Page 36 of Big Dick Energy

“That's very... caveman of you,” I managed, though my voice came out breathier than intended.

“Yeah?” He steered me around a slow-moving couple, his hand sliding from my back to my hip for just a moment. “Did it do something for you, Davidson?”

Yes. No. Maybe? Abso-fucking–lutely…

“I'm just saying I can fight my own battles,” I said, but there was no heat in it.

Dallas stopped walking abruptly, catching my elbow and turning me to face him. We were in a quieter corridor now, and Brooke disappeared toward the escalators. He stepped closer, backing me up against a pillar, one arm braced above my head.

“I know you can,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my knees weak. His eyes searched my face, lingering on my lips before dragging back up. “That's one of the things I…” He stopped himself. “I like that about you.”

The corner of my lip curved up. “There are things you like about me?”

“A few,” he admitted, his voice rough. “Very few.”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning into him. “Care to share with the class, Dodger?”

His eyes darkened as he looked down at me. “Your smart mouth, for starters.”

“My smart mouth?” I repeated, letting my gaze drop to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “And here I thought you found it annoying.”

“I find it...” He paused. “Distracting.”

“In a good way?” I pressed, emboldened by the heat in his stare and the whiskey still warming my veins.

Dallas leaned down, close enough that I could feel his breath against my ear. “In a way that makes me think about shutting it up.”

My heart stuttered, and heat rushed through me.

Then Dallas straightened, clearing his throat. “We should catch up with Brooke.” But he offered me his hand. “Before she sends out a search party.”

I slipped my hand into his, trying to ignore how perfectly it fit. “Lead the way, husband.”

The smile that curved his lips was wicked. “After you, wife.”

CHAPTER 13

MY HUSBAND, MY ENEMY, MY PROBLEM

DALLAS

The Las Vegas Strip glittered below, headlights crawling along the boulevard thirty floors down. I stood at the window, shirt already off, thinking about how I'd flown into this city as a bachelor and was leaving as a married man.

I stripped off my pants and boxers, catching my reflection in the glass, then thought better of it. Sober Davina would absolutely murder me if I slept naked. I dug through my bag, pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants, and put them on.

The bathroom door creaked, and I twisted to see Davina peeking through a narrow crack between the door and frame, her eyes carefully averted.

“Turn around,” she ordered, just her face visible through the opening.

I smirked. “Why?”

“Because...” She sighed, exasperated. “I wasn't planning on sharing a room with anyone, so I didn't pack appropriate sleepwear.”

“You do remember that we slept naked together last night, right?” I couldn't resist pointing that out, and the memory of her bare skin sent blood rushing south.

“No,” she scowled, her cheeks flushing. “I do not remember that. Black out drunk, remember? Now turn around.”

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying her discomfort far too much. “What if I said I wanted to refresh my memory?”