Maybe he could just—
“Boss.”
Shit.
If the knock at my door hadn’t stopped us, Bennett’s loud baritone voice sure as hell would. He knew better than to enter without my permission, but he also didn’t interrupt meetings—personal or otherwise—unless it was necessary.
“Give me a minute,” I called out, pulling my mouth away from Jared’s as I tried to rein in my pulse.
Jared’s eyes flashed to mine, panting gently while his hands were still locked on my ass. Not exactly the kind of scene I wanted my staff walking in on, even if Bennett would probably swallow his own tongue before telling anyone my business.
Pretending I hadn’t been seconds away from sticking my hands down Jared’s pants and possibly letting him do the same to me, my practiced mask fell back into place. I’d never admit how annoyed I’d been at the interruption, a little pissed at myself for being so consumed that I’d momentarily forgotten where the hell I was. And, considering I was at work and making out with a hot fireman—I’d been crushing on forever—wasn’t listed in my job description, I had no reason to be so perturbed.
Too bad logic was still competing with my overactive hormones.
Shaking off the tight knot in my gut, I pulled myself together and straightened my dress. My fingers dragged against the edges of my lips, tidying my makeup before wiping the telltale signs of SUE ME Red off Jared’s mouth. A quick glance into my mirrored wall confirmed I was presentable, tilting my head to my desk which looked like it had been headbutted by a rhino. “Fix that, won’t you,” I tossed over my shoulder, not bothering to turn and see if he was going to comply as I headed to the door and unlocked it manually.
Bennett looked bored, a quick survey of the space almost unnoticeable as his eyes slid slowly to Jared who was moving my office furniture, before returning back to me. “VIP, apparently they need an audience. Your presence is required.”
His brow lifted indicating he was less than pleased at having to deliver the message, or at least that’s what I hoped it meant. He could have equally been giving me the ‘I-know-what-you-were-doing’ eyebrow lift, but I wasn’t ready to deal with that. Instead, I preferred some rock star, model, or social media person had worked his last nerve, exercising their don’t you know who I am? bullshit and he was done playing interference.
The jury was still out, but either way, that was a discussion we weren’t going to be having right now.
“Who?” Jared’s voice came from behind us; Bennett’s brow getting even higher as he kept his eyes on me and ignored him.
“I’ll go back to circling the club. Let me know if you need anything.” He didn’t wait for my response, turning around and closing the door behind him.
Bennett, of all people, knew names were off limits between the walls of Diablo, especially in the VIP section. It was a policy that attracted the A-list clientele, their location only advertised when they checked-in on their socials, and not by me or any of my staff. Hell, I’d only told Mack about his ex-wife’s new patronage when he’d been in the club to see it with his own eyes, taking my tightlipped hardline seriously even for friends.
As Bennett left, I spun around to face Jared, the question still on his face even though he hadn’t asked again. “First rule of Fight Club . . .” I smiled, gesturing to the door.
“You don’t talk about Fight Club.” He rolled his eyes. “I get it, but it’s just me and you. Besides, who am I going to tell? If I were to bring it up, that would just shine a light on the fact I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.”
His words stung a little, my expression staying neutral even though it annoyed me. I assumed from his kiss he was done with worrying about other people’s opinions, but I’d been mistaken. Not sure why it bothered me so much, it wasn’t like I advertised my relationships or took a full-page ad announcing them. But with him . . . it was different. And I needed to work out why.
“Well, we couldn’t have that now, could we? Imagine if people knew where you were?” I mock gasped, the sarcasm hiding my conflicting emotions. “So, if there’s nothing else . . .” I left my sentence trailing, pointing again to the door.
Jared’s brow scrunched in confusion, his eyes flashing between me and the exit I was clearly hinting he take. “I thought maybe we could talk some more.” His heated gaze hovered over my lips. And it didn’t take a genius to work out talking was the last thing on his mind.
“Well, I don’t really have time for a chat. But if you’re willing to pull out your wallet and buy a drink or two, I’m sure Raelle will gladly keep you company.” I did my best to force a smile.
My terrible suggestion served a dual purpose. One, to see if he’d happily go back to flirting with my attractive bartender, who he may or may not attempt to sleep with. It was a free country and all of that, and she didn’t come with complications. And two, to test if the idea would make me jealous.
Technically, it wasn’t a fair bet.
Raelle would flirt and talk to anyone—man, woman, hyena—she didn’t discriminate. As long as you kept the orders coming and weren’t a shitty tipper, you’d have her undivided sexy attention.
But she didn’t sleep with customers, something Jared had probably yet to find out.
It was her one rule, refusing to budge even when she really wanted to. It was something we both agreed on, refusing to accept the stereotype that the only way we’d succeed was by using what was in-between our legs. Ha, ironic that what was between our ears was so much more dangerous, which meant my suggestion to Jared was more of a set up. Not that I’d ever admit that, tempering my reaction while I waited for his response.
His eyes dipped, following the curves of my body before landing back on my face. “I didn’t come here to talk to Raelle.”
Ignoring how stupidly pleased it made me to hear those words, my lips pressed into a firm grin. “Then you better go. If you’re still wanting that chat later, give me a call. If not, I’ll see you around.”
I tried not to smile, my lips betraying me a little as they lifted at the edges. I was not going to lay my cards on the table when I had no idea what was going through Leighton’s mind. And considering I should have already been gone, I didn’t have the time for it either.
The VIP section, and whatever Big Shot needing my attention, still required my presence, which was why I pushed the memory of that kiss and his hands to the side and nodded to the door. I wasn’t going to ask again, my directive that he needed to leave no longer just a suggestion.
I was going to need a minute. If for nothing else to freshen my makeup so I didn’t look like I’d been making out like a teenager.
He swallowed whatever words he was thinking of sharing, leaving them unspoken as he headed toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, hesitating before turning. “I’ll wait around and give you a ride home.”
They were the same words he’d said to me only twenty-four hours earlier. But unlike the last time, I was sure how that ride would end.
Him.
Me.
Panting against hot skin as we tangled between my sheets.
And even though there was a chance I’d be waking up to an empty bed and another of those I’m sorry texts, I still wanted it.