Page 12 of The Playboy

“Why?”

“Because between us, names aren’t needed.”

Because she had no intention of letting me fuck her?

Or because it didn’t matter what I screamed, as long as I screamed out an orgasm?

To confirm, I asked, “What should I call you?”

“Hmm.” She glanced around the club, her gaze slowly returning to mine. It was then that she finally dropped her fingers into my palm. Rather than a shake, it was more like a pat. “How about the girl who got away?”

Whatever the fuck it was, I could feel the sensation of her touch throughout my entire body.

My skin overheated.

My cock throbbed to be released.

What are you doing to me?

She quickly pulled her fingers away, like she’d felt the same thing, and I said, “But you’re right in front of me. You’re notaway.”

“Now, I am, yes.”

“You’re saying you soon won’t be?” When she didn’t immediately respond, I added, “Do you want to know my name?”

She shook her head. “Like I said, names aren’t needed.”

And I was the relentless type?

This one wouldn’t give an inch.

“What if I just ask one of your friends?” I searched the area around us, figuring that some of the women nearby were with her.

Chicks always came to clubs in groups of two or three or even four. But as I scanned their faces, none of them were looking at us. I knew how female friends worked; when their girls were approached by a man, they watched every move he made, and there wasn’t a single set of hawk eyes glaring at me.

“What, you can’t find my friends?” she asked as my stare returned to her. Her eyelids narrowed, giving me the sense that she was looking right through me. “I’m here alone.”

Alone?

Women didn’t do that. At least not the ones I’d met.

She leaned down as though she had something important to tell me. “Women are allowed to go to clubs alone, you know. There’s no law that says we can’t.” When she straightened, her shoulders bounced to the new song vibrating through the speakers.

Intrigued was a fucking understatement.

I was haunted by her.

Captivated by every moment that had passed.

Cooper was right; a goddamn tsunami could come through, and I wouldn’t take my eyes off her or leave her side.

I let out a small laugh, adding up each time she’d surprised me tonight. “You’re unique.”

And so were her icy-blue eyes—a color I was positive I’d never seen before. The blue was so light that it was almost white.

“If you assumed I was like every other female in this club—you know, cut from the same cloth as her”—she nodded toward a blonde who was dancing not far from us—“or her”—this time, she chose a redhead—“I’d be extremely shocked.” She gripped the edge of the stage, her knuckles never changing hue. “You knew I was different. That’s what brought you over here. And that’s why you’re still here.”

I wanted to be closer to her.

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