Page 32 of Mace

“The only thing that’ll ruin my night, sweetheart, is you not giving me your number.”

Even if this guy was the most attractive man on the planet, I wouldn’t risk my job for a quick fumble.Would he be so eager to get in my pants if he knew I had zero experience with men?

They assume because I work here and dress the way Ido that I’m some kind of sex goddess between the sheets. They would laugh if they knew I’ve never been touched before.

Mace would laugh too.

“How about I get you another drink instead?”

This guy isn’t much older than I am, and although he has the daft grin of someone who has drank far more than he should, my instincts warn me to be careful.

I’ve become pretty good at working out who is dangerous and who is harmless, but this guy falls somewhere in the middle, which means this interaction could go either way… and that makes him more deadly. I don’t like unpredictability.

His eyes are heavy as he takes me in, dropping to my breasts and openly ogling them.Perve.

“I didn’t bank on you playing hard to get, sweetheart. Figured all you girls would be gagging for it.” He grabs his cock through his pants as he says it, and my stomach turns inside out.

Gross.

One thing this job has taught me is that some men—particularly those who come here—are pigs.

“I’m not playing games, and I don’t give out my phone number.”

The easy way he leans back in his chair, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, has me wondering if this guy has ever heard the word ‘no’. His entire group gives me that vibe.

“Oh, come on, darlin’. Let me take you back to my hotel. I’ll give you the best night of your life. I’ll shove my cock so hard into your cunt, you’ll feel me for a week.”

Those words spoken into my ear freeze my blood, butnot as much as his friends beginning to take interest in what’s happening. My pulse spikes as I lift my gaze, scanning the room for Steve or one of the other guys, but they’re dealing with what looks like trouble in Bella’s section.

Shit.

“Easy there, Casanova.”

Without warning, he pulls me into his lap, his arm banding around my waist like a clamp. I drop my tray, losing it in the shadows between the tables.

Shit, shit, shit.

I can’t even see Steve or Archie anymore. Everyone nearby is focused on Candy gliding around the pole on stage, not on the man holding me prisoner against his body.

“Okay, big guy, time to let go. I have to get back to work.” He doesn’t listen, his hold stopping my lungs from working properly.

I’m on my own, and there is no way I’m letting this asshat assault me. I tear at Casanova’s arms, no doubt leaving deep scratches in his skin, but he doesn’t release his hold on me as his nose nuzzles into the crook of my neck and his fingers squeeze my breast.

I stop breathing, and my mouth dries as my heart skitters behind my ribs. Then I find my voice.

“Get off me!” I scream the words, even though I know they won’t be heard over the pulsing bass. We’re far enough from the stage to be hidden from the lights, and I’m not sure anyone can even see me in his lap.

Where the hell is Steve, or Archie, or anyone?

He grabs my nape in an iron-clad grasp that has me sucking in a breath. “Stop playing hard to get, you dirtylittle slut,” he growls in my ear, and I let out a cry of pain as his grip tightens on my neck, forcing my head forward.

My breath is loud in my ears as I fight to get free, but he’s immovable, and I’m too fucking weak.

Casanova releases his hold on me suddenly, and I fling myself off his lap, stumbling into a nearby table, my knees almost scraping the floor as I gasp.

Holding the back of my aching neck, I turn, and my stomach hollows out. Mace is standing behind my attacker, his fingers fisted into Casanova’s hair. He drags his head so far back, his watering eyes are forced to the ceiling.

Mace’s expression is a mask of fury as he snarls down at the man who, moments ago, seemed so dangerous. He’s the one who looks weak now.

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