Page 66 of SWAT

I knocked his arm away, glared at him and raised my other hand, ready to throat punch his thick neck.

A firm grip went around my wrist.

“You’ll blow it,” Sean said into my ear. “Let me.”

Adrenaline had surged into my bloodstream. Fight or flight…fight!

I blew out a breath and struggled to release the tension in my arm. There were only four men on the planet who were allowed to touch my thigh that way. And the lingering sensation of his gross touch made me shudder.

“Stay away from my woman,” Sean said, menace in his tone.

“You need to share women here, pretty boy. Get her up on stage so we can all have a go.”

“I’ll fuck you up,” Sean said. “Get out of my face.”

“You really think you can?” he snarled.

“Yeah, actually I do.”

I turned to Sean, not sure how much of this was an act now or if he was really going to take this guy down. “Sweetie,” I said, cupping his jaw, “it was nothing, leave it. Come on, you said you’d take me to a booth.”

“Want company?” Again the asshole leered at me. “Two cocks are better than one.”

I smiled. “My fiancé doesn’t share.” Linking my fingers with Sean’s, I tugged him away.

“Fuck, you’re under the thumb, pretty boy.” A loud guffaw trailed after us.

I was pleased when Sean didn’t pause. Didn’t react. Instead he leaned close, his chest against my back. “Fiancé, huh?”

“I had to say something.”

“Ah, I thought you were proposing.”

“In your dreams.”

He laughed and kissed my neck, just below my ear.

A lovely warmth wound around my shoulders. I liked being close to Sean. I hoped I would be again soon.

“This way,” Jonathan said, rounding the corner.

A narrow corridor, brick-walled, stretched before us. It was dark and the pulsing music echoed around it. At the far end light spilled from an open doorway.

“Let’s go see what’s going down in there.” Jonathan smoothed his hand over his shirt and I knew he was checking his weapon, a subconscious action.

“Is that where the two girls went?” I asked.

“I’d put money on it.” Sean was close behind me as we walked.

When we reached the end, I ordered Sean and Jonathan to switch places. “If Mark Sands is in there, he’ll see you, Jonathan, and if he remembers you from the other club our cover will be blown.”

“Good call, boss.”

“He’s seen me too,” Sean said, “when the motherfucker was shooting at me in the park.”

“That was only for a split second. You’re going in, Sean.” I paused. “Hopefully Ricardo is already in there.”

The door was ajar. Jonathan and I held back as Sean pushed it wider.

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