What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,48

midnight.”

“Feels later than that.”

“Were you really going to pick up that kid?” he growled. She chuckled, then swung her hips in a circle, grinding her ass back against his crotch.

“Would it really bother you?” she asked in return. One of his hands came up to her face and gripped her by the jaw, forcing her to look up at him.

“Considering that I paid for exclusive rights to you? Yes, it would fucking bother me,” he informed her, and then he gave her another one of his punishing kisses. His tongue overwhelmed her mouth, then he was pulling away so he could bite down on her bottom lip. She gasped at the intensity of it, then laughed.

She wondered if he had any idea that his idea of punishment was her idea of pleasure.

“No, I wasn't going to pick him up,” Valentine assured him when he let her go.

“Good.”

She turned around to face him, and almost sighed when she did so. Ari was so good looking, it was almost too much. There was a touch of old Hollywood glamour about him, she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was the thick wavy hair, or the firm jaw. The steely eyes. He was a man's-man, through and through, and she felt that in every hormone in her body.

“Did you come from work?” she asked, sliding a finger down the side of his lapel.

“Late dinner with clients,” he corrected her, his gaze moving over her own outfit. “I gotta say, Valentine, every time I know we're going to meet, I look forward to seeing what you're wearing.” He grabbed one of her hands and held it aloft, then stepped back, as if displaying her. “And tonight is no disappointment. Goddamn.”

She'd dressed with him in mind. He was always in expensive tailored suits, every time she saw him. Very proper, he could walk into any court room, any business establishment, at any time, and fit right in. So she'd guessed that what had attracted him to her was that she was the opposite – she usually looked either grungy, or slightly slutty, and always hot. Not quite fit for anywhere but a night club.

Tonight Val combined all three things into one look. She was wearing a pair of tall, chunky, heeled boots, thigh high stockings with matching garter belt, panties and matching bra, and then an oversized white t-shirt with some old band logo on it. The tee fell past the tops of her thighs, and hung off one shoulder. All her naughty bits were covered, but the outfit gave the impression a person might catch a glimpse if they were patient enough.

“I was going for comfortable cute,” she said, smiling big at him.

“I think you achieved it. Do you realize you've forgotten to put on pants?”

“I did!?”

Ari smirked at her, then reined her in close

“Val O'Dell by day,” he said. “Saint Valentine by night. Does having two identities ever get tiring?”

She thought for a second, then responded, “no – it actually makes life easier.”

“It certainly makes it a lot funner.” Then he was cupping his hands around either side of her neck and forcing her ear to his lips. “Let's get out of here.”

“You want to leave? You just got here,” she pointed out, pulling back from him. “Besides, did you see who's here tonight?”

“I don't care who's here,” he let her go. “I want to be alone with you. The Moon Room is full, and I think there's an orgy going on in that big lady's room. There's no privacy here.”

“Okay, first of all, she's not big – she's the sexiest person I know,” Val snapped. Ari raised his eyebrows.

“Who said she wasn't sexy?” he countered, and she felt duly chastised.

“And second of all, I can't just leave work.”

“Valentine,” he laughed. “Your 'work' just arrived. I know the deal you have with Del about staying until midnight. Why do you think I waited till now to show up? So from now until five in the morning, I'm essentially your boss.”

“You're my customer.”

“Yeah, well, the customer's always right. Now dance that cute ass upstairs – we're getting out of here.”

“It's crazy here tonight, Del will pitch a fit -”

“Del is fine with it,” Ari snapped, cutting her off. “Del knows the deal. If you don't want to leave with me, then just say it. I can handle rejection, Valentine. Excuses, on the other hand, make me sick. I'm allergic to pathetic people.”

She stared up at him. Was she making excuses? It was