It’s Friday night, and Rheda and I are in a cab on our way to Pulse. I’m still shaken up by last night’s argument with Ignacio. His level of violence truly shook me to the core. I don’t know how to process my emotions surrounding it. He’s not the same person I fell in love with as a teenager. He’s different in so many ways. He used to talk to me about his dreams; dreams that included me. Now we can barely speak without arguing. His touch used to set me on fire, but now it sends cold shivers throughout my body. What happened to us and how did we get here? I want to turn tail and run home; forget about going to Pulse with Rheda. Forget about the man who lit me up just so Iggy could shut me down.

            “Anaya! Are you listening to me?” Rheda barks.

            “Hmm… What? You said something?” I ask, my thoughts on everything but my friend.

            “Yes. We’re here. Come on.” She pulls on my arm and we slide from the car. “What’s with you tonight? You’ve been out of it the whole ride here. You and Iggy have a fight?” Concern flickers across her face.

            “What? Oh, no. He came home drunk and went to bed,” I lie. Now I know why abused women lie and cover up their bruises. It’s because they’re partially embarrassed, and also to protect the men they love. Twisted, yes, but that’s exactly how my mind is processing this at the moment.

            She stares at me before giving me a hesitant nod and tilting her head in the club’s direction. "Okay, girl, come on, let’s party our asses off!”

            I smile hesitantly her as I take in the scene. The line has to be about two blocks long. Tons of people are going to get turned away tonight. But not us. We stop only long enough to tell the bouncer our names, then we bypass the line.

Another large, tatted man escorts us into the building, through the mayhem of bodies dancing and pressing up against one another, right to our VIP table, complete with chilled champagne. Our server pops the cork and pours us each a glass. Rheda downs her drink instantly and pours herself another.

            “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or what?” Rheda peers at me over the rim of her nearly empty champagne glass.

            “Nothing. My mind is drifting because I’m trying to nail down some ideas for the club, that’s all,” I lie again. If I were a religious person, I’d swear I was headed to Hell for all the lies I’m telling. Especially to Rheda. My best friend.

            She cocks a knowing eyebrow at me, as if to call me on my shit. “It’s about Iggy, isn’t it?”

I’m about to lie to her again but she raises her hand to stop me, then shakes her head. “I know it is. And I also know you’ll never admit it to me. Listen, just so you know what’s going on—because I’m almost positive he hasn’t said a word to you—someone took shots at him last night. We don’t know who yet. Also, someone has been attacking his supply houses.”

“H-he didn’t tell me,” I stammer. Unbelievable. The man nearly dies and doesn’t bother to tell me. What am I to him, really? How can he not share something like that with me? Honestly, it hurts. It hurts to know I mean so little to him, especially after how long we’ve been together, how much of my life I’ve given him.

            Rheda offers me a sad smile. “I had a feeling he didn’t, but there it is in a nutshell, honey. He’s old school. He won’t tell his woman about what he considers his failure as a leader. I’m not saying he’s all hearts and roses, but it might explain why he’s acting different.”

I nod, understanding what she’s saying, though not understanding Iggy’s idiotic mindset.

“Come on, let’s dance!” She stands, shaking her ass. Still not out of my own head and ready to cut loose, I shake my head. She waves as she heads to the dance floor, and is instantly swarmed by men. By her smile and glowing face, I know she’s enjoying the attention. Not that I blame her.

That could be me. I could be letting go, having a blast. Letting men touch me, touching them, and letting everything else just fall away under the music, lights, and heat. But I can’t.

As if I already didn’t have enough to think about, Rheda throws Iggy’s near-death into the mix. How am I supposed to feel about all this—everything—every damn thing that’s happened over the last week alone? Someone took a shot at Iggy last night? He keeps everything about his business a secret. Sometimes I wonder if that’s the reason we’ve drifted apart over the years. My heart breaks a little for what we’ve lost. I thought we were best friends, but maybe the depth of our relationship was all in my head. Maybe he never felt as deeply for me as I had for him.

As a teenager, with my bouncing around from home to home, he remained the one normal, constant thing in my life. Sometimes I look at him and wonder if he still loves me at all. I think, deep down inside, I know he doesn’t. I’m just a possession to him. Something he owns, like a car or a pair of shoes. Do I want Iggy hurt? No, I don’t. But I don’t deserve the violence, the coldness, and infidelity.

I lift my glass of champagne and take a sip, looking around the crowded club as throngs of people pulse together to the music. Then I see him standing by the bar. I can’t see his face, but I’d know that ass anywhere. Shifting on the smooth black leather seat, I cross my legs and contemplate if I should go over to him. Maybe he can help me forget my lonely existence in a loveless relationship, even if for a moment.

Taking a few more sips of my liquid courage, I stand and smooth down my turquoise silk mini dress that hugs all of my curves. Placing one foot in front of the other, an extra sway in my hips, I make my way to him. Trying to maneuver through the press of frolicking dancers, I now know what popcorn feels like bouncing around in the bag in the microwave.

Long gone are the ripped jeans and dirty t-shirt that he wore a few days ago. He’s in a suit, an expensive one at that. He’s still facing away from me, but I see his muscles flex, as if stiffening. Does he know I’m here? Can he sense me? He lifts his head from his drink. “Jack and Coke for the lady,” he says to the bartender, not yet turning to see if I’m even there.

            “How did you know I was behind you?” I ask, stunned. Is he some kind of sexy, well-dressed wizard?

            He slowly turns to face me. Our eyes meet. At that moment, I feel owned. I’m scared, but willing. “You don’t know?” he asks, raising a dark eyebrow.

            “No, I don’t. How did you know?”

            He steps closer and I catch the scent of his cologne, coupled with his own crisp, clean aroma.

“It’s how you sensed me near you that first day. You felt it then, and you feel it now.” He steps back and leans against the bar, grabbing the drink he ordered for me. He offers it to me and I take it, gulping down a fortifying mouthful. This man could drive any woman to drink. Thankfully, I have more control than that.

I think.

            “I don’t know what you mean,” I lie. More lies? Yup, headed straight to Hell.

            He smirks at me. “Sure you don’t.” Again, he looks at me as if he’s told a joke and I’m the dummy who doesn’t know the punchline.

            Uncomfortable, I look around, watching the dancers for a moment before turning back to him. “It seems I’m always catching you drinking on the job.”

            He shrugs. “Are you going to tell on me?” His eyes are swimming with mirth.

            “If you keep the free booze coming my way, I won’t tell if you don’t,” I tease right back.

            “Did I get the color right?” he asks in between taking sips from his drink.

            I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion.

            “The flowers. Did I get the color right?”

            I giggle and looked down at my feet before looking back up at him. “Oh, that. Yes. Yes, you did.”

            “Did you tell your boyfriend about them?” His grin is wide and his eyes twinkle.

            Boyfriend? That’s right, I do have one, don’t I. My chin tilts down and I cough. “Umm. No. There was no reason to, actually. Iggy wouldn’t care. Besides, you sent them as an apology for being an asshole earlier.” I try to smile but it wavers. Iggy wouldn’t care if a man sent me flowers. But he’d kill me if I fuck another man.

            “Really? So, what you’re saying is your boyfriend is cool with random men sending his woman flowers?”

            There is one thing Tony Delaney is not, and that is random. There is nothing random about this hunk of a sexy specimen that stands before me.

            He steps closer to me and dips his head to my ear. His warm breath coasts my neck and I shiver. “If you were my woman, I’d kill any man that sent you flowers. You see, that would be my job and my job alone. I’d hate any man that brought a smile to your face, because I wasn’t the one who put it there. I’m a greedy bastard, and I’d want to own your heart, your body, your soul, and everything else about you.”

            Before I can even blink, he is back in his original position at the bar, staring at the dancing patrons as if he had no effect on me whatsoever. As if his words didn’t just rock the fuck out of me and tilt my world on its axis.

            His topaz eyes smolder with intensity, and I lick my lips nervously. He reaches out and brushes a tendril away from my face and I lean in toward him, hoping to prolong the briefest of touches. He locks me into his gaze and doesn’t let go. My knees begin to wobble as goosebumps appear all over my skin. His warmth, coupled with my own, feels like we can set this building on fire. His look turns to lust and I feel my thong get wet with need. A slow lazy smile spreads across his face as he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a quarter, and holds it up to show me both sides of the coin. I stare at it, then to him in confusion. “Call it,” he declares out of nowhere.

            “What? Call what?”

            “Heads or tails, Angel?” He takes a step closer.

            “What do I win?” I ask, swallowing hard.

            He bends and inclines his head to my ear. “Pleasure. It’s always pleasure with me.” He steps back again with a bemused smile. “Ready?”

            “But, what do I lose?” Hopefully, it’s my underwear.

            He wiggles his eyebrows. “Nothing at all. It’s all about varying degrees of pleasure. Now, call it.” He holds the coin up and tosses it in the air. Catching it, he holds it on the counter, his hand hiding the coin from view. He stares at me, waiting for my reply.

            “Tails. I call tails,” I say, as I imagine myself ass up, face down, him pounding into me with long, deep strokes.

            He smiles, lifting his hand. “Looks like it’s heads.” He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. I barely have enough time to set my drink on the bar.

            “I won a dance?” I challenge. I was kind of hoping I won something more.

            Pulling me into his solid body, he sways to the music, to his own personal rhythm, and I feel as if the world has stopped for this moment. “If you’d gotten tails, I would have fucked you in one of the offices. Since you lost the toss, you get this dance instead.”

            Wait! What? Can I get a do-over? “Oh,” is all I manage to say as I try masking my disappointment.

            He pulls me in tighter and I feel every inch of him and his movements. He’s a smooth dancer, and his rhythm is easy to follow. He’s controlling me and the situation, and I like it. If I had to compare him to an animal, he’d be a panther. Yeah, he’s definitely a panther. Lithe, forceful, and sexy—with a hint of danger. Instinct tells me I should run and never look back, but something stronger, deeper, captures me. I couldn’t run even if I wanted to.

His scent is seductive, and I inhale him like a drug, feeling high. I place my hands on his tapered waist and feel his muscles bunching and flexing through the material of his shirt. I close my eyes and picture a perfect V cut into his abs. I imagine myself tracing my tongue around the cuts of his eight pack. I want to lick all of him like a lollipop. And possibly, just maybe, take a bite. With my face pressed against his chest, I smile at my thoughts.

Oh, this man, he has me forgetting who I am and all about the dangerous man who lies in my bed on occasion. Reopening my eyes, I look up to see his dilated pupils aflame with passion. Does he want this as badly as I do? I see a fleeting pained expression on his face. He stops dancing and grabs my hand, pulling me off the dance floor. I miss the closeness of him and want to make him stop so I can fold myself back into his embrace. Lost in my thoughts, I pause. Sensing my hesitation, he turns and smiles.

“Don’t worry. Come with me.”

And I do. I follow him because I don’t have a choice. It’s not that he’s taken it from me. No, not that at all. It’s because I know he and I are inevitable, and I’ve decided to see it through. He leads me into a back corner, far from the maddening crowd, to a hidden door. He swipes his card through a digital lock and opens it, allowing me to step in first. It’s a storage room.

I turn to ask him why we’re in here but he grabs me and backs me against a rough brick wall, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, and he kisses me before I can get a word out. His kiss is dominating yet soft, fierce yet gentle, demanding yet playful. His strong arms hold firmly to my back and, every now and then, tugs at my dress. A dress I hope he takes—no, rips—off of me. I feel starved and I’m ready to devour this man. I feel his cock fighting to break free. I wiggle down to greet his hardening bulge, yearning for the friction. He moans into my mouth, releasing his hold on me. He presses my back flush against the wall and places his hands on either side of me. Slowly, he moves his hands down to my waist and pulls away, placing me back on the ground. His lips are stained with my lipstick and I want to muss him up a little more.

            “I’ve wanted to do that since you walked in four days ago,” he growls against my ear.

            I shudder in response. “Why didn’t you?” I ask, curious.

            Smirking at me, as usual, he admits, “Looking for the right time, right place, I guess.”

            “Oh, really? So, right now, in the storage room, is the right time and place?” Who am I kidding? Anytime, anywhere would have been the right time and place. An alley, pumping gas, washing windows… I’m not picky.

            “The right place and time is yours to choose.” He bends down and kisses me again, and I want to melt into him. He pulls away from the kiss, staring at me with dark and ravenous eyes.

            “Fuck me. Fuck me, now.” Hold on. Did those words just come out of my mouth? Maybe he didn’t hear me. His eyes flicker with amusement. Damn, he heard.

            “Aggressive, aren’t we? I like my women aggressive, in a way. Just as long as you remember that, in my bed, I control you and everything about you.”

            Yeah, I heard, “Blah, blah, blah.” What about sex? I’ll take it however I can get it at this point. On the floor, the wall, on my hands and knees…I’ll beg if I have to. “So, is that a yes to sex?” I ask shyly, excitedly. Hell, I haven’t been this eager about sex in years. And the last time it was because I’d just ordered the Indulgences gift bag from Jimmy Jane…bullet vibrator and all. Best forty dollars ever spent.

            “That is a no to sex, for now. You did lose the coin toss, after all,” he jokes, his deep chuckle rippling into the small space.

            I lost? Hmm… Somehow, I feel like I won. “Oh, so you’re anticipating there will be sex in the future?” I ask, only half-serious. Okay, I’m lying again. I’m completely serious.

            “Yes, there will be, and lots of it. I have a feeling, once I get a full taste of you, I won’t get enough. You respond beautifully, and it’s driving me crazy. I want you. And a body like yours is begging to be fucked by someone like me.” He grins wickedly and I melt. How am I not a puddle of quivering want right now?

            I bat my eyelashes. “I’m an ‘in the moment’ kind of girl, you know? I may not be interested later.” I hedge my bets, hoping I’ll hit big.

            “Nope. No dice. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He turns and opens the door to a visibly angry Tick, standing and waiting.

            Tony grimaces before looking at me. “Go to your table. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

            I open my mouth to protest but his eyes plead with me not to argue. I let out a huff and walk past them both with an extra swish to my butt, letting him know what he is missing.

            Sitting at my booth, I see the two men in what looks like a heated conversation. I try to look away, feeling as though I’m invading his privacy, but I want to know more. I want to know everything about this man. Eventually, Tick storms off, leaving Tony standing by the door, rubbing his hands through his hair. His face looks like a storm cloud that threatens to turn into a tornado. Our eyes lock for a long moment. Should I go to him? Will he come to me?

            He answers the questions for me when he turns and disappears into the crowd.

            Damn! My heart drops, along with my libido. Disappointment seeps into me and I slump into my seat. Rheda appears, plopping herself down beside me.

            “Whoa. This place is incredible,” she says huskily, out of breath.

            “You’ve been dancing all evening, when did you find the time to notice?” I snap.

            She looks at me, amusement on her face. “Jealous, are we? Stop being a prude and find a dance partner.”

            I did find one, but he’s gone, I shout in my head. “Listen, I’m ready to go. Are you coming?”

            She sighs, eyeballing the dance floor. “Yeah, I guess I’m ready.” She shrugs.

            I shift in my seat and frown. I was a bitch to Rheda and now I’m making her cut her night short. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

            She shrugs again. “No worries. I’m kinda tired anyway, and I do have to stop by the office tomorrow.”

“On a Saturday? Something with Iggy’s business?”

“Oh no. I do have other clients, you know. Besides, it’s just for an hour or two and then I have to prepare for court on Monday. So, an early night is a good idea.”

We both stand up and walk to the exit. Looking up, I see Tony staring at me. His dark gaze feels like a promise... Pleasure, hot sex, and lots and lots of orgasms.

I just hope I can handle him keeping all those promises, I think as I follow Rheda out of the club and into the sultry summer night.