“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a team player. I prefer to play one-on-one. It’s more . . . intimate.”
She felt his gaze burning into her. She met it head-on as her hand reached the promised land, scraping her fingernails up and down his rigid shaft. “Is it hard to get nominated?”
The only change in Ronin’s face was the ripple of his jaw muscle—but even that was there and gone. “Very hard.”
“Yes, it is.” Amery squeezed his cock one last time and leisurely slid her hand back down his leg.
They exchanged private, provocative looks as the remaining courses were served. None of their tablemates engaged them in conversation.
After the dessert and coffee course arrived, Ronin pulled Amery closer. “Leave your napkin on your lap and pull your dress up.”
Her head whipped around. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Slide your dress up so I can rub your clit until you come on my hand.”
Amery’s face flamed. “Ronin. There are over a thousand people here.”
He bent forward until his lips connected with the skin in front of her ear. “No, baby, it’s just you and me.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Spread your legs for me.”
The thought of baring herself as Ronin’s rough-tipped finger abraded her clit . . . made her absolutely dripping wet.
She rested her head against his shoulder, shifting to get comfortable as she slid her dress up.
Ronin nonchalantly dropped his hand between her thighs.
She squeezed his hand, stopping his forward motion. “Since you’re testing my control, it’s only fair I get to test yours too.”
“Now?”
“No. Later.”
“Fine. But right now it’s about you.”
Emboldened, she bit down on the outside of his ear. “You sure? I think this fingering-me-until-I-tremble plan is about you and your need for control.”
“Amery,” he half growled.
Definitely about his control. She discreetly widened her knees.
She only allowed a tiny surprised flinch when his finger wiggled beneath the edge of her thong and slipped down her slit. And back up. And down. Featherlight but insistent.
Then Ronin drew circles around her clit as if he intended to torture her. Her quads tightened in response.
“Look at me.”
Amery raised her head. His eyes were a shade darker than normal, but so compelling she couldn’t look away.
He stroked, swirled, and flicked his finger across that swollen nub, increasing the pace.
Somehow she kept still when a hot wave started in her tailbone and radiated upward into soft, dizzying pulses.
“How sexy you are right now. Cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you come for me. And no one knows but me.”
Ronin’s deep, quietly commanding voice rolled over her with as much power as the orgasm pulsating through her.
When the storm ended, he brushed his mouth over her temple. “You okay?”
“Better than okay.” Then reality encroached. “Do you think anyone—”
“No. We appear to be exactly what we are: lovers enjoying a quiet moment together.” Ronin discreetly removed his hand and tugged her dress down.
Amery didn’t dare look around the table. “Now what?”
“Let’s wander through the crowd and see if we can find trouble.”
“Very reckless tonight, Master Black.”
“You don’t have any idea. And the night is young.”
They exited the dining room and Ronin was waylaid several times. He remained polite but slightly aloof, which baffled most people. Including her.
So maybe seeing the many faces of Ronin Black bothered her. In the times they’d been together, had he really shown her the man beneath the mask? Or was that side of him a mask too?
They’d almost made it out of the ballroom when a barrel-chested man with thinning gray hair and an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth approached with what looked like a posse.
“I wondered what it’d take to get you out of that dojo on the wrong side of the tracks.”
Ronin offered the man a slight bow. “Always a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Pettigrew.”
Pettigrew. Even Amery recognized that name. Thaddeus Pettigrew of Pettigrew Petroleum, Pettigrew Properties, Pettigrew Mining, and the restaurant chain Pettigrew’s. He was rumored to be the richest man in Colorado.
“Cut the bullshit, Ronin. I got a dozen people fawning over me every damn day calling me Mr. Pettigrew. You’ve more than earned the right to call me TP in public too. Anyway, glad to see you here. I wanted to bend your ear and it saved me a trip to the seedy side of town.”
“Of which you currently own what? Twenty percent?”
Pettigrew grinned. “Closer to thirty now.”
“Any pies you don’t have your finger in, TP?”
“I steer clear of political soup. Since the bastards won’t let me smoke in here no matter how much green I dump in the coffers, I was headed outside. Walk with me. We can discuss that family business issue you called me about.”
Family business?
“I’d be happy to.” Ronin nudged Amery forward. “I’ll introduce my date before I leave her to her own devices. Amery Hardwick, Thaddeus Pettigrew.”
Amery offered her hand. “A pleasure, Mr. Pettigrew.”
“It certainly is.” Pettigrew winked at her. “I won’t keep your man long.”
Ronin matched his pace to the lumbering Pettigrew and they exited out a side door.
Amery marched to the bar and ordered a drink. Twenty minutes passed with no sign of Ronin.
Someone moved in behind her and she turned, hoping to see her date, but Tyler invaded her space.
“Dance with me.”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Where’s Chantal?”
“Who knows? You’ve been standing here by yourself for too long and so have I. The music is playing. Let’s dance.”
Amery’s gaze darted around the room. No sign of Ronin. And to be honest . . . it annoyed her she’d been cooling her heels so long. “Fine. One song.”
A rock power ballad came on. Tyler settled his hands above her ass. “Huh-uh,” she said. “No junior high slow-dancing.” She held up her hand in waltz formation.
He clasped her palm in his. “Did we ever dance like this when we were together?”
“I don’t remember. Why?”
“It’s nice. Better than the mosh pit at Theta Tau.”
“I wouldn’t know. I avoided that mass of writhing bodies back then.”
“But now? If you had the chance to do it again?
“I’d try it.”
“You’ve become the girl who’ll try anything once, huh?”
Amery shrugged.
“Still a little coy, but I don’t buy it because I can see how much you’ve changed.” He twirled them backward. “So, out of curiosity . . . why did you bail from the apartment complex after things ended between us? You just vanished and I didn’t know how to get in touch with you. I wondered if you were okay.”
Bullshit. She’d just changed apartments, not jobs. “I left after having enough of living in Tyler Pessac’s love hotel.” She cocked her head and studied him. “Did Chantal ever find out about Brittney? Did either of them know about Lorena? Or was the fact that their apartments were on different floors enough to keep them from seeing you sneak out of the others’ places?”
Tyler smirked. “See, that’s where everything gets blown out of proportion. Lorena was just one of those things. Brittney was a flash in the pan. I’m really sorry that I didn’t come clean with you about Chantal. There were better ways for you to find out—”
“Than letting myself into your apartment and witnessing Chantal bent over your couch as you fucked her? Yeah, you’re probably right. An e-card or a text would’ve worked better as a breakup instead of the live sex show.”