Page 25 of Vicious Kingdom

Leo’s black gaze took her in before shifting over her head. Those eyes, filled with a terrible warning, focused on me.

Kristy laid her hand on Leo’s arm, swaying to the music as she pressed herself against him.

“Dance with me,” she purred, loud enough that I could hear it despite the throbbing bass.

Leo’s eyes never left mine as he shrugged her off, the movement casual but unmistakable. Like brushing away a bothersome insect.

“Not tonight,” he said, his voice deep and final.

Kristy’s smile faltered. She tried again, fingers trailing up his sleeve. “Come on, just one—”

Leo stepped back, breaking contact completely. The dismissal was cold, efficient. “I said no.”

The hurt flashed across Kristy’s face before she masked it with a tight smile. She retreated to our group, her shoulders stiff with wounded pride.

“Bitch, move,” Callah whispered in my ear, nodding toward the unwanted prey.

I stayed stalk-still.

Leo was up to something. His presence here, his attention earlier, it was packed with a secret agenda.

So I did the only logical thing my alcohol-soaked brain could think of. I took Brady’s hand and led her onto the dance floor.

She squealed as I slid my hands over her arms. The soft brown skin broke in gooseflesh under my touch.

Brady’s eyes widened with surprise before darkening with mischief. She turned in my grip, her back pressing against my front as we began to move to the pulsing rhythm. The music thrummed through us like a shared heartbeat, our bodies swaying in perfect synchronicity.

I let my hands slide down to her hips, my fingertips digging into the silky material of her dress. My self-consciousness dissolved with each beat of the bass, each sip of alcohol burningthrough my veins. Brady reached back, threading her fingers through my hair as she ground against me.

“Damn, girl,” Brady laughed, her hands finding my waist. “Where’d this come from?”

I didn't answer, just laughed, the sound drowned by the music as I spun her to face me. Our bodies pressed together, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. I could feel the heat radiating between us, making a show of it, knowing—feeling—Leo’s eyes burning into my skin.

A man with the build of a football player stepped close and reached for Brady.

With a giggle, she let him pull her away.

I continued to dance, arms above my head, spirit soaring to the heavens.

Or at least to the towering ceiling.

The skin on the back of my neck pricked just before a pair of strong hands gripped my waist from behind, spinning me around with practiced ease. My breath caught in my throat as Leo’s dark eyes captured mine, his scent—expensive cologne and raw masculinity—enveloping me completely.

“My turn,” he growled, the words barely audible over the music, but I felt them vibrate through my body.

I could hardly believe my own eyes.

This was really happening.

Whatever madness possessed him, I was here for it.

The bass dropped, and so did my inhibitions. His large hands slid down to my hips, pulling me against the hard planes of his body. I could feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of my dress.

“What are you doing?” I managed to whisper, my voice breathy and unfamiliar to my own ears.

His lips brushed against my ear. “If you didn’t want me to dance with you, why did you beckon me over here?”

The possessive tone sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. I should have pushed him away, resisted his charm. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t real—not yet! He was up to something, and in my muddled, mushy brain, I couldn’t unravel the puzzle.