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A side he thought he’d buried a long time ago. But it was still there, the doubt, the mistrust…the fear. Projecting those feelings on Alex was far from okay.

But he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this. Disturbingly, it was becoming far too easy to play this role with her. His possessiveness, it seemed, knew no limits.

Chapter Eleven

Alex took the shot Piper handed her and, ignoring Deacon’s heated stare, downed it in one.

She was pissed, but her body didn’t give a crap and clenched traitorously. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d had his hand down the front of her underwear a short time ago.

Deacon leaned in and said something to Piper, making her laugh, and Alex sneaked another look. She hadn’t seen him like this since he was in college. He’d switched out the tailored suit for a pair of worn jeans that molded to his long legs and firm ass. The black shirt he wore clung to his broad shoulders and biceps, the sleeves rolled up, showing off his amazing forearms.

Some people might think it was weird, getting all hot and bothered over forearms, but Deacons were beautiful. All corded muscle and tanned skin.

“Tequila!” Rusty yelled, shaking her out of her haze of lust, and handed her another shot.

“This is gonna hurt in the morning.” Her friend laughed, then they both downed their drinks and slammed the empties on the bar.

“Let’s dance.” Piper grabbed their hands and leaned into her brother. “Come dance with us?”

He shook his head. “You girls go have fun. I’ll get another round of drinks.”

Piper popped her bottom lip. “I don’t want to leave you all on your own.”

Rusty snorted. “He won’t be alone for long.”

Deacon grinned like the motherfucking cat that got the cream. Was that why he’d insisted on coming? To flaunt some bimbo in front of her, to pay her back for bailing on their plans? Perhaps he’d decided being with her was too much effort.

He met and held her gaze. “Never know what the night will bring.”

Overbearing bastard. How dare he show up and try to ruin her night. If he wanted to play games, she could play games. Smiling wide, she made sure her silent screw you was there to see.

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step toward her.

Oh, no, you don’t.

Before he could open his mouth, she spun on her heel and headed to the dance floor. “Let’s do this!”

Oh, yeah, Deacon had been super pissed that she’d walked away from him and remained that way as she danced the next five songs nonstop so she could avoid him. She knew this because she’d cast sneaky looks his way every now and then and, as per her shitty luck, had been caught every time.

His dark gaze hadn’t left her once; she’d felt it, the heat of it moving over her skin. And she’d secretly loved it.

But now, instead of watching her, those green eyes were focused on a hot blonde with a killer rack and a pouty mouth.

Deacon’s usual type.

“You wanna dance?” Alex turned toward the deep voice.

The guy standing behind her was good-looking, tall, a little rough around the edges. Perfect one-night-stand material.

“We already are,” she yelled back. He’d come in closer, moving with her to the music. His grin widened, and he pulled her in to his body, both hands landing on her hips.

Before long they were dancing with the deep, sensual bass of the song.

She rested her hands on his biceps. They were firm, more lean muscle than bulk. Not like Deacon. Deke worked out a lot, and it showed. This guy was definitely nothing to sneeze at, though. She might’ve considered taking him home for the night if things were different. This was the kind of guy she imagined she’d end up with. This guy was from her world.

The song ended and another one started. It had a faster tempo, but she and Mr. Rough Around the Edges didn’t break apart or pick up the pace.

“You got any place to be later?” he said against her ear.