Page 61 of Fifth Avenue Devil

Frustration nips at me. I down another shot and liquid courage fuels my determination. The fire left behind in my throat is nothing compared to the feeling Nate ignites in me.

"Your loss," I toss over my shoulder. I hope the words are an invitation.

But he doesn’t follow me as I push out onto the dance floor.

For a minute, I shimmy and slide around the dance floor. But soon, a man starts to dance closer and closer. I welcome him, moving my hips in a way that I judge to be seductive. It works, because his hands soon find purchase against my hips. His fingertips graze my skin through the fabric of my dress.

I should feel uneasy. This is a stranger, after all. But instead, I feel a provocative thrill. I’mdesired.

I can't see Nate. I know he's watching, though. I flirt with danger with every swaying step, daring this man to pull me closer.

Really, I’m daring Nate to react. To see what’s normally his for the taking getting rubbed up against and grinded on.

The stranger's grip tightens. He is making a possessive claim that sends a jolt of alarm through me. Too much, too soon. His eagerness seems like a stark contrast to Nate's controlled detachment.

"Easy," I warn. “You’re hurting me.”

But the man seems deaf to my warning. He growls and tries to grab my face. I think he’s trying to kiss me.

“No!” I hiss. My heart is a hummingbird in my chest.

The stranger's hands clamp down even harder on my body. My breath hitches. I try to extricate myself, but he's a determined wall of a man.

Panic crests within me like a tidal wave ready to break. "Let go," I plead. “You–”

Out of nowhere, Nate explodes onto the scene, a storm of fury and dark hair. Like a crack of thunder, his fist sends the stranger crumpling to the floor. The stranger howls and holds his jaw, but the sound is lost into the sound vortex of the club.

Nate leans down to my ear. "Nobody touches what's mine," he growls. His voice, low and primal, resonates with a possessiveness that shoots shivers down my spine. "You’re mine, Annalise."

He grips my hand. The nightclub becomes a blur of lights and shadows. As we escape into the cool Manhattan night, Nate doesn't pause. His purposeful strides carry me to a sleek SUV idling at the curb and I follow him inside.

He doesn’t say a word to me as the driver pulls away from the curb. His presence is an electric current charging the air between us. He studies me, his slate-colored eyes taking my measure.

Without warning, Nate surges forward. His lips crash against mine. My hands come up to press against the wall of his chest.

The kiss is a maelstrom, fierce and demanding. It scorches through my doubts, ignites my desires. It brands me as irrevocablyhis.

I melt against him and surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

Nate is all I want. Despite my feelings that I might be getting hooked on him, the fact remains. He’smyprotector.Mytempest.Mybillionaire, with eyes only forme.

Twenty-Four

Nate

I'm standing in Annalise’s immaculate penthouse, clenching and unclenching my fists. Annalise, the beautiful blonde bombshell who turned my world upside down, was much too drunk for me to fuck last night. There was some intense kissing, and I sucked her clit while shescreamedmy name, but that was it.

She’d left scratch marks on my upper back. Kitten, indeed.

After that, I played the gentleman and put her to bed. She begged me to fuck her. And my body ached to do so. But I still found my own bed and stroked my cock alone until I came. Then I did it again four more times.

Annalise will be the death of me, I swear. Suffice to say, I did not sleep well last night.

"Ready?" Annalise's voice jars me back to the present.

She’s standing in the front entryway, looking at me with this quizzical gaze. She’s dressed in the Valentino couture that I picked out for her. Floor length white sequins with these jaw-dropping slits cut up the thighs. We’re just going to a poker tournament butdamn. I wanted her to dress to kill today. And might I say that I nailed it.

She looksdivine.

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