Relentless (Renegades 4)

She couldn't stem the embarrassed grin that lifted her mouth. The alcohol was definitely helping her relax. She shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “You sort of remind me of someone.”

“Do I?” he asked with too much intensity, leaning closer. “Who's that?”

“I'd rather not say.”

“Is that reminder a good thing or a bad thing?”

She thought of Troy, and for the millionth time since she'd walked away , Giselle wondered where he was now. When she spoke with Nathan, he always assured her Troy was fine, but she never asked for more and Nathan never offered. It was better that way.

“A good thing. A very good thing.” Then her mind drifted to the end of their relationship, to the anger, the hurt, the disappointment, and her smile faded. “Mostly, anyway.”

“I'll stick with 'a very good thing.'”

She met his gaze again, and deliberately put her past out of her mind. Instead, she scanned her memory for where she might have met this man-a party, a concert, backstage…? She met so many people. “Do you… I mean, have we met?”

His expression softened a little, and those brown eyes slid to her mouth as he answered. “Oh, I'd never forget you, angel. Maybe we met in another life…if you believe in that sort of thing.”

If she was ever going to believe in such things, tonight would be the night.

“If you're not here to hook up,” he said, resting his chin in his hand, “what brought you in? Are you indulging a voyeuristic fetish tonight?”

She wasn't sure what to say to that, because she wasn't interested in either answering or not answering. She really just wanted to enjoy looking at him, listening to his voice, feeling his presence. And he encouraged her to stare with an open, intent, unwavering gaze, as if she were the only woman in the room. As if raw, live sex wasn't pumping on a stage just yards away.

She exhaled slowly and glanced over her shoulder. “Where are your demons, Mr. Devil? Surely you want to go play with them in the dungeon, or purgatory, or some other equally evil room in the back.”

Another one of his sexy chuckles brushed the air. “This devil sent his demons away to play on their own. I've got a sudden taste for something more…heavenly…tonight.”

His voice was low and smooth and controlled. He was sophisticated, but not in an old-money, corporate, politician kind of way. She would peg him as more independent, clever, off-the-cuff. More…venture capital-like. Someone who ran his own show. A self-made man with money and power, earned from time in the trenches. And his intelligence seemed more street savvy than intellectual. She liked all that. It meshed with who she was. Maybe that was why she felt drawn to him.

“What do you think of the show?” he asked without looking away.

When she glanced toward the stage, she found the woman on her knees, sucking the guy as if she were ravenous for his cock. The man had one hand tangled in her hair, the other hanging loose at his side. His head dropped back, mouth open on a guttural growl that shook through Giselle.

“Do you like sucking cock, angel?” His voice dropped to a secretive hum and shivered over her skin, lifting gooseflesh. The direct and shocking question sizzled through her body like an open current.

She laughed out, “What kind of question is that?”

“The kind people ask in sex clubs. Is this the first one you've ever been in or is this just your first time here?”

Her face flushed with heat, and she was wishing she'd used her common sense and told Chad this idea was ridiculous. “Ever. You must not be a regular here, or you'd know that.”

“Mmm, no. I'm from out of town.”

“This is Las Vegas. Everyone is from out of town.”

His lips kicked up on one side. “True. Where are you from?”

“Good question. Sort of…everywhere, I guess. You?”

“LA.”

“And do you frequent these clubs in LA? Is this your lifestyle of choice?”

His smile faded. He pulled in a slow deep breath and let it out with a heavy “No.”

/> She lifted one brow in disbelief. “No?”

“No. This is the only club I belong to, and I don't come often.” He returned his gaze to hers, his eyes direct, his expression so serious, he looked almost grim. “I come here when the darkness closes in. I come for distraction. For oblivion. So, no. This isn't the lifestyle I prefer, but one I occasionally need to stay sane.”