Luka makes a half turn to pass me the wine glass that seems to have materialized in his hand. “There’s a good crowd here tonight—I’m sure Stefan’s floored that so many people showed up to support Danica Rose. I honestly wasn’t sure what the turn out would be like.”
It’s an innocent comment, another thread of small talk that I don’t want to engage in. The hot, jealous anger inside me keeps growing. I feel suffocated. A dismissive, sarcastic sound makes its way out of me as I take a sip of the moscato.
“Are you sure this is a party to celebrate the agency, and not just a reunion for all the women in your little black book?” I say.
“What?” Luka’s eyebrows shoot up and he makes a cursory glance around. “I didn’t sleep witheveryonehere.” His tone says otherwise.
He takes a quick drink of water and I slide my hand out of the crook of his arm and gulp from my wine glass, ignoring the judgmental gazes all around me. I point at the redhead.
“That one over there? It’s obvious you slept with her. Everyone in the room knows it.” It’s like I can’t stop. I can’t hold my tongue and I can’t tamp down the bite in my voice. I nod to the belly-dancing blonde in the corner. “And what about her?”
He shrugs and thinks a moment, then looks away. I’ve never seen Luka truly uncomfortable, but he is right now. I’m doing this to him…but I can’t seem to reel myself in.
“Right.” I look pointedly at a brunette. “Her too?”
His eyes darken and narrow as he searches my face. I single out another woman and nod my head. “What about that one? She hasn’t stopped looking at your dick since we walked in.”
“You need to stop,” Luka says, his voice low. “Let’s just have a nice night out together.”
I’d like to do that—but the thing is, he hasn’t denied a single accusation, which only flames my white-hot jealousy.
“It’s too late for that,” I hiss, glaring up at him.
“Come here.” Luka slips his fingers over my bicep and pulls me closer to him, dipping his head as if we’re having a pleasant conversation. The tension rolling off him says otherwise. I’ve pushed him too far. This isn’t like me at all, yet I can’t find the sense to feel guilty about all the accusations I’ve made.
And now I’m going to pay for it.
“You want me to tell you about every woman in this room that I’ve fucked, Brooklyn? Huh? Does your dirty little mind want to hear every scandalous detail?”
I shake my head, but it’s too late. His handsome face has gone dead serious, clouded by a dark expression I’ve never seen before. It scares and arouses me all at the same time.
“Don’t—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“The blonde swinging her hips like that? You should see the way she moves when I have my finger in her ass. And that’s nothing compared to what she’s capable of when I’m pounding on her G-spot. It’s sexy as fuck.”
My mouth drops open, my stomach clenching and my cheeks going hot.
“That brunette over there, with the legs for days?” he goes on. “Her knees were wrapped around my head so tight I thought she’d break my neck. ‘Xena,’ I called her.”
He pounds back another drink of water as if it’s hard liquor and gives a nod of greeting to a dark-skinned woman decked out in fire-engine red as she saunters by. “That one used to be a gymnast.Soincredibly flexible. Good thing, because the broom closet I fucked her in wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun if she hadn’t been able to fold up the way she did.”
“Stop it,” I whisper, a sick feeling roiling in my gut.
A slow, wicked grin crosses his face as he watches yet another woman with raven-black hair go by. “And her. She screamed so loud, we got kicked out of the Hilton. Twice.”
I’m pulling breath in through my nose, my chest heaving to the point that I can’t control it. I’m seconds away from throwing my wine in his face. These feelings inside me are shocking and I don’t know what to do with them. This isn’t me. I’ve never been the jealous type. Hell, this isn’t even a real relationship. But Luka is driving me to the brink.
I feel possessive, jilted and enraged and so damn aroused, with no outlet for it. I want to pull his hair, scratch at him. Shove him and then pull him closer. I want him to tangle with me until we’re sweaty and naked and my thighs are squeezing the hell out of his hot, smug face.
I set down my glass on a table, intending to head to the ladies’ room where I can hide in a stall and collect myself. But I can’t hold back one last jab before I go.
“Funny how you recall every tiny little detail of your whoring with these women, yet you don’t have a single memory of fucking your own fiancée.”
His face goes cold. I start to storm away from him, but his strong hands grip my hips and pull me back.
Luka spins me, his eyes blazing as he crushes my body up against his. “You tasted like blackberries and sin, and I’m not talking about your mouth. Which, I have to tell you, is my second favorite taste ever. And how could I forget the look on your face when you came, the feel of your soaking wet pussy rutting against my tongue while I devour you—it’s all etched in my memory so completely, it’s the first thing I see every night when I close my eyes.”
He’s pulled me away from the bar and into a corner. We’re still in the way of heavy traffic but I barely notice anyone else. I can’t believe it. All this time he’s known, and he’s said nothing. The anger inside starts to cool. I’m simply stunned.
