As I cross the room, Jorie’s eyes seem to focus on something, so I look that way.
A man, lounging provocatively on one of the couches, beckons her closer. She smiles at him and moves his way.
Oh, hell no.
I cut across toward her on the diagonal, hurdling one of the low chaises to stand in front of her ten feet before she reaches the guy.
“Not going to happen,” I tell her firmly as she’s brought up short.
Jorie smiles up at me, and that black hair with her bangs right over those green eyes makes a startling effect. They remind me of the snake in The Jungle Book, the way it hypnotized that little boy. Jorie used to make Micah and me watch that with her over and over again. I hated that stupid movie but right now, the memories make me want to smile.
“Good,” she says as she steps in close to me, placing a hand on my stomach. “You’ve come to your senses.”
Christ, it kills me, but I take her hand in mine and push it gently off. “My senses are the same as they were this morning. Nothing’s changed. You’re just not going to be using this club to get your rocks off.”
“Well, that’s fine if you don’t feel any differently,” Jorie says calmly and makes a move to step around me. “But you have no control over me. I can do whatever I want in this club.”
Fury rages through me that she’s so cavalier about this. She doesn’t seem put out at all that I’m not interested in her that way, but that rage is nothing compared to what I feel at the thought of some random dude putting his hands on her.
“Jorie,” I warn, and I swear it’s the same tone I used once when she was little and was getting ready to touch the outdoor grill my dad was cooking on.
She turns fully to me, and I can’t help but notice the way her breasts sway under the material of her top as she does. I want to fucking bite them.
“You can either fuck me or I’m getting it from someone else tonight,” she says resolutely.
My cock is jumping up and down yelling, Pick me, pick me. “I don’t think of you that way.”
Jorie rolls her eyes because she knows that’s as ludicrous a statement as it sounds.
“But you have thought of me that way,” she says, reminding me of something that shames me greatly. Tilting her head slightly, she asks, “Tell me, Walsh… how old was I? What was your dirty thought?”
I don’t answer. I refuse to answer.
“Want to know a secret?” she asks.
I keep my mouth firmly clamped shut.
She leans in and whispers. “I’ve had dirty thoughts about you before… when I was younger. Lots of them actually.”
My balls start tingling. She thought of me that way before?
“Back when I first started, um… discovering things about my body,” she continues in a husky tone. “When I’d lay in bed at night and touch myself.”
Jesus fuck.
Her eyes study me carefully, waiting to see some reaction. I don’t show it, though. I don’t let her see I want her so badly that I’d sell my soul to the devil right now just sink to my cock an inch inside her pussy. Clamping down hard on my conscience for stability, I refuse to let myself be baited into something I’ll regret again, no matter how good it will feel getting to that regret.
Realizing she’s not getting the reaction she wants, she gives a nonchalant shrug and sidesteps me, her intent to head to the man she was originally walking toward.
I turn and watch her take a step, then another.
One more, and I’m filled with a dire urgency to prevent her from doing this.
No… filled with a need to prevent her from doing this with anyone but me.
It only takes me two paces before I’ve got her hand locked in mine. She gives a small gasp as I pull her in the opposite direction toward the exit door.
“What are you doing?” she asks as she tries to pull away.
“I’m taking you back to my place.” I give a tug on her so she catches up to my long stride. “And I don’t want to hear anything from you about it. You want me to fuck you? Fine, but it’s going to be done in privacy.”
She doesn’t say a word, so I keep muttering. “Can’t believe you came to a sex club, for fuck’s sake. Or came back to one a second time. Jesus, Jorie… just… fuck.”
I think I hear her husky laugh and I swear I’d strangle her if it was true, but I grit my teeth and don’t say another word as we make our way back to the Social Room.
“Call down and have them bring my car around,” I tell Larissa.
“Yes, Mr. Brooks,” she says as I punch the elevator button. The doors immediately open, and we walk in. Jorie stands close to me on the ride down. Maybe I’m going crazy or something, but I feel like I can smell her lust. Or maybe it’s mine I’m smelling.
We reach the bottom floor, through the lobby of the Onyx Casino, and for the first time, I leave The Wicked Horse with a hard-on. My car is indeed waiting for me, and my driver opens the door. With my hand gently on Jorie’s back, I guide her in first. She moves to the opposite side. When I get in, I stick to my side, knowing if I touch her, I’ll fuck her before we make it back to The Royale.
In fact, I don’t even look at her.
She’s too much of a temptation.
CHAPTER 8
Jorie
I’m slightly disappointed that Walsh pulled me out of The Wicked Horse. The sexual energy in that place is off the charts, and I want to do very bad things with him in front of a lot of people.
But I can’t be too disappointed when I’m ultimately getting what I wanted, which is Walsh. He might be like my older brother in some ways, but not in enough to deter me the way it’s deterring him. I’ve crushed on the man since I knew what a crush was, and I wasn’t lying when I said I had dirty thoughts about him. But we went our separate ways, and I forgot about him in those sexy ways.
Until last night when he had me in The Wicked Horse, and now it might be fair to say I’m obsessed with feeling that way again. Yes, we were in a public place and yes, he had me on a freaking dildo machine, but truth be told… it was all Walsh who made me feel so good. I may not have known it was him behind that mask, but I certainly was drawn to many things about the mysterious man. His physical looks, his magnetic presence, and his completely alpha orders to me were exactly what I was craving.
Vince was not like that in bed. If anything, he was sort of passive and unsure of himself at times the more I think about it. Well, the more I compare him to Walsh. Maybe I wasn’t any good with him because he didn’t give me any reason to be?
The ride to The Royale is done in silence because I’m afraid that one mistaken word from me will have Walsh simply driving me to Henderson and dumping me off at my apartment. I know I’ve pushed him to his limits and I’ve goaded him into something that he feels is wrong, but ultimately my conscience can handle that for two reasons.
First, he’s a big boy and he had a choice. He chose me.
Second, he might think it’s wrong, but I’m positive he wants me very badly so I’m really doing him a solid.
Right?
Our car pulls up to the front of The Royale. Walsh opens the door and steps out without waiting for the driver. He’s pissed at me so I’m surprised when he offers me his hand to exit. I do so, tugging my skirt back down. I’d dressed totally appropriate for The Wicked Horse, but not so much to walk through an elegant hotel.