A girl with pink hair banged into me as she swung herself to the beat, slamming hard into my chest and spilling the last of my water over my shirt. She spun around with a sorry.
I tipped my head and forced a smile, and she smiled back, then kept her eyes on me.
“Hey,” she said. “Can I get you another drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Still her eyes stayed fixed on mine. “You sure? I’d really like to. Water, right?”
Her earrings were cheap. Metal painted with fake gold.
Sometimes I liked cheap. I liked tempting it with cash and demanding whatever I wanted. I’d learned at a very early age that there is nothing on this planet that is unobtainable.
Everything has a price. Everyone has a price.
I glanced back over at Elaine, and she was still gazing at the prick on stage like a cat in heat.
“Sure,” I told the pink-haired girl. “I’ll have another water.”
“Cheap date.” She laughed and took my empty bottle from me.
Oh, the irony.
She headed over to the bar, and I waited, my stare still hard on Elaine. I was so focused on her that Pink Hair had to nudge my side before I realized she was back. She handed me my fresh water, a smile bright on her face. “You from here?”
I nodded. “Bishop’s Landing.”
“Ooh, fancy. Come here often?”
My answer was short and simple. “No.”
It was right then that the band on stage finished up their song and took a bow for the crowd. Done. Finished. The throng of revelers didn’t get the chance to disappear from the dancefloor before the main act came up onto the stage.
That’s when I recognized him—the Blue Hawk guy I’d checked out online.
He looked like a cocky performer with a decent ripple of muscle through his frame. Hardly a surprise the room was cheering for him. Especially not when his voice started up and flowed right through the venue.
He was good.
I looked across at Elaine. The man at her side was air punching and whooping. He ducked down to Elaine, and she was laughing as they cheered.
The crowd thrusted forward as another song started up and removed me from her view. I wasted no time and slipped away, weaving my way between the bodies, ignoring the way Pink Hair called out for me. I had eyes for no one but Elaine.
Closer.
Closer to the temptress across the floor with every breath and every step.
My cock was swollen in my pants, and it wasn’t for the woman I’d left behind. It was for the woman in front of me, the beautiful virgin, who I would turn into a whore. I would debauch a pretty Constantine princess and win Morelli Holdings at the same time.
She was swaying on her feet, holding her beer up high, and the man at her side was swaying along with her, nodding his head to the beat.
I wanted to see her pain with my reflection in her eyes. Slowly. Oh, so slowly.
I wanted to take her as mine as she moaned and murmured and begged.
It was a dark thrill in my gut as I stepped up behind her, close enough to catch her scent. Orchids and plums were wafting from her perfume, just like at Tinsley’s ball. It only added to the zing inside me as it brought the memories pounding back. The feeling of her body, so willing against mine. Her mouth, so wet and eager. Her pussy, so wet and so needy.
I wanted that again. I wanted her again.
I stayed in position behind her, feeling her heat as she moved. So close. So fucking close.
The song finished and the prick by her side leaned down to her, and the silence between the tracks was enough that I could hear his words.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on him later,” he said, and Elaine laughed.
“Let’s hope he wants your hands on him, then,” she replied.
I couldn’t deny the relief at affirming the guy really had no road into her pussy. I saw no lust in her eyes as he smiled down at her, nothing but…friendship. Genuine friendship, so I made a note of him as a potential leverage. Tristan. He must be the Tristan from the calendar listing.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, and it was in the way she melted into him that showed me affection between them.
It was insane, just how the sight of that flared up in me.
How the way she touched him made me hungry for her to touch me like that. I didn’t understand her impact on me, and I didn’t want to. There was nothing I wanted other than the thrill of breaking her and staring into the hate in her eyes, burning as brightly as mine ever would. The very thought of wanting more than that gave me shivers.
The bass started up again, and the two of them started swaying along with it, waving their arms above their heads. That’s when I did it. That’s when I made the move to close that final sliver of distance. I pressed up tight behind my blonde Constantine prey, letting out one single breath against her cheek as I put my hands on her waist and pushed on by.
It was fast. One tiny heartbeat in the thrum of the room. But it was enough.
It was enough that she tensed. Enough that she turned. Enough that I felt her eyes searching after me as I disappeared into the darkness of the crowd.
I waited until there were a number of people between us before I turned back to face her, far enough away that she could never be quite certain who I was. Not amongst the dancing, and the cheering, and the flashing of the club lights all around.
It was just enough.
She saw me.
I felt it. Sensed it. Wanted it.
I met her eyes through the shadows and the flashes of neon, and I held her gaze in mine.
Yes. She saw me.
She stopped moving. Dead in her tracks. Eyes open wide.
The guy at her side stopped moving and turned toward her, trying to work out what she was staring at.
But no.
He’d never manage it.
I was already walking away.
Chapter Nine
Elaine
My heart was pounding, and my breath caught in my throat, and I couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop the waves of panic flying through my veins.
“What is it?” Tristan barked into my ear, and I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. “What is it, Lainey?” he asked again, but the figure was gone.
I struggled to keep sight of him, but the crowd was too dark. I could feel Tristan staring, too.
“What the hell are you looking at, Lainey? What is it?” he asked, and I took a deep breath before I turned to face him.
“It was Lucian Morelli. He’s here.”
His eyes widened, his mouth dropping to match, and then he shook his head and fixed me in a gaze that said I was crazy.
Yep, he was joining the Elaine-is-crazy club. He’d better get in line.
“Lucian Morelli isn’t in this place,” he told me. “No fucking way.”
I shrugged, knowing full well my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I pointed into the crowd. “He was over there, and before that he was right behind me, grabbing hold of my waist.”
My words had to be shouts above the music, but that didn’t matter. He heard me loud and clear.
His eyebrows were pitted as he shook his head again, then leaned in close. “You have to stop this. Whatever this damn fucking obsession with Lucian Morelli is, you have to damn well stop it.”
“It’s not an obsession. He was right here.” I nodded in contrast to his shaking head. “I mean it, Tristan. He was here.”