Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,19

break.” He licks his lips as his eager gaze sweeps over my skinny jeans and pauses on my shoulder, which is bared by the wide neck of my slouchy shirt.

Dancers aren’t shy about showing skin, and I’m no exception. James can leer all he wants if he keeps his hands to himself.

He bends closer, resting a hand on the stage beside my hip. “This might come across as a little aggressive…”

“It’s only aggressive if you have something aggressive in mind.”

“Go out with me tonight.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, you’re a beautiful woman.” He leans a hip against the platform. “It just so happens I have a thing for beautiful women.” His smile twists suggestively. “I get off work in an hour. What do you say we get to know each other?”

A smart girl would tell him to get lost, but I’m a glutton for mischievous conversation. “What would getting to know each other involve?”

His eyebrows jump up, and he quickly smooths his expression. “Dinner?”

“I already ate.”

“Drinks?”

“Then what?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh…”

“Tell me exactly how you imagine getting to know me, James.” I trap my bottom lip between my teeth and release it. “Or are you afraid to say?”

A shadow moves at the edge of my vision. It’s out of focus, but I make out a tall silhouette in the doorway behind James. I don’t shift my gaze. I don’t have to. The sensation of being lividly and intensely glared at tells me exactly who lingers at the entrance of the dining room.

“I have lots of ideas.” James scratches his beard and scrutinizes my body with slimy intent, oblivious of the casino owner standing behind him. “I don’t know if I should say—”

“You better spit it out before my employer gets here. He hasn’t had sex in years, and it’s turned him into an intolerable, angry ogre.”

“You work here?”

“Nope. What happens after drinks, James?”

“Okay, so I’m thinking…” He fiddles with his necktie. “I’ll take you home. And kiss you. And touch you. And make sweet love to you.”

I don’t even try to hide my cringe. “Boring.”

“What? Which part?”

“Make sweet love? Dude, you can do better than that.”

“I don’t know wha—”

“Do you like anal play?” Knowing Trace is listening makes it damn hard to keep a straight face, but somehow, I manage it.

James sucks in a breath and flattens a hand over his heart. “Yes! I mean, what man doesn’t?”

“Your rectum, James. Not mine. Have you ever been pegged by a thirteen-inch dildo?”

“No.” A flush rises up his neck, and he retreats backward a step. “Fuck, no.”

“That’s too bad. We could’ve had something beautiful together.”

“Enough.” Trace appears beside James, his murderous glare trained on the other man.

Recognition widens James’ eyes as Oh-Jesus-I’m-fucked contorts his expression.

“You’re fired.” Trace bares his teeth, towering over James. “Gather your things and—”

“Stop it.” I poke a toe against Trace’s rock-hard thigh then lean toward James, whispering loudly around the cup of my hand. “He can’t get it up. Makes him unbearably bad-tempered.”

“Danni.” Trace growls.

“Don’t worry about him,” I say to James, leaning back. “You’re not fired.”

“Mr. Savoy? Sir?” He drops his chin, practically bowing. “I need this job. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Trace clasps his hands behind him, his glower firmly directed at James. “You harassed a casino employee—”

“A casino guest.” I cross my legs at the knee and bounce my foot. “I harassed him. The poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

“That’s not what I overheard.”

“Sounds like a you problem. Get your hearing checked.”

“I have zero tolerance for this kind of behavior in my casino.” His voice is steady and controlled as it snaps through the room.

“So authoritative and manly.” I feign a shiver and blink doe eyes at him. “Being the weak vulnerable female that I am, I would’ve never been able to handle this conversation on my own.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. Maybe he’ll grab at his hair and mess it all up. As is, every blond strand flawlessly molds into a textured slick-back style. But he doesn’t scrape a hand through it, doesn’t clench his fists, or do anything to suggest an unraveling composure. I can’t decide if his indomitable self-control is sexy or aggravating.

“James.” I prop an elbow on my thigh and rest my hand beneath my chin. “Will you hit on casino guests in the future?”

“No.” James looks from me to Trace. “I promise, sir.”

Trace points his scowl at me, and I give him a playful wink.

“Consider this your only warning.” He stabs a finger toward the door.