Page 68 of Ten Hammers

“To you, love,” he shouts to Winnie. “Here’s to an unforgettable night, where every beat feels like a heartbeat and every dance move brings us closer.”

I snort at his pathetic poetry, but Winnie beams as we clink our glasses together and all knock the drink back.

Sweet. Like… butterscotch schnapps and Irish cream.

I check Winnie’s reaction, but find Leo is talking to her. It’s too loud in here to hear what he is saying.

Irritating. I want her to myself.

“A Buttery Nipple?” she exclaims with a laugh. “Is that really what it’s called?”

Those words out of her mouth, mixed with the sexy warmth of the drink, hit me hard. Without wasting another second, I take Winnie’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

My breath hitches when colorful lights play across her face, revealing the joy in her eyes.

As the DJ mixes a rising tempo, the dance floor below us becomes a sea of movement. Winnie joins in, her eyes flashing as her excitement builds along with the music. I slide up close to her, and she bumps and grinds herself into me. The slit of her skirt allows me to pull her leg up so that I can touch the exposed bare skin of her thigh.

So, so soft. I groan, and her lips curve knowingly. I don’t know if she can hear me, or if she felt the vibrations of my desire, but as she gazes up at me, the need in her eyes mirrors mine.

I want to kiss her badly. I hate that I can’t right now. The bartender will know we’re semi-celebrities. He’ll have to keep things under wraps. But until Winnie chooses her Hammer, I don’t want to risk a potential photo leak that could jeopardize her in any way.

From the corner of my eye, I see Leo head to the bar. He’ll refresh our drinks, but I know he’ll have the bartender pull a round of water, too. Neither of us wants to cloud a single moment tonight with drink-dulled senses.

“Theo?”

Winnie has her sweet hands on my chest and she’s looking at me like she’s thinking hard.

“What is it, baby?”

She chews her lip for a sexy little second, and then she’s got her arms around my neck, stretching on her toes, to speak directly and loudly into my ear.

Her sweet breath is hot against my face. But there’s no way she just said what I think she just said.

Did Winnie Wainwright practically yell in my ear that she wants to fuck me?

From the look in her eyes… yes?

Holy shit. How fast can I get my girl into the lounge, out of her skirt, and onto my dick?

I glance back at the bar to catch Leo’s eye as I lead Winnie to the open door. He takes a sip of his drink, raises his brows. He’s cool. He’ll watch the door for us.

The moment we’re inside, Winnie has her hands all over me, tugging me toward a chair, pushing me into it so that she can climb into my lap.

My hands slide up her thighs, under her skirt. Her mouth is greedy and I love it. I feed her my tongue and she sucks sucks, sucks, and my dick is so fucking jealous, even as the rest of me thrills at the sensation of her sweet mouth devouring mine.

She wiggles and gyrates on top of me like she’s still on the dance floor and the movement is making it impossible for me to go slow. I slide my hands higher, squeezing her soft skin as I go.

I finally reach her panties and she’s so wet my finger nearly slips inside.

“Leo,” she moans.

I pause, my stomach dropping lower than my balls. She doesn’t think I’m Leo, does she?

But then she adds, “I feel bad that he’s out there by himself.”

I mean, he has the bartender to keep him company.

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