Page 44 of Match Penalty

She hesitates, then relaxes slightly against me. "Thanks. I didn’t think I was ever going to get through."

The bartender turns to us with a look that says he hates Ladies’ Night. “What can I get for you?”

“Whatever she wants,” I tell him.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

The guys can wait. I look over my shoulder, to find that everyone is preoccupied. No one is waiting on a beer.

“None of us are in a hurry. Ladies first.”

A small smile pulls at her lips before she turns back to the bartender and bends forward to order, getting closer so the bartender can hear her.

Her ass presses against my crotch in our tight proximity.

I muffle out a groan at the feel of her ass pushing against me.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay?” she asks after she makes her order, seeing me grimace. She has no idea what she just did, and I won’t tell her.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Did you get your order in?” I ask. Since I was preoccupied trying not to get hard and have Cammy running for the hills, I missed every word she told the bartender when she ordered.

I feel the heat of her through the thin material of her dress, the smell of her light floral perfume and sweat from her dancing. It would be so easy to pull her closer. To wrap my arms around her and lay a kiss on her bare shoulder, then imprint my lips on every inch of her beautiful neck. But I’m still on thin ice with her, and doing something like that will only push her further away.

"Thanks," she says when her drinks arrive.

He gives her the price, and I slap my card down before she can reach wherever she’s keeping money in that tiny dress. If we were somewhere alone, I’d be happy to find out exactly where she puts it, myself.

“JP,” she says, turning to argue, but the bartender takes the card and is already gone. “You don’t have to do that. We can buy our own drinks.”

The sound of her finally saying my nickname hits me—JP.

Off her lips, it sounds like an angel. My angel.

“You just called me JP.”

She stalls for a second, her eyes searching mine. “I guess we’re not at the office, so… I don’t know, maybe it just slipped out.”

“I like it when you call me that. It’s worth every penny of the highway robbery prices here,” I tell her with a grin.

She smiles back. “We can pay you back. None of the girls are going to expect you to pay for these.”

I shake my head. “I’ve got it—I promise.”

“Thank you… again.”

"Anytime," I manage, fighting the urge to lean down and taste the words on her lips.

The bartender returns, and Cammy turns back.

She slips away before I can do something stupid, disappearing back into the crowd with her friends. I order a round of beers, but I know the bartender is going to make me wait longer this time, since I gave up my place in line.

It doesn’t matter, as long as I can see her from where I’m standing.

Another ten minutes later, I get the beers and head back to the table, when I notice immediately that something has changed. She is over at her table, and all of the girls are standing with her. Her smile fades, and she presses a hand to her stomach. I'm moving before I can think better of it.

"Cammy?" I reach out for her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she insists, laying her hand on my arm like she needs me for stability. Her face suddenly pales, the carefree glow from earlier is gone, replaced by a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. She stumbles slightly, and my instincts kick in before she can hit the ground. "I just need some air."

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