Page 14 of Enemies

Ash turns back to greet a friend, leaving me and Harrison at the bar.

“Unfortunately, this was a one-night-only performance.” I shift off the stool. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Not half as much as you did.” He blocks my path. “I saw the way you lose yourself up there. In my club, which you seem intent on despising.”

My body tingles, from his closeness and the intimacy of his words.

“It’s a persona. Not me.”

“You can’t hide how it makes you feel. You’ve had orgasms less satisfying than what you experienced tonight.”

Anyone in the crowd could tell I was having a good time. But the way this man watched me, the way he’s watching me now, feels as if he sees under my clothes.

Under my skin.

The thrumming in my stomach streaks lower, between my thighs.

Laughter goes up from across the room, but I can’t look away from Harrison King.

“You know nothing about my orgasms, and you never will.”

I’m hot, and I pull the hair over one shoulder to leave the other bare. He follows the movement, attention lingering on my exposed skin and heating it like a filthy kiss.

“You told Leni this afternoon that you hated me no matter how pretty I was or how big my cock is, which means you’ve considered both.”

My breath catches.

“That’s why you’re angry,” he continues. “You hate me, but the thought of me gets you off. I might be a villain, but in your dreams I still slink into your room at night and make you come.”

His voice strokes down my spine like a filthy whisper. That decadent accent he deploys like a weapon is obscene.

“The only thing I’ve thought about,” I say, nodding to his belt, “is how you must be compensating for something to be this much of an asshole.”

When my attention drags back up to his face, the expression scorches me alive.

A cheer goes up from behind us, and we turn to see Leni come in the door, lifting her hands. “You were great,” she informs me with a grin, offering a high five. “See you back here Monday?” She looks between Harrison and me. “Unless the boss eats you first.”

The man at my side growls, and Leni laughs.

I’m mystified by the dynamic, still remembering the way he shut her up without a word earlier.

When I reach for my phone, Harrison frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Toro for a ride.”

“He’s an old man who needs his sleep.” He jerks his head at one of the bartenders, who reaches for a house phone on the wall. “A car will be here in five minutes.”

He gestures toward the hallway, then follows me out.

The man is a ruthless billionaire. Incapable of compromise. Incapable of love.

Except he might be a villain to me, but he’s not to Leni. To Toro. To his brother.

I have a handful of friends now, but a network of people I go back with? People I trust and who trust me?

That sounds like make believe.

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