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He caught my hand and pulled it, not letting go.
I leaned over and put my mouth against his ear. “That big guy in the corner is just itching to throw you out. Let go of my hand or he’s going to.”
Conner’s bleary eyes moved to Lloyd, who glowered in the sort of way that intimidated anyone with enough sense to breathe. Conner’s grip loosened and I squeezed his shoulder and straightened.
I turned toward the bar, my eyes automatically skimming my other tables, looking for needs, for eye contact, for empty glasses. I was moving and thinking, a to-do list of orders building in my mind, and almost ran into Britni, who uncharacteristically stopped, right in front of me, in the middle of the aisle.
I moved to her left, and she blocked me. My eyes met hers and I raised one brow.
“Can you switch tables with me? Cover the top table?”
The top table was where the elite of our high rollers sat—the sort of men who made Conner and his daddy look like used car salesmen. It was the coveted table and one that Britni typically latched onto with the intensity of a honey badger.
Her offering it up could only mean that a major asshole was sitting there. I turned to glance over my shoulder, to see who the culprit was, but she stopped me.
“Lance told me to tell you that your guy is there.”
My guy. At that table, it could only be Dario. I made the decision in less time than it took Conner to let go of my hand. “Let me get this round to my tables, then I’ll turn them over to you.”
She nodded, stepped to the side, and I walked toward the bar. With each step along the way, as I bent over the ice and grabbed bottles and mixed liquor, I felt his eyes. How long had he been here? I thought of Conner, the way he’d pulled me onto his lap—something that, given the timing, Dario had to have seen. I thought of leaving Dario’s car, how I’d felt walking away. I had expected, with every step I’d taken, for him to call out, to stop me. And yet, he hadn’t. We both had too much pride for our own good, yet he was here.
I delivered drinks, gave myself a stern warning to be strong, then climbed the short bank of steps to the top table. I stepped onto the level and locked eyes with him.
* * *
DARIO
It’d been seven hours since she’d knelt before him in the car, her hands on his thighs, her hands on his cock. She’d looked at him in a playful way that tugged at his heart and had eyed his cock in a devious way that lit fire to his arousal. Seven hours since she’d looked into his eyes with finality, then turned and left him stunned and alone in his car. Now, she met his gaze in the frustrated manner of a woman pushed too far.
But she couldn’t give up. Not when, even as her mouth tightened, and her eyes moved away, the energy between them sizzled. Not when, as she rounded the table, and he followed her with his eyes, her cheeks flushed. Whatever it was between them, it wasn’t a spark. It was a crackle of lightning, one that lit new wildfires whenever they came in contact. She might hate him right now, but she wouldn’t stay away. Bell smiled at a man on the end, patted the shoulder of his companion, and finally, rounding the table’s final curve, came to his seat.
Her eyes dropped to his glass, the bottle of water still half-full beside the tumbler. She reached for it, unscrewed the lid, and topped off his glass. She glanced down at his cards, then met his eyes. “I thought you didn’t play.”
Her knowledge of his reputation warmed him. He reached over, wrapping his hand around her slender wrist, and pulled her toward him. She stumbled forward and stopped. He released her. “It’s a night for vices.”
She moved closer, and God, he wanted to clear this room. To stand up and tell all of these assholes to go home. He wanted to grab her, to kiss her, to brand her as his own and lift her onto this felt table. He wanted to…
He forced himself to stop before his thoughts went carnal, before he had her shorts ripped open and loose around her ankles, before he was in between those thighs, first with his mouth, then with his cock.
It was too late. He shifted in his seat in an attempt to give his dick more room, to ease the throb of it between his legs.
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice, and he watched the pale pink of her lips and tried not to think about how they felt. “What are you doing here?”
