Page 42 of Reckless King

She rolls her eyes. “And you were more than happy to give it to them.”

With a hum, I take her in from head to toe. “Much like a recent night at Onyx.”

She huffs, but her cheeks turn pink. “We should have made a stipulation that we aren’t allowed to mention that night.”

I smirk. “Too late now.”

She crosses her arms. “Verbal addendum.”

Damn, I love when she gets fired up like this. “Doesn’t count unless it’s signed.”

Her lips purse and her eyes narrow. “We can add it on Monday.”

“Sure, I’ll just email your brother and ask him to add in a line about not mentioning the night I finger-fu?—”

“Fine.” She shoots me a dirty little scowl. But a heartbeat later, that scowl transforms into a huge, beautiful smile.

My breath stalls in my chest. Damn. I don’t think Violet has ever smiled at me like that. It’s a breathtaking sight.

She pats me on the chest. “Thanks for the lesson. I think I’m getting the hang of it.” Then she turns away.

I can’t help the low laugh that rumbles out of me. When she looks back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling and a little smile of satisfaction playing on her lips, it hits me almost like a blow to the gut. I could get used to those smiles. The genuine ones. The ones she gives me when she lets her walls down.

Like some kind of lovesick puppy, I follow her to the bar, unwilling to let her get too far away. Not when she looks like that. I don’t even have to scan the crowd to know that every man in our proximity is watching her. When I get to where she’s waiting for me, I brace my hands on either side of her shoulders—not too close, not crossing any lines. Although right now I don’t just want to cross those lines, I want to erase them completely. But we have a contract, so this will have to do.

“You should be more careful, butterfly,” I say in a low voice so no one else can hear me.

“Why?”

Her pulse is throbbing erratically at the base of her throat. The sight of it triggers a memory. A sensation. The feel of it under my tongue.

My dick swells in my pants. If I pressed a few inches closer, she’d feel it. Instead, I hold myself still while I answer her. “I could get addicted to the way you smile at me.”

Her eyes widen and her lips part. The satisfaction that hits me is short-lived though. Before Violet can come up with aretort, we’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat from behind me.

I hold Violet’s gaze for a beat longer, then turn, tempering my expression so it doesn’t show my annoyance.

“Hello, Tate,” the familiar blond-haired woman purrs. “It’s been a while.”

Amy’s a socialite whose family moves in similar circles to mine. The heir to her mother’s makeup empire, she spends her days dipping her toes into whatever job takes her fancy. “Amy, how are you?”

“I’m wonderful now,” she coos, fluttering her lashes at me. The predatory glint in her eye is unmistakable.

“This is Violet,” I say, resting my hand on the small of her back.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Violet says with a smile.

Amy rakes her gaze over Violet, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Delighted.” That single word is clipped, an obvious dismissal. Then she turns her attention back to me.

I grit my teeth at her rudeness. “Violet’s my girlfriend.”

Amy’s eyes widen, and she turns back to Violet, this time scrutinizing her more thoroughly. “Girlfriend?”

“That’s right.”

She touches my arm and trills a laugh. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

“So, what do you do, Amy?” Violet asks, far more graciously than Amy deserves, considering how she’s acting.

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