Page 34 of Unmasked

“All right, grumpy old man,” Sandra said as she slid out of the booth behind him, shaking her head. “Time to go.”

“There’s a VIP bar through the doors over there,” Jerry said, pointing. “Marcella has your details if you’d like to go in for a drink. It’s very private, so you don’t need to worry about people bothering you. But you can stay at the table as long as you like.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.” Lainey smiled, and the room felt as though it’d brightened by a million watts. She stayed seated by Damian’s side, blocking the entrance to the booth and waiting until Jerry and Sandra had left the area. “Would you like to get a drink?”

He shouldn’t encourage bad decisions—or rather, a repeat of bad decisions. “I should take you home,” he said.

“Should?” She raised a brow. “Come on, it’s one drink. You’re trying to get this guy’s business. It would be rude to decline.”

“One drink,” he said, giving her a firm look. “And that’s it.”

Looking far too much like the cat who’d got the cream, she slid out of the booth and headed toward the VIP bar without waiting for him. He stared after her—admiring the curve of her shapely behind through the tight fabric of her dress.

His cock stirred and Damian cursed himself. Normally, it was easy to maintain platonic relationships. In fact, not a single one of the women in his circle had ever made him think twice about his “no sex between friends” rule. Not a single one had even come close to tempting him. But Lainey had him hot and bothered like nothing else.

“Get your head in the game,” he said to himself as he followed her.

In the VIP area, the lights were dimmed, a soft glow emanating from the bauble-like chandeliers that hung around the room. The atmosphere held a pleasurable intimacy, perfect for secret sharing and arm touching. He recognised a few of the patrons—a local politician, a TV host he’d met during his time on Australia’s Most Eligible. No one even looked in their direction. Damian let out a breath.

Lainey headed to the bar and ordered a drink. When it arrived she traced her finger around the rim of the shot glass, the movement slow and languid. It was all too easy to imagine her circling the tip of his cock like that.

“Drink up,” he said. “Then I can get you home.”

“I meant one drink for you.” A smile quirked on her lips. “I’m not going to limit myself.”

He sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Having a drink with my fiancé.” Her eyes were piercing, like polished amber. “You invited me—the least you can do is let me enjoy a few drinks.”

“We’re not having this argument again,” he grumbled. “You set these wheels in motion.”

“That’s the adult version of saying ‘you started it.’”

“You did start it.”

“And you finished it. Three times.” She smirked. “Always the overachiever.”

A few strands of her hair slipped seductively over one eye. She dipped her pinkie into the shot glass and sucked it clean. The creamy liquid moistened her lips, and Damian felt his mouth run dry. He reached down to adjust himself, finding his cock fully hard and pressing against the zipper of his pants. Christ, how did she manage to do that?

“What are you drinking?” he asked, forcing his mind away from the cleavage peeking out of the top of Lainey’s dress.

“Buttery nipple,” she replied with eyes wide and purposefully innocent.

Heat flooded his stomach, and he felt his cock clench in response to her full lips wrapping around the shooter’s name. And she was doing it on purpose, the devil. She brought the squat glass to her lips and tilted her head back in one liquid movement. Desire blanked out Damian’s senses so that all he could see was the ivory column of her neck and the thrust of her breasts as she threw her head back.

“Delicious.” She licked her lips. “You should try it.”

Stifling the impulse to reach out and pull her into a kiss, Damian pressed his hips against the bar in an attempt to dispel his throbbing hard-on. But all it did was give him the friction he craved and bring him another merciless inch closer to Lainey.

“Are you drunk?” He pulled on his arsenal of big-brother interrogations to force some distance between them.

“Not yet.” She grinned, and he could see the tip of her pink tongue between her teeth. “But I could be.”

“Behave yourself, Lainey,” he warned, though it was more for himself than it was for her.

She rolled her eyes and blinked her long, sooty lashes at him. “Learn to have a little fun, Damian.”

He had to get out of there. If he watched her down another shooter, he might be tempted to kiss the flavour from her lips, and who knew where that would end up. It was impossible not to notice her body or the sexual energy that swam thick in the air around her.

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