Beautiful Trouble (Trouble, Tennessee 1)

Several long strides later, and his hand was clasped around her much smaller one. His fingers were laced with hers, and he was leading her to the dance floor, desperate to get her there and aware of the envious gazes at his back.

“Hello to you, too.” Her laugh was hypnotic. Her smile, downright contagious.

“Remember me?”

“Nah. I dance with strange men all the time.” The devilment in her voice made his cock hard. “After a while, it’s hard to keep ‘em straight.”

“I’m sure.” And he was stumbling over all sorts of sharper lines. Remember him? How the hell could she forget him? Or Mac. He quickly pushed aside the images of Mac and Sable grinding out one hot as hell screw. He’d waited patiently for them to finish and Mac had taken his sweet time, too.

She danced with strange men all the time? Was she serious? If so, did she fuck them, too?

He bit back the need to ask. Instead, he pulled her into a gentle sway, letting the music guide him so he could lead her.

“Where are your friends?” She rested her hands on his shoulders as he brought her closer.

They were at the very heart of the dance floor, right below one of the speakers. The resonating thump seemed to keep its beat with Nicholas’s runaway pulse. He tried to casually move away from all spectators, the men who’d eyed her suspiciously when she’d first entered there. “I don’t think you’re too interested in my friends. You haven’t looked around for them.”

“I assume they’re still here, maybe up in your—our—room?”

“Fishing?” He pressed his palm against her lower back and swept down for a kiss.

She turned her head and rested her cheek on his chest.

“Ouch.”

“You’re always in such a hurry.”

“You don’t strike me as a tease.”

“Did I tease you last night?” She reached between their bodies and gave his cock a quick squeeze.

A low and guttural growl slipped from his lips. “Careful, lover.”

“Do you always come in clubs looking for broads you can bang?”

“Never,” he replied, speaking the truth. He went to clubs to dance and play. He wasn’t one to score women in nightclubs. That was Mac’s department.

One slow song overlapped another. Nicholas caressed her back as they danced, pinching the material and lifting her shirt, anxious to feel her bare skin against his fingertips, her silken flesh covered in goose bumps. He stroked the top of her thong, dipped a little lower and taunted her with illicit ideas that would lead them back to that suite on the top floor.

“You never answered my question.” She peered up at him from under long, curled lashes.

“Which question?” Was she more interested in the room or his buddies?

“Did you keep the room?”

“Did you want me to keep the room?”

“That depends.” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered. “Are you going to fuck me like you fucked me last night?”

His balls tightened as soon as her hot breath swept across his ear and by the time his foggy brain had processed what she’d asked, he was hard as steel and ready to screw her right there on the dance floor. Instead of being a real jackass and feeling her up, he reined in his libido and asked, “Why’d you come back here tonight?”

“Why do you think?”

“The correct answer here is—”

“I came back for you,” she admitted, gazing into his eyes.

“And them?” He wasn’t naïve. She hadn’t forgotten about his buddies. If so, he couldn’t wait to tell them he’d won the woman and the hot little snatch that went along with her.