Page 22 of Anger

“Well, I’ve seen you before, Champ. And either you’re the one who started a fight here a few weeks ago, or you’re that one’s twin brother. So, I’ll ask you another question. What’s your brother’s name?”

His eyes leave mine to crawl down for another view I’m giving him, his lips parting just slightly at the better sight of my breasts. I can feel that heated stare, the need that has now entered the storm that surrounds him.

I can’t claim I’m not affected. My thighs tighten, and my heart beats a little faster. It’s a fight not to react.

“How much for you to take your top off?”

Oh, he is a crazy boy. Dirty minded and filthy. It sucks because this is my favorite type, which makes him that much more dangerous for me.

“It’ll cost the answer to my question.”

Why so cheap?

Because I’m dying to know who I’m dealing with. And knowing there’s another one out there who’s identical to him, I need this information before ending up a game to both of them.

“Damon,” he finally says, his voice rough with want. “I’m the one who was in the fight, and my brother’s name is Ezra.” His eyes dart back to mine. “Now take it off, Blue.”

More a command than a request, his tone of voice spears through my body to all the places I’d rather it not touch.

I must be slowly succumbing to his storm because the heat that swirls behind his eyes is palpable in me too.

It’s a mistake I can’t afford to make, but I find myself playing along regardless.

Pushing off his chest and standing to my full height, I keep our stares tangled together as I reach behind and undo the studded bra top. It falls to the floor, and I feel more naked now than I’ve ever felt in my life.

I feel completely exposed, even though I’m still wearing my panties and shorts.

They’re just tits.

All the other dancers have seen them at one point or another while we were getting in costume in the dressing room, and Granger’s seen them a dozen times. I’m not shy about them. But for some reason, his eyes make me want to cross my arms over my chest, cover myself up because I can’t handle his scrutiny.

Damon looks down at my chest, his biceps flexing as his upper teeth scrape over his bottom lip.

A stupid woman would want to know what those teeth would feel like on her body, and I think my IQ just dropped down to that of a rock because I want to know more than that.

The physical pull between us is unimaginable. I’ve never felt this way before, and it scares the hell out of me.

For that reason alone, I know I need to keep this professional.

“You’re beautiful.”

That may be so, but I still want to know if this is a game.

“Where is your brother tonight?”

The storm changes so suddenly that I catch my breath. Sharp lightning replaces the distant rumble of thunder, his eyes narrowing on mine.

“Does it fucking matter?” he asks.

His jaw tics after answering the question, and I know I’ve approached a line that leads to violence.

You can’t look at him without knowing he’s been through some shit. And whatever the hell it is may just be dark enough to rival mine.

Hoping the truth will soothe whatever rage is running through him, I answer honestly.

“I’m trying to make sure I don’t end up a game between you two. That’s all. I know you’re identical and—”

“Why were you at the governor’s mansion?”

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