Primal Pursuit

“I’m not.”

“I’ll get security to escort you out.”

My heart slams into my ribs, and I temper it with slow breaths. He’s testing me. So I test him back. “Well, that’s boring of you. Do it, if this tepid shit is all your club has to offer.”

He looks down at me and swirls the amber liquid in his glass. “Who said it’s mine?”

“Let’s call it a hunch.”

For a moment, I think I’ve lost him, but he sips the drink and nods to where the girl’s being tongue bathed, and she’s writhing, moaning like she’s coming like a porn star. “And you think that’s beneath you?”

Davian just watches me, like he’s using a knife to slice open my skin to get inside and he’s evaluating again, this time on a microlevel, and it makes me want to pant, it makes me want to shower. It makes me, I’m ashamed to say, wet.

“Next time, try not to hold back.” He doesn’t smile, even though I’ve got a feeling he can pour on the charm like syrup. “And what’s your idea of a good time?”

I consider the answers. Consider what I know of him.

“Something that isn’t that.” I pause. “Something honest.”

He leans in, and his scent winds about me. It’s dark and dirty. Havana nights of rum and tobacco, of Turkish roses and honeyed secrets. It’s dangerous and sophisticated. Unexpected and somehow something I want to breathe down into my soul.

“I can show you honest,” he murmurs.

My legs tremble as flame licks my pussy and I start to ache.

I fucking hate him.

“What if I’m not interested anymore?” My words are flat. Deliberate. And the dangle of the hook.

He downs his drink, puts down the glass, and says, “That’s too damn bad. You’re fucking next.”

Chapter

Two

DAVIAN

Her face is a fuckingmasterpiece of giveaways and tells.

Beneath the smooth mask of cool indifference is a goddamn microcosm of emotions that clash and flare and dance like one hell of an interstellar storm. I see it in her eyes as I study her.

Soft tendrils frame her face, giving her an angelic appearance. But this one is no angel. Her ornate bunny mask doesn’t hide as much of her face as the rest of the women here tonight. Makes me think she wants to be seen.

Her pulse in her throat throbs as she swallows, and beneath the low line of her dress’s decolletage, her surprisingly full tits hitch an unexpected rise as a blush spreads.

My words caught the girl unaware, and she gives it all away even as her vixen-painted nails tap in supposed indifference on the bar.

She might not like the show we’re putting on here tonight, and she called it out for what it is, but she likes me.

No. Like’s the wrong fucking word.

Iaffecther, and yet she doesn’t seem to want to play. But she’s getting my attention anyway. For now, at least.

“Next for what? Naked cage go-go dancing?” She pauses. “Or a full-on live sex show? Because that…” She waves a hand at the writhing girl who needs to tone it the fuck down and enjoy herself. It’s a sex club not a fucking porn audition. “…doesnotinterest me. At all.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?”

Her eyes cut up to mine. They’re dark blue like deep ocean waters on a cold, cloudless day and just as friendly. “To see if all the hype around this place is warranted.”