Page 2 of Irresistibly Risky

She might have a point. Except this is my party. Something I don’t think she’s aware of. In fact, judging by the lack of recognition in her eyes, I’d say she has no clue who I am.

“How’d you get up onto this floor, beautiful?”

She laughs, the sound genuine and sweet, as she passes right by me, entering the stall and locking the door behind her. “Are you the club police?”

I grin, glad that she’s not uncomfortable that I’m still here and relieved that she didn’t ask me to leave. “Definitely not. I like you up here and think you should stay. I was simply curious since I hadn’t seen you earlier.”

“It’s my birthday,” she declares as I hear clothes being shifted this way and that, and I can’t stop the mental image that comes with that. “Are you still with me, muscles, or did you flee?” she asks when I don’t immediately respond.

I lean against the counter. “I’m still here.”

“Good stuff. Cover your ears for a minute, would ya?”

I can’t fight my laughter. “Sure. You need privacy.”

“You’re the one in the wrong room, but I kind of like talking with you, so give me a minute.”

“Done.” I cover my ears and even close my eyes, ignoring how that makes the room spin ever so slightly. A minute or so later, I hear the automatic toilet flush and drop my hands, shoving them into the pockets of my jeans.

“I’m done. You can listen now,” she calls out. “So, it’s my birthday, as I said,” she continues without waiting on me. “But it’s also my goodbye party. I’m leaving Miami tomorrow.”

“Funny. I am too.”

“How adorable. We both have something in common.” A moment later, she’s out of the stall, stumbling and staggering a bit until she’s beside me at the sink, washing her hands. I spin around, and my eyes meet hers in the mirror. “My work friend dared me to sneak onto the VIP floor, so I did it. After I had a few drinks and a birthday shot or two. I’m never daring, but she pushed me a bit by reminding me you only live once—”

“So live every day to the fullest,” I finish for her, and her face lights up.

She blinks at me, dumbfounded. “Yes. Exactly that. How did you know?”

I chuckle lightly. She’s adorable. And sexy. And a bit quirky, which I like in my women.

I fall in behind her, and my hands somehow decide to make their way to her hips over her dress. I pause. I wait. Her gaze snags on my hands on her body, and she drags in a heavy breath before her gaze meets mine once more.

“Because that’s precisely how I live my life,” I tell her. “This okay?” I check, my eyes flickering down to my hands and then back up to hers.

“I… um. Yes. I think so.” She licks her lips nervously and then laughs in a self-deprecating way. “Yes, it’s fine. I like it.” She flushes lightly. “It’s new for me. The most adventurous thing I’ve ever done is…” She pauses and scrunches up her face as she thinks about it. Then she sighs. A deep, heavy one. “You’re going to think I’m so lame.”

“Not even a little. Try me.” My hands slide forward and then up a little into the dip of her waist, and I can’t believe she’s letting me touch her like this, but I can’t stop it either. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so instantly and consumingly attracted to someone as I am to her.

“Okay. This. Sneaking up here tonight.”

“That’s…” I trail off.

“Lame, right? Totally, pathetically lame.”

I laugh at her horrified expression. “Maybe a bit, yeah. But hell, you’re here. You did the crazy thing. So let’s keep it going.”

She smiles a sassy, taunting smile that makes my heart smash against my ribcage and my cock ache in my jeans. “Keep it going, how?”

Oh, I can think of at least a hundred ways, and all of them involve her being naked. Leaning in, my lips meet the soft skin beneath her ear, inhaling her intoxicating fragrance. She trembles, her breath catching in her lungs, and I smirk, feeling like Hades stealing sweet Persephone or the serpent tempting a curious Eve to eat the apple.

“Wanna go out there and dance with me?”

She twists in my arms and peers up at me through her lashes. Her hands plant themselves on my chest, the warmth of her touch seeping through the cotton of my shirt. “l love to dance, but I’ll break an ankle in these shoes. I don’t even know why I wore them here. They’re terrible.”

I’m not the least bit disappointed by that. Every muscle in my body aches, and I’m covered in bruises from all the rough hits I took tonight. “Your shoes aren’t terrible. They’re sexy as fuck. But if it makes you feel better, I’m a terrible Scrabble player.”

She laughs. “Oh yeah? That’s hot. Tell me what else you’re bad at.”

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