Page 22 of Reckless King

He inclines his head, and my heart plummets. How could this happen? Tate King, arrogant bastard, playboy extraordinaire. And last week I let him… He had his fingers in my…

I press my hand to my stomach. “You knew?” A wave of humiliation and betrayal crashes over me, making my face flame. I back away from him, but he stops me by taking hold of my arm, his grip firm but not painful.

“I didn’t,” he says. “Not then.”

Rigid in his hold, I shake my head. Even if he’s telling the truth… “You came tonight though. Expecting what? To go even further? To havesex?”

Anna steps closer to me. “What’s going on? Do you want me to have security come back?”

Based on the interaction only a moment ago, security knows exactly who he is, so I’m not sure that will be any help.

Tate’s jaw clenches. “Let me explain, Violet.”

Now I know why the prickly irritation that hit me last weekend felt so familiar. It’s the same reaction I used to have when I visited Mark at college and had to spend time with his infuriating roommate—one of the few people who could get under my skin, and who seemed to enjoy it far too much. I cross my arms over my chest, eyes narrowed. “Go on, then. Explain.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TATE

The anger and betrayal are practically rolling off her.

I quickly survey the crowded dance floor, noting the people still eyeing us after the disruption. The disruptionIcaused. My reaction to seeing that man’s hands and mouth on her might have been a little over the top. It’s far from my usual response when it comes to women. “Not here,” I say to her. “Come to one of the private rooms.”

She tugs her arm back, and I release my grip. Holding on to her right now isn’t going to help.

“You think I’d go to asexroom with you?” she hisses, glaring at me through slitted blue eyes.

I can’t help it. I almost smile at her outrage. She’s recovering her equilibrium, and there’s fire in her gaze now. The way my dick twitches probably makes me a little twisted. “Not for sex. So I can explain in private.”

She lifts her chin and with those still-narrowed eyes, her expression is so familiar, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her last week. This is the look she’d give me during her visits to Mark, when she couldn’t help but argue with me. The one she’d hit me with just before a snarky comment would pop out of her mouth.

Before she can refuse, I casually shrug, knowing it will rile her up. “Of course, if you think you won’t be able to control yourself alone with me…”

Her full lips press together. “Fine. But you only get fifteen minutes, and then Anna and I are out of here.” She turns to her friend, who’s watching in avid interest. “Right?”

“Right. Fifteen minutes,” Anna replies, tapping the slim watch on her wrist. “I’ll be timing you.”

It’s wrong, and it will only serve to piss her off more, but I can’t help myself from leaning close and whispering in Violet’s ear. “Are you giving me a time challenge? Because I’mverygood at performing under those circumstances.”

She snorts, turning her head just enough to meet my gaze from the corner of one narrowed blue eye. “I’m not surprised, considering all thepracticeyou’ve had. Of course, that’s with women who are actually attracted to you.”

“You certainly seemed attracted to me last week.”

The way her jaw drops before snapping shut again tells me the reminder probably wasn’t welcome.

I take a step back. If I don’t stop pushing my luck, I’ll lose the opportunity to explain. With a deep breath, I rein myself in. “Come on,” I say. Without thinking, I reach down and thread my fingers through hers.

I half expect her to jerk away, and I wouldn’t blame her if she did.

But she doesn’t.

She looks over at her friend. “Will you be okay?”

Anna nods. “I’ll shake my booty for another fifteen minutes, then we’re out of here. You can explain,” her gaze flicks to me, then back to Violet, “everythingon the drive home.”

Not waiting for Violet to change her mind, I lead her off the dance floor, weaving through the writhing bodies. It’s only whenwe reach the entrance to the back area that she hesitates. I stop and turn to her.

“I—uh,” she stutters, focusing on anything other than my face. “I haven’t been back here. Is there going to be…stuffhappening?”

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