Page 3 of The Owner's Temptation

Harper keeps on walking, looking back at me with a smile and wagging her eyebrows.

The bouncer waves us through the roped entry to the VIP lounge and we stroll up to the bar.

“So, did that guy,–”

“Not even fucking close.” She cuts me off, giving a nod to the bartender and holding up her empty glass. “That man is a two-pump chump. Guarantee it.”

I shake my head, looking back in the crowd and trying to find him again.

Poor guy.

Harper is like a Venus Flytrap. Ready to sink her jaws into any man, chew him up and spit him out.

She claps her hands, turning around and leaning her back against the bar. “Okay, what are we in the mood for tonight, Sienna? Some chow-time in the bathroom?”

“Good lord.” I look around seeing if anyone is listening.

“Someone to finger you in the rideshare on the way home?” She lists the option off like she’s picking toppings for her sub-sandwich. “I’m personally looking for a cute face to ride.”

“Harper!”

“What?” She shrugs as the bartender puts her new drink down, sliding it to her with a wink. “You know, a strong jaw, some stubble for a little extra–umph.” She keeps her eyes on the bartender and nudges me with her elbow. “Please tell me Boring Ben at lease let you ride his tongue once or twice.”

I wince, taking my tiny straw between my teeth.

Harper wears a look of utter disbelief. “I’m terrified for you actually.”

“Can I be honest with you?” I look around again, making sure we’re alone. She leans in toward me.

“Oh girl spill it. The tea is piping hot, I can tell.”

I’m already blushing. I can feel my face getting hotter.

Just as I’m about to open my mouth, the words get stuck. Suddenly, I wish I hadn’t said anything.

“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t back out now. Give it to me.” She takes a long pull from her new cocktail. Her eyes focused on me like I’m about to tell her the secret to world peace.

“Ben never actually…” I’m not sure how to finish it but Harper seems to have caught on.

“Oh, you sweet summer child.” She gives me a slow, pitiful shake of her head. “We are officially on booty-call duty for you. A man to stick his tongue as deep in your snatch as possible.”

“Oh, my God.” I give myself an actual facepalm, running my hand down slowly.

“And for the record, I want to stab Boring-Ben in his mediocre little dick.”

I laugh, turning around with Harper to watch the dance floor too.

She starts calling out prospects, then immediately telling me why they do not make the cut.

I don’t hear her, though, because I’m focusing every ounce of my attention on the man walking into the VIP lounge.

Tall. Dark. Dangerous.

A tailored navy suit clings to his powerful frame, broad shoulders commanding the space like he owns the air itself. His sharp, steel-gray eyes scan the room with cool disinterest—until they land on me.

And then, for asinglebreathless second, the worldstops.

I forget my name. I forget how to function as a human being. My skin feels too tight, my heart hammers in my ribs like it’s trying to break out.

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