These people were sheer fucking magic. They were also hard to be with. The fact that they were always surrounded by others meant that you were constantly vying for their attention. Women would flock to and flirt with them right in front of you, act as if you weren’t even there. Mila had learned fast that guys like GQ weren’t for her.
That didn’t stop her heart from beating a little faster as he sidled up to her, his mouth curving into a slow, lazy smile. And now he was eye-fucking her again. She didn’t look away this time. No, she forced herself to face him, determined to play it cool. But her blood heated as his hooded, brooding eyes blatantly raked over her from head to toe.
Sexual energy hummed in the air, stirring her hormones and whipping them into a frenzy. And his darkly delicious scent of amber, rum, and caramelized sugar only made her hungrier.
His eyes came back to hers, glittering with something dark and hot that made her pulse skitter and her cat snap to attention. The air thickened. Charged. Crackled. And little sparks of electricity whispered across Mila’s flesh, making it prickle. Fuck, the guy was beyond potent.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, which was now bone dry. As he stared at it hungrily, his tongue briefly flicked out to touch his lower lip. Her pussy quivered. Quivered. Shit, how did he do that?
This male was dangerous. Far too tempting. Far too compelling. A distinct threat to the composure of all womankind. But she’d be damned if she’d let him see what he did to her. No, she was absolutely determined to stay strong under the weight of all that sex appeal. Luckily, she’d always been good at feigning disinterest in things or people.
“Madisyn tells me you’re one of Vinnie’s cats,” said GQ, his voice so silky smooth it gave her goose bumps. “I’m Dominic. And you are . . . ?”
The name suited him, she thought. “Mila.”
He tilted his head. “Why are you looking so down, Mila? Let me guess—it hurt when you fell from heaven, right?”
“No. But hauling my ass out of hell was a bastard of a climb.”
Chuckling, he cast her bottle of water a quick look. “Let me buy you a real drink.”
“I’d prefer to just have the cash.”
Dominic’s brows lifted, his eyes twinkling. “Would you now?”
“Yeah, these are hard times we live in.”
“True.” Dominic tipped his chin at the mountain of muscle behind him, although he kept his eyes on her. “See my pack mate over there? He wants to know if you think I’m hot.”
“Why? Does he have his eye on you and consider me competition?”
Dominic’s smile widened. “Yeah. He and I are both gay. Think you can convert me?”
She snorted and then turned to Madisyn. “Is he always like this?”
With a regretful sigh, Madisyn nodded. “Yeah.”
Dominic edged closer, his eyes dropping to her enticing mouth again. Lush and bow-shaped, it was straight out of every X-rated fantasy he’d ever had. Up close, he could see that although Mila was slim, she wasn’t all skin and bones as he’d first thought. No, she had delicate curves in all the right places, and damn if he didn’t want to get a better look at them.
He itched to touch her flawless olive skin and see if it was as petal-soft as it looked. Maybe even take a bite. His wolf liked that idea, wanted to leave a mark or two on her flesh—not out of possessiveness but to get her attention. She had such an aloof “I could give few fucks” way about her that his wolf felt overlooked. Especially now as she chatted with Madisyn, like Dominic wasn’t even there. Which, perversely, made him smile.
She laughed at something the barmaid said, and Jesus, the smoky sound was like fingers curling around his cock. He’d been rock hard since she’d started singing onstage, and his dick showed no sign of standing down. A greedy ache to possess her had him in a tight grip, and it was made worse by the electric energy she gave off that fluttered across his nape. And God, her scent . . . Frosted berries, rosewood, and sweet honey. Yeah, he wanted more of that. His wolf wanted to lap it up.
The odd “note” to her scent told Dominic that her parents weren’t the same breed of shifter. When different breeds conceived a child, said child would be the breed of one of their parents. But just as they would have the physical characteristics of both parents, they would carry a hint of both breeds in their scent. He could smell the pallas cat in her, but he couldn’t quite make out what the extra “note” to that smell was. “Which one is the pallas cat—your mother or your father?”
Mila blinked at him, surprised. “My dad.”
“What’s your mom?”
“A wolverine.”
His brows flew up again. “Your mother is a wolverine? Oh, Mila, you just get more and more interesting. Can you introduce me to her? I’ve never met a wolverine.”
Mila could only stare at him. The guy wanted to meet a wolverine? Most breeds of shifter pointedly avoided them. “I’m beginning to think you’re not quite sane.”
“Admittedly, you’re not the only person who feels that way. Does that mean you won’t go home with me?”
“Is there much point? I doubt it would be easy for two people to fit in a cardboard box.”
He laughed. “Mila, you’re a tough audience.” Damn, he really liked this cat. Liked her sharp wit, dry humor, and aura of electricity. Liked her quiet confidence—it was in her easy smile, her unapologetically direct stare, and the self-assured way she carried herself.
Her feline air of indifference was like a challenge, and he just wanted to find some way to crack that poker face. But she wasn’t giving him any openings. She practically batted away his pickup lines. Dismissed his flirtatiousness. Snorted at his attempts to charm her.
He knew she was attracted to him—he could see it, sense it—but she didn’t appear interested in acting on it. She wasn’t playing coy or hard to get. Wasn’t testing him or attempting to take control of the situation by leading their dance; he knew those games and could spot them easily.
He had the clear sense that she was simply very selective in her choice of sexual partners and, for whatever reason, he didn’t meet her standards. Yeah, that poked at his ego. It also made him determined to meet this challenge she presented.
Fighting the urge to tug on one of those unruly curls and then watch it spring back into place, Dominic said, “Come on, you’re not going to make me go home all alone, are you? That’s mean. Or maybe you’re just nervous. What is it, are you a virgin?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Prove it.”
Oh, this guy is pure trouble, Mila thought. Especially since he was stirring the interest of her moody cat—not just sexually, but because the cat sensed there were many facets to this male, and she couldn’t quite understand why he was hiding them. Yeah, Mila herself got the feeling that he wasn’t quite the shameless, shallow flirt he came across as to others.
When he stepped farther into Mila’s personal space, his eyes fixing on her mouth yet again, she knew it was time to go. Bottle of water in hand, Mila slid off the stool and said to Madisyn, “Good luck protecting this one from himself.”
Dominic pushed away from the bar. “You really won’t take me with you? Come on, if you don’t enjoy yourself, well, you’ve only wasted five hours of your life. Eight if you wanna include foreplay.”