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She ran her red-painted nails over his biceps, giving them a squeeze. “That’s sexy.”
“You work on bikes or cars?” the brunette to his left asked. He was pretty sure her name was Amanda.
“Cars mostly. But sometimes a hog or two.”
Emma’s laugh drew his attention to her once more. Her hands were wrapped around a pink-haired vixen covered in tattoos and leather. Violet had been the first one up here, introducing herself before they’d even made it through the rope.
Violet spread her hand on Emma’s thigh, inching it higher as the sensual music pulsed and throbbed.
“I bet you’re good with your hands,” Carly, or whatever her name was, said.
“Mm-hmm.”
The waitress returned, handing him a fresh glass of bourbon. He set his empty on her tray as she passed the tequila shots around.
Violet set her shot glass in between Emma’s breasts. Link’s grip tightened on his cup as the two women in his ears rattled on. Emma gave Violet a sultry smile and held the lime wedge between her lips. Violet flicked her tongue over the pale flesh of Emma’s neck before shaking some salt on it. Emma tipped her head for Violet to lick her again, as Violet took longer than needed to lap up the granules. Jealousy roared like a hungry lion.
Her pink-haired head dipped as she dove between Emma’s tits, removing the shot with her mouth. A growl emanated from Link’s chest. Violet’s mouth captured Emma’s, only the lime between them. Every muscle pulled taut in his body, his chest heaving. Anger roiled in his gut like a whirlpool of hot lava, melting his insides and all rational thought. His self-control was frayed and raw. Mine! Fuck! No, she isn’t.
His eyes remained glued to the pair as the music switched to “In My Bed” by Rotimi and Wale. Violet stood, taking Emma’s hand and leading her towards an open space under the flashing red lights of the club. Emma hadn’t looked his way once, and yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“Do you want to dance?” Carly asked, seemingly mistaking his interest for the few couples grinding and writhing against one another as a desire to join them.
“Sure.” He tipped back the rest of his bourbon, enjoying the burn as he got to his feet.
Both women encased him, one behind him and one in front. He was normally a one-woman-at-a-time kind of guy, but this was Vegas. Like Emma had said, when in Rome. He tried to get into it, focusing on Carly grinding herself against him, but when he looked at the beautiful woman, she didn’t hold a candle to his little spitfire. He shook his head. I don’t have to like her, just fuck her. Damn, when had he become this brand of asshole?
Emma spun around with a smile on her face as Violet grabbed her hips, holding her close to her own body. Emma’s eyes closed as she tipped her head back to her partner’s shoulder. Violet dipped her nose to Emma’s exposed neck, peppering kisses down to Emma’s shoulder.
Amanda wrapped her hands around his waist, coming to the front with Carly. Four sets of hands molested his chest as they rubbed against him like two cats in heat. His body reacted, but not to them—to the sight of the beauty before him. Emma’s lips parted as Violet’s hands moved to her breasts as she said something in Emma’s ear.
Emma’s eyes popped open, indecision sparking as she looked right at him for the first time since they’d arrived at the club. Her gaze roamed over the girls attached to him, disappointment flashing in her eyes. He couldn’t hear her over the music, but he could read her lips and the nod of her head. “Back” and “hotel.” She was taking Violet back to her room. His heart lurched. Pain lanced his rib cage, slicing like a knife, leaving damage unseen and unspoken.
Emma cast him one more look with a roiling mix of emotions before resignation rose like a wall between them. She took Violet’s hand and led her down the stairs and out of the club.
Link’s chest burned, his lungs squeezing tight as he tried to suck in oxygen. His shoulder muscles bunched as every cell in his body screamed at him to go after her. But what then? Rage flushed through his veins, mixed with lust. His control frayed. Each second ticked by seeming like an eternity as he waged war between his mind and his body. He couldn’t have her—not really. But he couldn’t let her go either.
His feet were moving before he knew what was happening. One thing was clear—he didn’t want Emma to fuck someone else.
He rushed to the door, weaving between the bodies to the exit. Hot, stale air blew in his face as he made it to the street. Emma opened a yellow cab door. His gaze grew hazy, his lungs burning. Desire radiated through him, the last of his self-restraint snapping. He ran over to Emma and grabbed her arm before she could join Violet in the cab. Energy zinged up his arm.
Emma gasped, turning towards him with wide eyes. “Link?”
“Don’t go with her.” His voice was pure gravel, rough and raw.
Emma’s brows drew together in confusion before anger pinked her cheeks. “Why not? Looks like you were going to be occupied for the night.”
Violet turned towards them, casting a curious glance between Link and Emma.
“You’re not going with her.” His command was gruff, leaving no room for argument.
Emma pulled her arm free from his and stood straighter in challenge, her eyes burning blue flames of indignation. “Why not?”
He took a step closer, so they were chest to chest, and growled, “Are you going to make me say it?”
“Say what?” Her eyebrows lifted coyly.
Link glanced around at the other people passing by and giving them a wide berth, as if even they could sense the thick tension roiling between them. An invisible storm raged. Right and wrong. Temptation and fate. A war he wasn’t sure who had started, but he sure as fuck was going to end once and for all.
