went to walk forward and we almost collided. “Why?”
My jaw twitched. “You know why.”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “What I do know is that you wanted to ask me to dance but lost your nerve and pretended it was some kindof cool, aloof gangster reason.” She tilted her face up. “Or can’t dance.”
A million responses came into my head, my jaw tensing, as I fought something between amusement and irritation. Finally, I took another sip of my whiskey, savoring it, and asked, “You want to dance?”
Sara snagged my whiskey before I could blink and downed it. I watched as she gave me a glittering look, placing the glass down with a deliberate clank on the counter behind me, and said, “Yes. With you, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear, Daniel.”
“Now it is,” I said. “You don’t want to leave or have me get you a car?”
She stepped back and struck a pose, tossing her head. “And let this outfit—these shoes go to waste? My empire-crushing stilettos?”
“You make a good point,” I said and gestured at the door. “Lead the way.”
Sara sashayed away and I grinned to myself, then winked at her when she glanced back at the door. To my surprise, she laughed and reached for my hand, pulling me through. The noise and dimness took over, my grip tightening on her as we re-entered the dance floor and the crowds pressed around us. In the time we’d been gone, the energy seemed to have become even more frenetic and carnal, the music snaking into my blood and all around us, bodies writhing, stomping, let loose.
A sultry reggaeton beat pulsed around us as Sara wove through the crowd, before finding a spot where we wouldn’t be crushed, and turned to me. Our eyes met, despite the flashing lights and shadows, and we both let go at the same time, stepping closer together. We began to dance, teasing and brushing, my hand almost on her waist, her hand catching my shoulder or arm, and then a little more.
I began to lose track of time, song blending into another song, watching Sara. I didn’t get to dance often but I wasn’t half bad, especially when a beautiful woman moved around me, also giving into the music, and together we forgot the world around us.
We all but crashed together at the drop of one song into another, the crowd shouting around us, but we were both still, her breasts brushing against my chest, her hand curled on my shoulder, and my hand loose on her waist, and our faces inches apart. I went to reach for her face and hesitated, but then another song started, slower and sexier, and Sara’s eyes flashed.
Next thing I knew, Sara had spun and pressed her body up against me, her ass flush against my half-hard cock, writhing and moving as though she knew exactly what I’d always craved. My hands dug into the side of her waist, my body following hers, and my cheek pressed into the side of her head.
Unable to resist, I leaned down and asked, “So, how am I?” She half-tilted her head back, glancing at me, and I laughed in her ear, enjoying the full-body shiver I felt against me. “At dancing.”
“Not bad, Dan, not bad,” Sara said.
“Danny,” I said in her ear.
