Page 30 of Tempting Little Thief

My eyes narrow on the blond hair before me. “I could have snapped your neck.”

“Better than you storming in there and snapping hers.”

“Is it, though?” I press firmer, and his hands lift into the air in front of him. “If I remember right, we both agreed I should have doneexactlythat three months and seven days ago.”

“Nice to know you’re no longer obsessing over that day, and in case it needs to be said, you know you can’t kill your sister. That was a conversation to make you feel better.”

Shoving Dom away, I whip around, moving quickly to the main Greyson door, and of course, Dom follows. His arms wrap around me from behind just as the doors open for us.

Clenching my teeth together, I allow him to walk me inside, his hold tightening once we’re out of the hall. The back entrance to the suite faces nothing but a narrow hallway, allowing for an extra hint of anonymity,just in case.

Dom’s left hand slides lower until it’s clasped over my hip, his right coming up to glide down my arm. “Don’t be upset with me.”

“Don’t get in my way.”

“Not my intention.” His lips press into my hair, the warmth of his breath against my skin causing the anger boiling in me to slide farther south. Damiano senses it, and the hand on my hip squeezes.

“Your prospect did good. Calvin said she didn’t make eye contact with a soul all night,” he murmurs.

“She didn’t,” I confirm, the level of eye candy slipping to the forefront of my mind. I tip my head slightly, meeting his brown eyes. “Hell of an attendee list, by the way.”

“The Sandsburn row team was passing through on their way to a conference. They were happy to have a night out.”

“Welldone, Mr. Donato. They were a perfect test of temptation for the girl.”

At my compliment, Damiano stands taller, his tongue slipping free to wet the natural swell of his lips. He dips closer and I keep my gaze on his. He smiles as his mouth comes down on the corner of mine, applying the smallest bit of pressure, testing to see what I might do.

“Can I help you out of this dress?” he whispers, and when I don’t pull back, he shifts slightly so he’s more at my side. His fingers span out, lowering from the curve of my hip to the curve of my ass, and then continue lower until the hem is in his grasp. He lifts it slowly, eyes growing darker before me.

He leans in again, and then his body stills, his hand going up to press on his earpiece.

“On my way.” He steps back, dropping a quick peck to my cheek. “They need me in the control room.”

I nod, facing forward as I remove the horrendous pearls from my ears.

“Hey, Dom?” I call out, knowing he’s yet to cross the threshold into the hall. “Let Valley come to you.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I meet his stare as I take off the other earring. I don’t have to say what I mean. He knows.

The man has a knack forwelcomingthe girls once they enter, but there’s something about Valley. I don’t want her mind to swim into still water if she’s not the one who jumps in first.

Damiano can’t help them swim, he knows this, and while most of our girls who fall into him are aware, every so often, there’s one whose common sense gets lost in translation. I don’t want to risk her being one. Again, unless she puts herself there.

A small smirk forms on his lips, and he gives a curt nod, disappearing out the door.

With a sigh, I contemplate my next move. To change and go to my girls for a guaranteed good night, or slip back into the hall with a fresh set of daggers, ready to dip them into the girl in the room two doors down from this one?

I close my eyes when Dom’s footsteps come right back as if he knew I might sway on my decision to play nice the moment he left. “You’ve convinced me to control myself tonight, Dom.” Lie. “Go.”

His hand comes around me, pressing firmly against my neck, and my head falls back against his shoulder, his warm breath at my ear once more. “That’s all that was, huh?”

The thick, throaty question tickles along my skin, and a low, derisive laugh pushes past my lips. My eyes flick open, narrowing on the ceiling. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Maybe I got you wrong, Rich Girl.” Tattooed knuckles come into view, but I don’t so much as breathe when they come around, locking along my jaw. He tips my head to the side, and our eyes clash.

Mine flare, the sight far more intoxicating than I remember.

Glacier-blue eyes impale me, long, thick,blacklashes framing them. He cocks his head, his blink a low, lazy one. “You the white knight needin’ type?”

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