Page 23 of Anger

I’m not exactly stunned by the question, especially because it tells me this is the twin who brushed past me on the way to the stairs that night. But the threat in his voice does nothing to settle my concern at being alone with him.

“I was with a friend.”

“Which friend?”

“Brinley. Do you know her?”

He shakes his head.

Silence falls between us for a few moments, that storm around him calming down.

“How about we promise to keep this a secret between us? Ezra doesn’t know about you. I plan to keep it that way. I already share too much with the bastard.”

Something dark flashes behind his eyes, but I refrain from asking about it. If he’s got family issues, that’s for him to work out. I can wiggle my ass to cheer him up, but I’m not a damn therapist.

Appeased by his response, I flash him a game smile.

“Then I’ll dance for you.”

Stepping away from him, I walk across the room to hit a button on the wall that dims the lights and starts the strobes and music. It’s something with a slower beat, sultry and seductive.

Our eyes meet across the room as I make my way to the platform and grip the pole.

Damon watches me like he wants to fondle, taste, bite, lick, pin me down and fuck.

But that’s not what I’ll give him, even if the thought hadn’t already crossed my mind.

I need to keep my head together in this. Losing even the slightest bit of resolve would be dangerous for us both.

My hips sway with the slow beat, my hands sliding up as I grab the pole above my head then turn to make a slow circle around it. I close my eyes so that the only thing I know is the music.

By the time I complete the rotation, I open my eyes to find Damon standing at the side of the small stage.

“How much to touch you?”

To say this man is eager is an understatement. Starving would be a better word, and I can’t figure out why. With looks like his, he can get any woman he wants, so why is he staring at me like a virgin at his high school prom?

I let go of the pole and step back because something is off about him.

Behind me is a button on the wall that I can hit if I need help. There’s one on every wall, in fact. Only rarely have the girls needed to use them, but with the rage and desperate need now shrouding this man, I’m not sure how he’ll like my answer.

“It’s not on the menu. Not with me, at least.”

He tilts his head just a touch, challenge dripping into his expression.

“Is that why I was kept from approaching you the last time I was here? You had one hell of a bodyguard at the base of your stairs before the fight broke out later.”

Hell, with the way he’s looking at me, I wish I had a bodyguard right now.

“Is that guy your boyfriend?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nope. He’s the manager here.”

“Why does he guard you like that?”

“Because he wants what he can’t have. And apparently, men can be jealous.”

He laughs softly, which surprises me.

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