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Killian had yet to move. It was unsettling, especially since he didn’t look angry anymore. He looked pensive as if he was deciding what to do.

He took a deep breath, ran his hand through his hair, and bowed his head. “Don’t know what to do here, orchid.”

I gasped, hearing the nickname he’d given me in high school.

If he heard me, he didn’t give me any indication he did as he continued, “You’re good. Fuck, you owned that cage tonight… mesmerizing.” He paused then slowly raised his head and locked eyes with me. “To me and a hundred other guys.”

“Uh, thanks?” I kept my tone quiet because maybe, just maybe, it would help my case.

“But like I said before, you can’t work here.”

I gritted my teeth. “Why are you being this way? It’s just a job.”

He stiffened. “You don’t belong in a nightclub, Savvy.”

I hadn’t seen him in eleven years. He had no idea where I did or didn’t belong. “Whether I do or don’t, that’s my choice, Killian.” I hardened my tone. “I like it here. And I like the other girls.”

“I’m glad. But it’s still no.”

Shit. I was nervous about working at the other clubs. I didn’t know the owners or the rules, and the club district wasn’t the safest. But I might not have a choice. “I didn’t realize you had such a strong dislike for me, Killian.” I started for the door. “I’ll find another club.”

“You’re not working in another club either.”

I froze.

He strode toward me, and I inched back until my heels banged into the wall. When he was a foot away, he stopped, but it was close enough that his scent drifted into me and my belly whooshed.

I hadn’t had many people in my life tell me what I could and couldn’t do. And Killian saying I couldn’t work at any nightclub… that pissed me off. “If I can’t work here, I am.”

“Like hell.”

His expression was angry again, eyes dark, jaw clamped and even though he was scary looking, he was still sexy, and that softened the scariness—mildly.

“You don’t have a say.”

“You’re not dancing in a nightclub, orchid.”

I stiffened as a red flare went off inside me. “Don’t call me that.”

“You’re orchid to me. Always have been. That shit doesn’t change.”

“Well, I want it known that I don’t like the name.”

He had the nerve to grin. Grin. The heart-melting grin that turned me into a puddle of goo. “I know you liked it then and you like it now. You’re flustered and have that pink glow to your cheeks. It makes your freckles stick out.”

I did, and it infuriated me that I loved that he had a nickname for me that no one else called me. But no way was I admitting that. Killian had enough confidence to scale Mount Everest without knowing I liked his nickname.

He stepped closer, and I held my breath knowing if I inhaled, my breasts would brush against his chest.

From the twitch of his lips, the spark in his eyes, he knew exactly what I felt when my breasts brushed his. If he tilted his head down, he’d see my erect nipples pressed into my tight black sparkled top. He’d also see the goose bumps that had popped up on every inch of my body.

I was praying he couldn’t hear my heart thumping like crazy or see my pulse throbbing in my neck.

He did. “You okay, Savvy? You look a little… rattled.”

There was the urge to tell him to go fuck himself, but it wouldn’t help my case at all, and I rarely said anything so mean. “I’m fine. But I’ve been sweating for the last four hours. Need a shower and would like to go home.” I paused then added, “With a job.”

He growled low in his throat, the amused grin fading. “You know I can’t do that.”

I crossed my arms so at least his chest hit them instead of my breasts. “I don’t know. All I’ve heard is no without reason. You even said I looked good out there. Why won’t you let me dance here?”

“Jesus,” he muttered as he turned away, took two steps and then came back. This time he didn’t stop a foot away. This time he kept coming until he pressed against me. Until I had every inch of his delicious rock-hard body against mine and his hand fisted in my hair at the back of my neck.

Oh, God.

“This is why, orchid,” he said, just before his mouth slammed onto mine. My head would’ve hit the wall with the force of his kiss if he hadn’t been holding my head.

Any thought of resisting eradicated as his mouth claimed mine, roaming, searching and reigniting something that had been sampled but not fully discovered eleven years ago.

His grip on my hair tightened almost painfully, and I moaned into his mouth. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I did.

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