Risk (Vault 1)

I stand on my tiptoes and press a kiss to Dylan’s cheek. “You are the motherfucking bomb. I owe you big time for this.”

He grins again and glances at the bar. “I aim to please. And now it’s time for a beer.”

I motion for him to walk that way. “I’m right behind you, but you need to promise me you’ll cut my supply after three drinks.” I may want to irritate my mother, but I don’t want to embarrass her in front of her friends. See, good daughter here.

Still with the grin in place, he asks, “Where would the fun be in that, babe?” He winks before turning and heading towards the bar. It’s that wink that always—always—does the girls in. They fall at his feet when he throws one into a conversation.

I follow him and am still smiling when my world slows as I catch sight of Owen at the bar.

He’s dressed in a black suit, hair styled into that almost-messy sexy look I’ve fallen hard for, and just the right amount of scruff on his face.

And he’s staring right at me with hungry eyes.

If his looks weren’t enough to make my heart stutter, the way he’s watching me like he wants to eat me would do the trick.

“Holy shit,” I murmur. I’m not sure if I’ll be capable of uttering any other words when I reach him.

Dylan stops and looks at me. “Did you say something?”

Owen’s eyes shift to take Dylan in, and I catch a slight clenching of his jaw before I drag my gaze from him to focus on Dylan. Shaking my head, I say, “Fuck… No… No, nothing.” The words don’t want to come out of my mouth, so I’m forcing them here.

Dylan frowns. “You okay?”

“Yeah, my boss is here. That’s all.”

Understanding crosses his features. “Ah, the guy who wants to fuck you, but then leaves town without another word for three days? That boss?”

Dylan’s wearing his protective pants tonight. Actually, he’s been wearing them all week ever since I told him what happened in Owen’s office on Sunday. He’s wary of me doing anything wit

h Owen because of the impact it may have on my job. But he’s doubly pissed because I haven’t seen or heard from Owen since we kissed.

I’m disappointed not to have heard from him, but to be fair, he hasn’t been at work all week, so I guess he’s been busy with something. Or sick. But looking at him now, he doesn’t look sick. He looks as far from sick as you can get.

And well, he’s my boss.

Sure, I kissed him and almost fucked him.

But there aren’t any promises between us.

I place my hands on Dylan’s chest. “Can we please not have a scene tonight?” He has a track record for taking shots at the guys I date if they let me down. Tonight’s not the night for that.

He doesn’t agree to my request, but he does say, “I’m keeping my eyes on him, Char. He upsets you, I’m stepping in. Simple as that.”

I figure that’s the best I’ll get. Dylan’s protective streak knows no bounds. “Okay.”

With that, he turns back around and we continue heading to the bar.

I meet Owen’s gaze again, but I don’t go to him because he’s in the middle of a conversation with two men. He might be talking, but he doesn’t stop watching me. By the time I hit the bar, my legs are weak and butterflies have taken over my tummy. The way Owen watches a woman he wants to fuck should be banned if there isn’t consent from all parties involved.

You kissed him.

And let him touch you in inappropriate places.

Hell, you made him look at your panties. If that’s not consent, I don’t know what is.

Jesus, if I could extract the voice from my head, I would. It never freaking shuts up.

“Charlize.” Warm breath whispers across my neck, and I jump.