Holding Strong. Lori Foster
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“So are the rumors true?”
“Sure.”
Denver stifled a laugh; Armie hadn’t even asked her what rumors she meant. But when it came to Armie, just about anything was possible.
Bracing her hands on his thighs, she leaned in more, making sure to put her cleavage on display. “I watched you fight.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a beast.” With a little shiver, she added, “I think that’s sexy.”
Armie smiled.
Denver lifted an eyebrow. He felt like a damn voyeur, but he wasn’t about to budge. This was too entertaining.
“So...” Pretending modesty, she ducked her face while still watching him. “Was it...naughty of me to confront you like this?”
Armie stared her in the eyes while murmuring, “Real naughty. And you know what I do with naughty girls?”
“You...you punish them?”
Denver almost choked, yet Armie didn’t miss a beat.
“That’s right.” Armie’s smile had the woman ready to swoon, especially when he added, “Even if they’re really, really good.”
On an indrawn breath she straightened, all but vibrating with excitement.
“You got a room anywhere close, honey?”
Breathless, face flushed and one hand splayed over her upper chest, she whispered, “Right across the street.”
Stern, his stare intimidating, Armie told her, “Then we should probably get to it.” He finished off his shot and put the glass on the bar.
To Denver he said, “Settle my bill, will ya?” and with a stinging swat to the gal’s derriere, he started her toward the exit.
Shaking his head, Denver turned back to the bar—and almost bumped into Cherry Peyton. The time of the night and so much dancing had left her bouncy blond hair a little messy, her makeup a little smudged, her skin flushed and dewy.
A soft V-necked shirt clung to her breasts and tight jeans hugged her ass.
She looked so damn hot, his dick twitched and his guts tightened.
Breathless, eyes wide, she asked, “Was Armie serious?”
Just to tease her, Denver asked, “About what?” when he knew damn good and well what she meant. He also knew he shouldn’t be engaging her more than necessary—except, well, his convictions had already started to fade.
After glancing around to ensure they had privacy, she whispered, “Spanking?”
Damn, but she always smelled so good. “I doubt it.” Settling back some so he wouldn’t keep breathing her in, he shrugged. “Armie’s into sex however he can get it. But I don’t think he particularly gravitates to the whole discipline scene.”
Scandalized, she said, “He’s awfully blatant about it.”
True, but her interest in Armie annoyed him. Her interest in all guys was the number one reason he’d always tried so hard to avoid her.
Because he flat-out didn’t share.
Cherry Peyton might be the most appealing woman he’d ever met—sexy, sweet, funny—but she was a world-class flirt.
That fact bugged him just enough that he asked, “Why?” He leaned to the side a little to see her heart-shaped ass. “You like the idea of getting your backside warmed?”
Instead of embarrassing her, the question made her smile bright enough to stir him.
He almost got hard before she said, “No, so don’t go getting any ideas.”
Too damn late for that. He’d had ideas from the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
One hand on the stool next to him, she asked, “Mind if I join you?”
Yeah, he did. It would have been easier for him if she kept her distance. So far she hadn’t done that. She teased and toyed with him constantly—along with every other guy in the vicinity. Tonight had seemed different and he’d thought maybe she’d finally given up—but now that she was done dancing with everyone else...
Struggling with himself, Denver hesitated too long, causing her to retrench.
“Unless you’d rather I didn’t?” Watching him with big dark eyes that now looked wounded, she let out a breath. “You’re probably hoping to hook up, right? Stack and Miles already did, so I didn’t want to get in their way.”
So she’d only approached him to give them space?
When he still said nothing, Cherry took a step back. “Guess I shouldn’t get in your way, either.”
Yeah, until he’d gotten preoccupied with watching her, that had been the plan. A one-night stand with a nameless woman he’d never have to see again. Relieve some stress. Get his head together. Then walk away.
Man, had shit gone awry on that plan.
He’d known all along that Cherry had driven down for the fights; she was as supportive of Armie as everyone else in their group. At the venue, with every seat filled, he’d barely seen her. Here at the club, he couldn’t keep his gaze off her.
And again, he’d hesitated too long.
Twisting her mouth, she nodded. “Got it.” She tucked her hair behind her ear with trembling fingers. “Sorry I intruded. It won’t happen again.” Her cheeks were hot, her eyes glassy as she turned away.
“Hey.” Before she’d taken a full step, Denver gestured at the seat. “Suit yourself.”
Given the length of time it had taken him to issue the invite, she should have been insulted. He half expected her to tell him to go to hell.
Instead, after considering him for several heartbeats, she slid that shapely ass up next to him.
He wanted her enough that small talk wasn’t easy. He had to concentrate to say, “You want something to drink?”
The shake of her head sent all those soft curls tumbling over her shoulders. “I better not.” Without looking at him, she wrinkled her nose. “Three wine coolers is my limit.”
Was she toasted? If so, he couldn’t very well leave her on her own, right? He glanced back and sure enough, as she’d said, Stack had one lady on his lap while Miles made out with another.
Worse, the guy who’d hit on her was across the floor keeping her in his sights. Denver mean-mugged him until he averted his gaze.
“You’re staying in the hotel across the street, too?”
The question brought Denver’s attention back to her. With an elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand, she looked tired.
The damn music was so loud he felt the beat in his chest.
Or maybe sitting so close to Cherry caused the heavy thumping of his heartbeat.
Why did she ask about the hotel? Looking at her lips, he said, “Yeah.”
“So am I.”
Damn, he didn’t need to know that.
She blew a curl away from her face. “I’m glad I decided not to drive back tonight.” Releasing a deep breath, she closed her eyes. “I’m beat.”
Driving home to Warfield, Ohio would have meant two hours in the car, and it was already one in the morning. The after-party was in full swing even though Armie, who would have been the man of the hour, had already booked with a babe.
Denver didn’t know if it was the kinky redhead or the threat of interest from the SBC that had driven Armie off so quickly.