Opulent.
But it’s him that steals my breath.
Warmth brushes my skin. His presence is electric, pressing against my back.
“You like it?” His voice is deep, smooth as aged whiskey.
I exhale shakily. “It’s beautiful.”
There’s a pause, a shift in the air. His breath ghosts against my neck, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
I freeze.
Slowly, I turn.
My eyes climb his body—long, powerful legs wrapped in a midnight black three-piece suit. Broad shoulders. A chest that fills his tailored jacket with ease.
My gaze drifts higher. A neatly trimmed beard. Tanned skin.
Then—his eyes.
Oh, fuck.
Swirling ocean blue with a hint of turquoise, sharp and searing as they lock onto mine.
My heart stops.
His lips part. A breath escapes.
And then, he says my name.
“Brooklyn.”
Dean
Sitting in the entertainment room, I wait.
Tom said she came recommended by Kate, and Kate knows how specific I am. I don’t waste my time on mediocrity. If Kate sent this girl, she must need help. And I’m all for helping—when it benefits me.
I expect another generic dancer, another girl who thinks the right smile and enough skin will get her through the door. I expect to be unimpressed.
Then she walks in.
And fuck me.
I see her legs first. Long, toned, sinful. The tight leather dress clings to her, riding higher with every hesitant step.
She moves as if she doesn’t belong here.
That catches my attention.
Women who walk into my club always know exactly what they’re doing. But this one? She’s unsure, her shoulders slightly tense, her head held high as if she’s forcing herself to be here.
Interesting.
Then she stumbles.
