Page 3 of Royally Ruined

But this man—no, this wolfish creature—he was something else. There was no fear in his eyes when I challenged him, only confidence and wild, unadulterated lust.

The last bit was my fault. Definitely.

Stupid,I scolded myself, even as I ground my ass against the front of his jeans.Really stupid.My goal had been to throw him off so I could bolt for the door. I’d already tried shouting at him, and it hadn’t worked; anyone else would have backed off.

Costello Badd wasn’t likeanyoneI’d ever met.

“Wait,” I managed to croak. Gathering myself, I tugged against his grip on my wrists. It didn’t budge, his long fingers easily holding both my arms over my head. The locker I was crushed against should have felt chilly. With how hot my body was, it didn’t.

He yanked my skirt down again, further exposing my black underwear. Had the dressing room always had a draft? Goose bumps rippled over my skin; some were from Costello’s breath on my neck.

A small noise rumbled in his chest. I felt it more than heard it. Aware of how close we were, I tried to push my knees together; Costello kicked at my heels, driving his leg between mine. “No,” he said sharply. His pause went on too long; it made me bite my lip. “Stay. I’ll make this quick.”

I didn’t know anymore if I wanted him to be quick about it.

His fingertips ran down my legs, front to back, as he searched for a wire that wasn’t there. As if I’d ever be so insane as to squeal on the Badds. But he hadn’t listened to me.

If he had, I wouldn’t be feeling his skin-melting touch right now,I told myself. Costello was working me up like it had been his plan all along. The rigid bulge pushing into my lower back wasn’t his gun. It couldn’t be.

“Are you almost done in here?”

It was Hawthorne’s voice that echoed through the room. He stood in the doorway, his arm propped up on the frame as he squinted at us. I knew what he saw: me half-naked, skirt pulled down and shirt tugged high, while his brother was cupping my hips.

Costello flew backward like my body had become literal fire. Had he realized how inappropriate he was being? I should have been relieved that I was free of his determined, expert touch ... but I wasn’t.

The absence of his heat was too obvious. It left me feeling more exposed than having my skirt around my ankles had.I need a drink after this.Too bad I didn’t drink on the job. It would have made life much easier.

Thorne looked between us with his eyebrows raised. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Yanking my skirt up quickly, I fixed my clothes while stomping toward him. He had the grace to wince. “Did you really think I would wear awirein here?” I snapped. “After all these years?”

Thorne threw up his hands in self-defense. His smirk slid on too smoothly, like a favorite pair of jeans. “Costello was just being safe. Take it easy.”

“Oh, tell me to take it easy again,” I said, poking him in the shoulder. “Let me hear you say that whileyou’regetting defiled.”

He blinked at me, then at Costello. “Did you defile her?”

The blue-eyed brother didn’t look at either of us. “No.” Then he shoved through the door, leaving me and Thorne alone. If I hadn’t just spent several minutes with him whispering in my ear, I might not have known Costello had been in the room at all. The man was a ghost when he wanted to be.

“Huh,” Thorne said, rubbing at the side of his neck. “He’s acting weird. Don’t you think so?”

“I wouldn’t know. That’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me.”Spoken and so much more.The man’s abrupt exit had taken the wind out of my sails. Crossing my arms, I asked, “What are you two so scared about the police overhearing?”

Thorne’s smile fell away at my question. “I told you, we’re just being safe. Doesn’t have to mean there’s anything going on tonight.”

“Tonight? As opposed to at all?”

“I mean—fuck, give me a break here. Just treat this like any other shift, okay?”

I tightened my arms. “That’s not reassuring.”

Thorne folded his hands behind his neck with a loud sigh. “Are you mad because it was Costello ‘defiling’ you and not me?” I shoved him as I walked by; he laughed, following me into the club. “Scotch, all you have to do is ask me nicely next time! I’ll happily do anything to you, don’t be shy!”

His acting like a jackass was typical, and it made things feel more normal. After my encounter with Costello ... normality was a state I desperately wanted to return to.

The Dirty Dolls was in full swing. Which is to say, less of a swing, more of a limp. Monday nights bring in a quiet kind of crowd, the “One more drink before I go home” after-work types.

A lone dancer stretched on the tip rail while a customer fed ones into her thong.Where are the other girls?I wondered.There should be at least six more, including Gina. Are they all giving lap dances or something?I spotted them in the darkened room; what I saw cut my stride in half.

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