Page 32 of Claiming Atlas

“So you do know me.” That cocky smirk should make me want to slap him. Instead, it makes me want to straddle his face until those full lips and that most likely talented tongue drive me to the brink of no return. He licks his lips as though he reads my mind, and I suck in a breath that makes him smirk even more.

I am failing miserably at saying no to Atlas Reynolds.

I roll my eyes and wave off the assumption with a flick of my wrist. “Both of those guys you sent tosummonme told me who you were.”

His eyes narrow. “You think I summoned you?”

I scoff. “Didn’t you?”

He smirks. “I invited a pretty girl to sit at my table.”

His goddamn thumb is moving back and forth over the skin just above the waist of my jeans. Christ, I don’t know how much longer I can say no to this man.

I laugh and shake my head, then move to pass him. “Looks like you have plenty of those.”

“Plenty of what?” He tightens his grip on my waist, and slides his other hand up around my wrist. The way he holds me here and keeps me from leaving should offend me. But I want his hands all over me. From the stutter of my pulse and the catch in my breath, to the goosebumps on my skin and the wetness between my legs, my body wants nothing more than to let Atlas have his way with me.

“Plenty of pretty girls.”

The smile falls from his lips. “Yet I only want one.”

My pulse speeds.

He would discard me like the leftover two a.m. room service trays that line hotel room hallways every morning.

His dark eyes hold mine, and something tightens low in my belly. His gaze drops to my lips and I lick them in response. My body is on autopilot, commanded only by the touch of this stranger. My body is no longer mine.

My body is his.

Atlas smirks. He sees it too. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me with each touch, each lick of his lips...

The blonde from the bathroom approaches us, snapping me back to reality. He already has a body to command tonight, and it sure as shit isn’t mine. I suck in a breath and smile. “Here’s one of your pretty girls now.” I shrug out of his grasp, smile at her as I pass, then head back to the table on wobbly legs. I’m about to eat shit in these five inch heels, and I just pray that Atlas is too distracted by blondie to see me go flying.

No one registers my presence when I return to the table, and I’m half tempted to ghost my friends, but that would be a jerk move since we’re technically supposed to be celebrating my retirement. “Hey, guys, can we hit up the next club?” My voice is shaky as hell. Can they hear it?

Scarlet is the first to rise. She studies my face, her eyebrows bunched together, then turns back to Brandon to say something before she steps out of the roped off area. “We’ll meet up with y’all on the bus.” She links arms with me, then starts leading me toward the door. “Okay, girl, spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” I glance back over my shoulder.

He’s watching me with a smirk that says he’s quite aware of the fact that I’m freakingsoakedright now and it’s all for him.

Scarlet looks back too, then squeezes my arm. “Um, hello? Hi. Tell me why your favorite musician is standing back there undressing you with his eyes, and you’re walking out the door with me instead of him.”

I laugh, and wave my hand like it’s nothing, but my best friend isn’t one to drop things.

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