Jenna bit down on her lip to prevent herself from groaning.
An instant later, she glanced at Malik to find him watching her under hooded lids.
Their gazes met and held—and suddenly it felt overly hot in their booth.
Jenna was conscious of her breathing, the slow ‘thud’ of her pulse in her ears, and that throbbing ache in the cradle of her hips that intensified with each passing second.
What was in that drink?
Deep down, Jenna knew she should be concerned, and yet another part of her longed to call the server over and order two more Horn Punches. She was starting to feel as if she could take on the galaxy and win.
Reaching out, she placed a hand over her bodyguard’s, trailing the pads of her fingertips up his long, tapering fingers, across the back of his hand, to his wrist.
“I imagine you’re a good lover, Malik,” she murmured.
He gave her a slow, sensual smile. In the dim lighting inside the booth, his eyes were a deep shade of purple, like the evening sky just before the stars came out. “I haven’t had any complaints.”
Jenna’s breathing caught. His arrogance thrilled her.
He reached up with his free hand then and glided his thumb along her jaw. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” His voice roughened. “I’ve fantasized about having you for years.”
“You have?” Jenna was aware her voice had gone high and breathy.
The pulsing ache had spread to between her thighs. She was close to climbing this man like he was her ladder to oblivion.
“You remember that dress you wore for the clan anniversary last year … the black and gold one?” he continued, leaning closer. His breath feathered her ear, and Jenna shivered, hot and cold bathing her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered back.
“I went to bed that night imagining tearing it off you … I lay there thinking about taking you up against the wall, fucking you slowly until you screamed my name.”
Jenna swallowed hard. She was sweating now. Their surroundings—the coarse laughter of patrons, the giggle of the females working here, and the rhythmic thud of deliberately sensual music—all faded.
All Jenna could think about was that if Malik kept talking, she was going to straddle him here and now.
As if reading her mind, her bodyguard leaned in closer still. He drew back the edge of her hood, his lips grazing the shell of her ear before trailing down her jaw. “I want you, Jenna … tonight.”
“Can I get you two anything else?” An amused female voice interrupted them.
Drawing back from Malik, Jenna slowly turned her head and focused on the server from earlier. The woman was smirking as she watched them. “We have private rooms out back … ten credits for an hour.”
“No, thanks,” Malik replied, a rasp to his voice now as his fingers entwined through Jenna’s and squeezed. “We’re leaving.”
16. WILD
THE WOMAN WATCHED the couple depart the pleasure house.
Keisha scowled. After downing those Horn Punches so fast, she was sure they’d take her up on her offer of a room hire.
“Cheap bastards,” she muttered under her breath, returning behind the bar.
Irritated, she stabbed at her tablet on the countertop, bringing up the Shadownet. It was a slow night, and boredom was setting in. Maybe there would be something on there that would distract her from her worries.
Keisha had ownedTheHook and Hornfor a few years now, but with the opening of three new pleasure houses locally, business had been tough. Maybe she needed to find some new dancers—some prettier human females like the brunette who’d just departed on the arm of her handsome companion.
Yes, Keisha had noticed the looks the woman had received from many of the patrons when she’d crossed the floor earlier.
Even cloaked and hooded, she had an unconscious sensuality men noticed.
