"Mr. Morris, just because my company might be interested in signing you to an endorsement deal does not mean I came to this party looking for you," I said.
"Liar." He stepped closer to me and the other man stood up.
"Look, buddy, we've all seen your posters, your billboards, but that doesn't give you leave to harass the lady," the clean-cut man said.
Fenton's eyes flickered towards the other man and his whole body turned as hard as marble. His eyes went flat, and I knew I had to do something
.
"Alright, fine. I want you. Happy?" I asked.
The man who bought me a drink frowned. "I'll be around if you need me." He shoved past Fenton, like pushing a Roman column, and strode off down the bar.
"I want you right here," Fenton said. He pointed to his arm.
I took it, my fingers flexing to test the chiseled rock of his bicep. He grinned and his blue eyes flashed with a devilish light. He whirled me into the crowd, people automatically giving him space. It was impossible not to appreciate his confident gait, and I clung to his arm as tame as a kitten. He made me want to purr, and I was horrified at the undeniable thought.
He stopped here and there to sign autographs, my arm still clamped against his body as he scribbled. More than one flirtatious hopeful frowned at me, and I smiled back serenely. They all wanted to be where I was, and I enjoyed my sudden security. The Vegas nightclub was his to command and he had chosen me.
"I am loving that dress," he said. He pulled me closer and dropped a quick look down my cleavage.
"Yeah, well, my silver sequins are at the dry cleaners," I said.
"Makes you stand out," he said. "Black's my favorite color."
"Ugh. Next you’re going to tell me you ride a motorcycle." I swept a look up and down him, the same as he'd done to me. "Anything you think makes you look like a bad boy, right?"
"Last time I checked, I had earned my reputation," Fenton said.
"Please, I know your manager. If anyone could buy you a conviction for assaulting a police officer, it would be Kevin Casey."
Fenton laughed, a hearty burst that kicked my heart into high gear. "Actually, that's how I met Kev. He was in the drunk tank that night."
"So, you're a bad boy that likes the color black. What's with the blue shirt?" I asked.
"It sets off my eyes," he said.
I swallowed hard. He was right, and it was hard to avoid his bright blue glances. Every time I felt one sweep over me, my body tingled.
"And, I drive a Maserati, not a motorcycle." He pulled me up the steps to the V.I.P. Lounge. "Now, I'm liking you on my arm, but I have a booth reserved, if you want to sit with me."
My mind flashed over what his wide hands could do to me under the discreet cover of a table. The thought melted my insides. "How about another drink?"
Fenton steered me towards the bar, where he unhooked my arm only to slip his hand around my waist. The heat of his flat palm against my stomach was enough to send fissures of pleasure through the rest of my body. I decided two drinks were enough, but I had been so distracted by the sensations he caused that Fenton ordered me another whiskey and soda.
"Thanks," I took a long sip. "So, how did you know I was here to sign you?"
"I saw you earlier. Kev told me about you," he said. Fenton kept his arm wrapped around me as he drank a tall beer. "Too bad I don't do endorsement deals."
"You might if I ask," I said.
His lips curled into another sinful smile. "And here I heard you were all prim and proper. Miss Country Club Princess."
"You can't hold my upbringing against me," I said.
Fenton's smile softened and my heart flopped. "I know what that's like, so you're right. I won't hold your upbringing against you." He pulled me closer. "But maybe other things, if you ask."
I spun out of his hold. It was too easy to flirt with him and forget all about work. "Sorry, I have to respond to this."