Page 226 of Remy

Russo snorts.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The guy I wanted dead practically skips toward me, sizing me up with enough carnal interest to convey Ollie isn’t his usual demographic.

“Hey, daddy.” He bites his bottom lip. “I heard you wanted to see me.”

She set me up.

I want to be pissed, but a grin pulls at my lips, my enjoyment of this game making me crave her even more.

“There’s been a misunderstanding.” I give him a dismissive stare. “Enjoy your night.”

“Oh.” Lover boy pouts. “But you’re just my type.”

“Maybe some other time.”

Russo chokes on a laugh, attempting to hide it over the clearing of his throat.

I return my attention to Ollie on the dance floor who now stares directly at me with a shit-eating grin.

“Are you serious?” My potential lover’s voice brims with excitement.

“No.” Valenti advances in threat. “He’s not fucking serious, now scram.”

Ollie holds my gaze, making the rest of the world disappear as she moves her body to the beat, her hand gliding seductively over her chest, up her neck, then into her hair.

I don’t know what’s gotten into her tonight, but I’d like to add to it.

I pull my cell back out of my pocket.

Me

Not nice, Ollie. You almost sentenced an underserving man to death.

Olivia

??

Me

Keep laughing. But as soon as you step foot from view of your friends, you’re mine.

I watch with predatory intent as she remains transfixed on her screen.

Olivia

Is that supposed to be a threat?

A sexual one?

You do realize I’ve been trying to get in your pants for weeks, right?

Have I not made that blindingly obvious?

Should I start stripping on the dance floor to make it abundantly clear?

I smirk at my cell like a kid on crack.

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