“You have no idea,” I reply, sipping my drink with a smirk.
“Must be fun, chaperoning his dates.” He nods at the cozying pair. “No surprise he’s after Willow though. Considering his thing for her mom and all.”
My eyes widen slightly at that tidbit. Ugh, I wouldn’t put a twisted threesome past Connor and his insatiable libido.
“They sure look close,” I say breezily, steering my gaze away from infuriatingly photogenic couple. “And Willow’s stunning.”
“Like yourself,” Mason returns, dragging his gaze down my body appreciatively. He is so full of shit, I’m nowhere near Willow’s league. “I like your dress. Bold choice.”
My smile stays delighted at the attention from this hot guy, but inside, I’m on alert. Did he catch the nipslip show earlier? This dress is still sweltering, so I may have unzipped a tad bit more . . .
Right as I’m about to dazzle Mason with some witty repartee, I’m aware of a presence looming behind me. A scent that’s all kinds of sexy wafts over, derailing my train of thought.
In other words, it’s Connor.
“Mason,” his rough voice cuts in. We swivel around to find him standing at the bar. His smile is tight, not quite reaching his eyes as he sizes Mason up.
Kayla shields her drink protectively. No way she’s letting him swipe this one.
His steely gaze then lands on me. “Remember why you’re here, Lexi,” he says, his tone dripping with condescension.
My temper flares. “Actually, there’s nothing needing my attention right now. I might as well leave.”
“You’ll leave when I give the word.”
My stomach swoops traitorously as I gape at him. Who the hell does he think he is?
Mason’s warm chuckle cuts through the crackling tension. “No worries, I’ll let Lexi be. Got someone else to catch up with anyway.” He takes my hand, kissing it gently as Connor looks on, his annoyance barely contained.
I can’t believe Connor’s cock-blocking me. The nerve. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was jealousy instead of him just trying to ruin my happiness because he hates me.
Red-hot rage blazes through me, and any scrap of professionalism flies out the bar. “Do you get your rocks off on these power trips?”
“Try to restrain yourself,” Connor growls. He seems to think my question was rhetorical. “I know Mason’s got a Beamer, but no need to throw yourself at him.”
“Oh fuck off,” I snap, my fists clenching involuntarily. “If I sleep with Mr. Hotshot Producer, it’ll be for that glorious body and mind-blowing sex. Not his car!”
Beside me, Kayla sits very still, not breathing. Bracing for the impending explosion.
I watch with bated breath as he ever-so-slowly palms the polished wood on either side of me, effectively caging me in. He takes full advantage of those extra inches, looming over me intimidatingly. When he speaks, his voice is lethal. “Is that what you need then? To be fucked senseless? If you wanted my undivided attention tonight, there were easier ways than wearing that dress.”
“As if,” I huff, but my body betrays me as a coil of forbidden heat uncurls. I clench my thighs against the throb there, pulse kicking. Oh god, I do just need to be fucked. Otherwise, I might never find my senses again.
“Maybe I should give Mason a heads-up about you,” he murmurs in my ear, making sure Kayla can’t hear. “He’s quite attached to that fancy car of his.”
My jaw drops in indignation, a fire burning inside me at his arrogance. He’ll only ever see me as gutter trash, someone beneath his standing. He thinks he can treat me like garbage and I’ll just smile and take it. And the messed-up part is, I kind of have to. Because he pays the bills and I need the money. A nasty power play.
I force my lips into a bright, artificial smile, like the good little actress I am. “Don’t you worry about my love life, Connor. Just concentrate on your own. Enjoying your little performance tonight?” My tone drips syrupy sarcasm. “It’s nice to see you on your best behavior for the cameras for once.”
He cocks one arrogant eyebrow. “Me? As I recall, you were the one putting on quite the performance earlier.”
His gaze pointedly coasts down my body, lingering briefly before meeting my eyes again. I flush, squirming at the memory of his hands on my bare skin, securing me in his belt.
“That was a wardrobe malfunction,” I snap. “Drop it.”
“If you say so.” Amusement glints in his eyes. “I hope you’re getting my best side in all those paparazzi shots, Lexi.”
“The view of your back as you leave, right?” I shoot back. “Got it covered. Seems you and Willow are having a right cozy time.”
