Page 7 of Mark & Don't Tell

Jane scoots to the side to give him space, pulling me with her, but he stays against the side wall, jaw clenched as he leans back and pretends like we’re not there.

Right, he’s like all the others. Only interested when it suits him.

The short moment of attraction dies inside of me, and I scowl at myself in the reflection of the doors. Jane is lost in her own thoughts as the elevator descends. There’s no music, and for some reason, all I can hear is the steady and soft rhythm of his breathing, which is freakishly in sync with my own.

I hold my breath, purposefully destroying the cadence, and my frown deepens when he holds his as well.

What kind of mind fuck is this?

I cut an annoyed look in his direction, and my pulse jumps when I find his gaze on me once again. That strong jaw is still clenched, but there’s an undeniable hunger in the depths of his irises, almost like a beast is lurking, waiting to get me alone and destroy my entire being.

Or maybe he’s here for a good fuck. Isn’t that what this club is all about?

My stomach flips and heat scorches through my core as the elevator jolts to a stop. He pushes off the wall, pressing into my space, and I swear his gaze drops to my lips. I tuck my bottom one between my teeth to keep from saying something.

I’m not going to do the chasing.

One of his dark eyebrows lifts, almost as if he knows what I’m thinking. That’s okay, love, I’ll do the chasing.

Swallowing, I tear my gaze away, ignoring my fluttering pulse as the doors slide open. “Ready, Jane?” This time, I’m the one tugging her along a dark hallway illuminated by strips of red lighting. Sultry music fills the corridor and masks the clicking of our heels. Musk hangs in the air, but it must be part of the club’s atmosphere since scents aren’t allowed.

Damn shame.

Except, that might be my only saving grace. No scents mean my silly omega heart won’t get its hopes up. I’m here for fun, not to find true love. And I’ve already given up on that, anyway.

The more distance I put between myself and the tattooed god, the more I want to glance over my shoulder. But I don’t. Even without checking, I sense his eyes roaming over me as we stop at the coat check. He keeps his distance, though.

I hate and love that, all at the same time.

Jane quickly hands her coat over, but my fingers hesitate on my zipper. Once the coat is off, it’s real. I’ll really be doing this.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and gooseflesh races down my arms.

He’s right behind me.

I don’t know how I know it without turning around. I just do. He’s affecting me more than I should let him, but maybe that’s because it’s been so long since I’ve had a real person touch me in that way.

Only a few seconds have passed, Jane tips her head at me in question, wondering why I’m hesitating.

Fuck it. Taking a deep breath, I unzip my coat and pull it off. My knuckles brush over his body as I extend them back to get my arms out, and I ignore the way my thighs clench at his proximity.

I hear him hiss, almost like I burned him with my touch, but I refuse to give in first.

The silk teddy barely covers my ass, and the thong I’m wearing doesn’t give much coverage, either, so as I reach to hand over my coat, the soft material grazes along my skin, and cool air smooths across my ass. Every part of me burns, knowing he’s seeing it all, but I’m not embarrassed.

I have a nice ass.

“Perfect, ladies, one moment.” The guy helping us glances over my head. “Are you Vicente?”

Oh my god, even his name is sexy.

“Vic,” the deep and husky voice corrects.

“They’re waiting for you inside.” The guy at the counter gestures to the door. “You can go on in. Do you need any wristbands?”

I hold my breath, curious to see what he might like, what sort of kinks he might have. The colored bracelets will tell me everything I need to know. Do we like the same things? God, I hope so.

“Just the white one.”

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