Page 20 of Bagging the Blueliner
Ending world hunger would be an easier task.
Skirting around the sweaty mass of bodies, I worked my way to the VIP section entrance and up the stairs. Needing to keep my wits about me, I declined the offer of alcohol from the waitress making her rounds, ordering a bottle of water instead.
Standing with both hands braced against the railing of the balcony overlooking the dance floor, I searched for signs of Hannah.
Letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, I scanned the brunettes in the crowd.
There.
My grip on the railing grew so tight I feared putting a dent in the metal. Hannah was in the center of it all—I don’t know why I expected anything less—plastered against a man I knew all too well. Maddox Sterling was the captain of the Indy Speed, and we’d played in college together. He was a decent guy but wasn’t good enough for Hannah.
Oh, and you are?
I remained laser-focused on Hannah’s movements—noting the way she moved her hips, how her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. Without warning, she turned around, and I caught sight of her face.
Club Hannah was sexy as fuck. Always had been.
My body betrayed me as I watched her with another man, blood rushing south, my dick tenting my pants. She drove me wild, and I pictured her pressed against my body instead. I could almost feel her soft ass grinding against my cock in that skintight dress.
Arousal turned to anger as I watched her loop her arms around his neck and twist for a kiss, which Maddox gave willingly. I wanted to tear him apart for touching her, tasting her in a way I knew I never would.
Acting as if no one else was in the room, one of his hands gripped her full breast while the other dropped to tease the skin of her thigh. Hannah placed her hand over his and brought it between her legs.
Suddenly, I was moving.
Blinded by rage, barely aware of anything else, I didn’t stop until I reached the pair. Both sets of eyes were closed—lost to lust while engaging in a very private act in a public place—but popped open when I growled, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
Hannah stared wide-eyed as Maddox tried to place me in the darkness. Recognition dawned, and he tightened his grip on Hannah. “Back off, Berg. I got here first.”
Turning, Hannah whispered in his ear before stumbling toward me. Poking her finger into my chest, she slurred, “I don’t need your help Ca-la-lum. Go home.”
Reaching an arm out to steady her, I groaned. “Jesus, Hannah, you’re drunk.”
Frowning, she thought about it for a moment before protesting, “No, I’m not.”
Maddox stepped forward, putting his big paws on Hannah, trying to release her from my grasp. “You okay, love?”
Lord, give me the strength.
Through gritted teeth, I said loud enough for him to hear over the music, “She’s not yourlove, Sterling.”
“She’s none of your business,” he shot back, a challenge in his eyes.
My erection died when I saw him put his hand up her skirt, and I was about to return the favor. Looking him dead in the eye, I delivered the fatal blow. “You might be right. But maybe there are enough cameras in this place that a video ends up on the internet, featuring you finger-fucking Ace Moreau’s daughter.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open, and Maddox’s eyes grew wide as he dropped his hands from her body and stepped back.
That’s right, pretty boy. Back away.
Turning, Hannah faced Maddox. He cut her off before she could say anything. “Is he telling the truth? Are you Ace’s daughter?”
Shoulders drooping, she admitted, “Yes.”
Looking over her head, he acknowledged me. “Thanks, brother.”
Nodding, I replied, “Anytime.”
Maddox looked at a slowly wilting Hannah, saying softly, “It was nice to meet you. I’ve gotta go.”
