Cassie McEntire has a gold medal-worthy ass: tight and defined, with the curve of a half moon. No matter what she wears, it’s there, pressing against her jeans or shorts or skirt, just waiting, tempting someone to grab it or bite it or press his fingers into her flesh, each cheek a perfect handful.
Which this fucking superhero movie stand-in, with his hand only inches above her ass, seems determined to experience for himself.
I’m barely aware of the two grown men behind me trying to pummel each other into oblivion in the ring. We’ve made a lot of money tonight, but immediately after Tyler gives me a numbers update, the information dissolves, moves out of the way so my brain can focus on more urgent matters, like what color panties are covering Cassie’s world-class ass, and what they’d look like in a ball on my bedroom floor.
This week in my office, I hadn’t meant to be a prick. I hadn’t meant to be anything other than naked and sweaty and loud with her. I said a dumb thing, then I said that I was sorry, which I thought was the right thing, but from the way she’s dressed tonight, the way she’s holding onto that boy band reject, she’s clearly going to make me work a little harder to get back to tasting her skin, feeling her hips pressed against me.
From the bar she glances at me, teasing me, and I fucking love it. It’s sexy as hell, a woman who knows how badly I want her making sure I know how badly everyone else wants her, too. But this little game of wills can’t go on all night. One of us has to concede. Give up. Submit to the other one’s dominance.
And like I say, I always win.
Boy Band is consumed with waving down the bartender as I walk toward the bar, and he doesn’t notice me. That’s his first mistake. His hand is still on Cassie, having migrated to the small of her back. I stand on the other side of her. Her head is turned away from me, but she cuts her eyes in my direction, and seeing me brings a trace of a smile to her pretty, plump lips. I push her hair away from her ear and whisper, “It’s time to go, tiger.”
She tilts her head toward me. “Says who?”
“Your boss,” I say.
“I’m not your employee tonight.”
“But you’re still mine,” I say. I let my hand drop down her side. “Every part of you.” Slowly, my fingertips slide beneath the front hem of her dress, trailing up her inner thigh. Very still, she grips the bar and narrows her eyes, spreading her legs slightly to give me access to her *, wet and warm and slick.
“Hey, man, can I help you?” Boy Band says. He eyes me up and down, and I can tell he doesn’t know who I am, has no clue that with one gesture I could have him hauled out of here by three guys whose hands are the size of his head. Second mistake. But I’m willing to let it slide.
A few years ago I might have challenged this guy to get in the ring, or even just decked him right here. But I’m a thirty-year-old businessman now, not just some brash kid who’s too strong and quick for his own good. And besides, he’s caught me in an up moment. A sweet spot, so to speak.
“It’s cool, dude,” I say, releasing Cassie from my fingers. I take her by the hand. “We were just leaving.”
“Do you know this guy?” he says to Cassie.
She nods. “I work for him.”
“Although right now,” I say, leading Cassie from the bar, “I’m gonna go work under her.”
Boy Band takes her forearm, like we’re in a tug o’war. “She’s with me, bro,” he says. Mistake number three, and this one’s a fatal error in judgment on his part.
Removing his hand from her arm, I step in front of Cassie, right into Boy Band’s baby face. “I don’t think so, bro,” I say. “See her shoes?” Boy Band glances behind me at Cassie’s tall pumps. “Red doesn’t really go with blond hair.” I clap him on the shoulder. “So I’m pretty lucky,” I say, pointing to my dark hair. “Because those high heels are gonna look perfect wrapped around my head tonight.”
A little intimidation goes a long way when you look like me. I smile and the guy backs up a step.
Cassie raises her eyebrows at me, then gives a little wave to Boy Band as I guide her to the exit, my hand on the small of her back, so temptingly near her impeccable, peach-shaped ass that I’m this close to taking her into a dark corner right here in the warehouse, cupping a cheek in each palm and burying my head between her legs, kissing and licking and tasting, her sweetness lingering on my lips as I twist my tongue in and out of her perfect *.