Entwined with You (Crossfire 03)

“How far would you go to keep her safe?” I asked him.

We slowed at a light and he turned his head to look at me. “How far wouldn’t I go?”





9


“WHAT WAS WRONG with that one?” Megumi asked, watching the guy in question walk away. “He had dimples.”

I rolled my eyes and polished off my vodka and cranberry. Primal, the fourth stop on our club-hopping list, was pumping. The line to get in wrapped around the block and the guitar-heavy tracks suited the club’s name, the music pounding through the darkened space with a primitive, seductive beat. The décor was an eclectic mix of brushed metals and dark woods, with the multihued lighting creating animal-print silhouettes.

It should’ve been too much, but like everything Gideon, it skirted the edge of decadent excess without falling over it. The atmosphere was one of hedonistic abandon and it did crazy things to my alcohol-fueled libido. I couldn’t sit still, my feet tapping restlessly on the rungs of my chair.

Megumi’s roommate, Lacey, groaned at the ceiling, her dark blond hair arranged in a disheveled updo I admired. “Why don’t you flirt with him?”

“I might,” Megumi said, looking flushed, bright-eyed, and very hot in a slinky gold halter dress. “Maybe he’ll commit.”

“What do you want out of commitment?” Shawna asked, nursing a drink as fiery red as her hair. “Monogamy?”

“Monogamy is overrated.” Lacey slid off her bar stool at our tallboy table and wriggled her butt, the rhinestones on her jeans glittering in the semidarkness of the club.

“No, it’s not.” Megumi pouted. “I happen to like monogamy.”

“Is Michael sleeping with other women?” I asked, leaning forward so I didn’t have to shout.

I had to lean back right away to make room for the waitress, who brought another round and cleared the previous one away. The club’s uniform of black stiletto boots and hot pink strapless minidresses stood out in the crowd, making it easy to know who to flag. It was also really sexy—as was the staff wearing them. Had Gideon had any hand in picking the outfit? And if so, had anyone modeled it for him?

“I don’t know.” Megumi picked up her new drink and sucked at her straw with a sad face. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Grabbing one of the four shot glasses in the center of the table and a lime wedge, I shouted, “Let’s do shots and dance!”

“Fuck yeah!” Shawna tossed back her shot of Patrón without waiting for the rest of us, then shoved a lime in her mouth. Dropping the juiceless wedge into her empty glass, she shot us all a look. “Hurry up, laggers.”

I went next, shuddering as the tequila washed away the tang of cranberry. Lacey and Megumi went together, toasting each other with a loud “Kanpai!” before downing theirs.

We hit the dance floor en masse, Shawna leading the way in her electric blue dress that was damn near as bright under the black lights as the club uniform. We were swallowed into the mass of writhing dancers, quickly finding ourselves pressed between steamy male bodies.

I let go, giving myself over to the grinding beat of the music and the sultry atmosphere of the rocking club. Lifting my hands in the air, I swayed, releasing the lingering tension from the long, pointless afternoon with my mother. At some point, I’d lost my trust in her. As much as she promised that things would be different without Nathan, I found I couldn’t believe her. She’d crossed the line too many times.

“You’re beautiful,” someone yelled by my ear.

I looked over my shoulder at the dark-haired guy curved against my back. “Thanks!”

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