Page 17 of Turmoil's Target

I glance over my shoulder, catching her eye with a knowing smirk.

Looks like we’re both in for some fun tonight.

The VIP host nods at me in recognition as we approach, unhooking the velvet rope to let us pass.

I breeze by him with a wink, heading straight for my favorite corner booth that overlooks the pulsing dance floor below.

Sliding into the plush seat, I cross my legs slowly, letting the hem of my tight dress ride up my thighs.

Abe’s molten gaze follows the movement before he settles in beside me, his denim-clad thigh pressing against my bare one.

Sparks skitter across my skin at the contact.

Jack and Rita take their seats across from us, but I barely spare them a glance.

I only have eyes for Abe right now.

He drapes an arm across the back of the booth, his fingertips grazing my shoulder and sending a shiver down my spine.

“Cozy,” he remarks with a crooked grin, those piercing blue eyes roaming over me appreciatively. “I like it.”

“I thought you might.” Heat unfurls within me as I boldly reach out to trail a red lacquered nail down the inked patterns curling around his muscular forearm. “So tell me, Abe...what other things do you like?”

His eyes flare with unmistakable want. “Fishing for compliments already? And here I thought we were just getting to know each other…”

“Maybe I’m an overachiever.” I flash him a coy smile, loving this flirtatious push and pull between us. “Or maybe I just see something I like...and I’m not afraid to go after it.”

Abe leans in closer, his woodsy, masculine scent wrapping around me. “That so?” His voice is a low rumble that I feel all the way to my core. “I think I’m really going to like getting to know you, Sera...”

Oh, not nearly as much as I’m going to enjoy unwrapping him later.

And I always take my time savoring the best gifts.

“So, how long have you boys lived in Vegas?” I ask, running my finger around the rim of my martini glass and keeping my gaze locked on Abe.

He shrugs those broad shoulders. “Couple years now. Still getting our feet wet though—we work a lot. Don’t leave much time for play.”

Rita chimes in from across the booth where she’s cozied up to Jack. “Oh? And what is it you do exactly?”

The men exchange a quick glance before Abe replies smoothly, “We’re operators. Heavy machinery. Do a lot of big jobs around town, especially casino remodels and shit.”

Casino remodels, huh?

I resist the urge to raise a brow. Interesting...

“Ooh, like construction work?” Rita asks, clearly impressed. “I bet that keeps you in great shape...”

“Among other things,” Jack replies with a wink, and she giggles.

But I’m far more intrigued by Abe’s answer.

There’s something about the way he said it—casual, but a little too rehearsed.

Makes me wonder if he’s actually a ditch digger, or if he is the guy who operates the machinery.

Not that I’m one to judge.

I’m certainly not here to play the honest game either.

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