On the edge of the dance floor, clad in a scandalously short red dress, was a tall brunette girl. She had her arms loosely draped around the neck of a guy who was skating his hands up and down her sides, tugging her closer so they could grind together. The guy was dressed in dark skinny jeans, a white button-down, and a black tie.
Skinny jeans.
And a fucking tie.
At a club.
Mitch instantly saw red.
“Isn’t that Lexie?” Cole asked, knowing full well it was.
Mitch sucked in a deep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly, begging his heart rate to settle before he did something stupid, like walk up to them, toss Lexie over his shoulder, and carry her out of here.
He didn’t know Lexie all that well yet, but he knew without a doubt that that sort of behavior would not be well-received.
“It sure is,” Mitch said.
“You should go talk to her. That guy looks like a dweeb.”
Cole was unaware that Mitch was already intimately acquainted with Lexie. None of his teammates knew, mostly because it wasn’t worth mentioning at the moment and because he was too embarrassed to admit to anyone how she’d acted toward him.
Brazenly, she had used him to get herself off and walked out the door without thinking twice. Her behavior was equal parts aggravating and intriguing.
And looking at her now, across this crowded bar with some other guy’s hands running all over her body, all over places where his own should be, had Mitch setting down his drink on the bar beside Cole and striding toward her before he could give it a second thought.
Over the shoulder of the guy she was dancing with, Lexie caught his gaze, and her eyes widened. He didn’t miss the way her lips formed his name, and a jolt of satisfaction shot through him.
“What?” The guy she was dancing with yelled at her.
“She was talking to me, dude,” Mitch said when he reached them. He looked down his nose at the guy. “Get lost.”
“Holy shit, you’re Mitch Frambough.”
Mitch’s eyes never left Lexie’s as he said, “I know. Now beat it.”
“Possessive asshole isn’t a good look on you,” Lexie said once the guy had disappeared into the crowd.
“And you ignoring me isn’t a good look on you, so I guess we’re even.”
Lexie snorted. “Not even close.”
She spun away from him and snaked through the crowd, Mitch’s large body making it easy to follow.
When they reached a quieter corner, Mitch reached out and snagged Lexie’s wrist. “Why are you always running away from me?”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “I’m not running from you. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that anything that happens between us is just sex. It’s purely physical. So you don’t get to dictate what or who I do with my time.”
“Didn’t you have a good time with me that night?” Mitch asked, wincing at how whiny his voice sounded. Who the hell was he turning into? He had never chased a woman in his life, nor had he ever been so used and tossed aside by one. Now he was the one pining, all in his feelings about the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him outside of using his body.
If it was his body she wanted, he would gladly oblige.
It was time to give Lexie a little taste of her own medicine. If she wanted to play games, she was messing with the wrong dude.
Without a word, he gripped her wrist tighter and pulled her down the long hallway at the back of the club, searching for a secluded spot. They came upon an empty supply closet, and Mitch shoved Lexie inside.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Mitch unbuckled his belt and lowered the fly of his jeans. His dick was already rock hard, had been since the moment he first laid eyes on her tonight. “What do I look like I’m doing? If all you want from me is sex, then here you go.”
