I get a smile for that. A smile that grows more sensual when the zipper of her dress, guided by my hand, reaches the top. She spins, head tilted to scan my outfit.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” She looks up at me, not craning her neck as far back now she’s wearing heels. “It’s growing on me.”
“What is?”
“That nickname. I know you chose it because you think I’m cold, but...” She pushes away from the vanity, her fingers tiptoeing up my chest, eyes following the movement. “I assure you, there’s a time and place forhot.”
With a cheeky wink, she ducks under my arm, sauntering out of the bathroom, her hips swaying seductively.
My resolve not to have her even once is faltering fast. If she weren’t Hailey’s sister, if a one-night stand couldn’t backfire in my face, I wouldn’t hold back.
Too bad that it would backfire. We live under the same roof, whichever city we’re in, apparently. One night would get complicated and I don’t want this cold bitch more than once.
I adjust my cock in my pants before I follow her into the living room, where she fiddles with her purse.
“Where’s your jacket?” I ask.
“We’re not walking, are we? It’ll be warm inside the car and in the club.”
“But it’s not warm outside.”
“I’m not five, Ryder. If I thought I’d be cold, I’d grab a jacket.”
A knock reverberates through the apartment, cutting the conversation short.
I grind my teeth, following Bianca into the car and ignoring the way my stomach clenches when a chilly gust of air raises the fine hairs on the back of her slender neck. The same neck I’d love to wring because she’s so fucking stubborn.
The ride, like all our rides, is tense, the closed, tight space of the car trapping me in a bubble of Bianca’s scent. It’s maddening. Keeping my cock at half-mast. At least she’s tucked in the back seat where I can’t see her long legs, tiny dress, or gorgeous, delicate face that doesn’t match her personality one bit.
Arthur takes his Merc round the back ofScarlett,and once inside we head straight for the VIP bar.
“What are you drinking?” I ask Bianca, resting one elbow on the bar, eyes on her face as if my sanity depends on it.
It does. The way her dress hugs her breasts, the way their swell taunts me as if demanding caresses, slowly but surely drives me closer toward insanity. Either I keep my eyes on hers or risk peeking at her boobs and burying my face in them.
“Lemonade, please.” She shifts her weight from one leg to the other, jutting out her hip.
“No wine tonight?”
“I’m not a big drinker. In fact, I hadn’t touched alcohol for five years before last weekend.”
“Lemonade it is,” I tell the bartender. “And two whiskeys on the rocks.”
He bobs his head, scurrying away to prepare the drinks. Bianca scans the club with awe on her pretty face. Strobe lights dance across her skin, highlighting the figure-fitting velvethugging her curves. It’s as if the universe is against me. As if everything is highlighting how gorgeous she is and saying I’m an idiot for missing out by refusing to touch her.
“There you are,” Hailey’s voice sounds behind me. “You look amazing, Bianca.”
Jealousy and relief start a war inside my head. Relief because Bianca will leave my personal space, taking her scarcely dressed body and brain-melting scent with her.
Jealousy for the same reason. I want her in my space, even though I don’t want her in my fucking space.
“Hey, Hailey,” Bianca chirps. “And thanks. I wasn’t sure if this dress was appropriate.”
It isn’t. I’ve pondered wrapping her in my jacket a thousand times since we stepped out of my apartment and Arthur’s eyes widened at the sight of her. If that means I’m a toxic, walking red flag, thenoh well, I’m fresh out of fucks to give. Her dress is too short, too revealing, too head-turning, too tight-fitting. Every guy here will salivate over her all evening.
My temper might not survive this.
I straighten my spine when another unpleasant thought batters my mind. I glance over my shoulder to our usual booth, zeroing in on Koby.
