Page 48 of Sin

It’ll make my hangover even worse.

Ethan doesn’t seem to notice that we’re holding up the line. His hungry gaze is still fixed on my mouth. I grab his hand and pull him forward to move with the line. The bass from within the club pulses like a second heartbeat under our feet, and when we finally make it inside, we’re enveloped by a kaleidoscope of lights and the thumping music.

I missed this club. It’s so delightfully trashy.

“Alright, big guy,” I shout over the music. “The first thing we’re doing is getting water.”

“Hell, no,” he shouts back. “We’re dancing first.”

Ethan pulls me out onto the dance floor, his eyes shimmering with energy.

Once we’re swallowed into the crowd, Ethan yanks my body against his. His hips move fluidly with the music, and bafflement expands within me like a rising tide. Who would have thought uptight Ethan Harrington would be such a good dancer? This man knows how to move.

“You’re a hella good dancer,” I shout. “How did that happen?”

He grins, pulling me closer. “I’m an athlete. I’m good at anything that involves my body.”

Heat stirs in my gut. I’m not sure if he meant the sexual innuendo, but it certainly seems like it based on his wicked smile.

The thing is, I think Ethan would be good at sex, even on his first try. His ability to move his body is only part of it. He also has that razor-sharp focus and determination. He wouldn’t rest until he made me come.

A molten heat rushes through my veins. Damn his stupid chastity pledge.

“You’re a better dancer than me, big guy,” I say.

When he lets out a groan, I frown. “What?”

His hand slides up to cradle my face, and his thumb brushes my cheekbone. “I love it when you call me ‘big guy.’”

Under the pulsing lights, Ethan’s eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes heat coil in my belly, ready to burst. With each beat, he draws me closer until we’re barely a breath apart.

It’s too much. I need some space from him or I might make the drunken decision to close the distance between us and press my lips against his.

I clear my throat. “You know…there’s a pole in this club.”

“A what?”

“A pole,” I shout, my ears starting to ring from the blasting music. “For dancing. My sorority sisters and I love this club because it’s such a dive for Santa Barbara.” An idea sprouts, making my stomach flip over. “Oh my God! What if we had a pole dancing competition?”

His appalled expression makes me giggle. Damn, I must be more drunk than I thought, challenging Ethan of all people to a pole dance off.

I cock a brow. “What? Are you scared?”

He snorts and shakes his head. “What does pole dancing competition even mean? How would we decide the winner? I’m very competitive, sassy girl. We need to have rules.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you take me for, a pole dancing virgin? My sorority sisters and I have done this plenty of times. We judge the performance based on how many cheers we get.”

He scowls. “Naturally, you’ll win that. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

My belly warms as it always does when Ethan compliments my appearance. “You’re not exactly ugly. Plus, you’re famous. I’m actually at a huge disadvantage here. In fact, I’ll make you go first to warm up the crowd for me. You’ll take a handicap to make it fair.”

Ethan’s fingers drum against his thigh as he glances around the dance floor, clearly conflicted. He finally sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But if a YouTube video of me dancing on that pole goes viral and ends up on some sports news segment, I’ll give you that spanking over my lap.”

My breath hitches, a jolt of excitement mingling with nerves. “Deal.”

He grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the crowd, marching in the direction of the pole on the corner stage. He’s so big and tall that people seem to step out of his way instinctively, creating a clear path for us.

We’re lucky that the tiny stage is empty when we make it to the corner of the club. Ethan leaps up onto it and grips the pole. He glances back at me, his eyes glinting with challenge and amusement.

---