“Being adventurous and having a death wish are two different things,” Cole reminded her as she stood from the stool and stepped down from the small dais the bar sat upon before turning for the door.
She watched suspiciously as one of the men at the table closest to her pushed his bottle of whisky across the table in invitation. He lounged back in his chair, lazily relaxed, his black eyes curious as he watched her.
Now there was one willing to break the rules, she thought admiringly. It was too bad that for this first confrontation with Ian, it was much better that no other males be involved.
Too bad Thom and Cole weren’t as forthright.
What had ever made her think that the men in his club would dare go against Ian’s orders? He was as dangerous to cross as her father was, and she knew it. What was it about her that she seemed surrounded by overprotective males? Did she seem so innocent? She didn’t feel innocent. She felt frustrated and on edge and purely pissed that the only emotion she seemed to be able to inspire in Ian was his blasted protectiveness.
She ignored the silent offer of the whisky. It wasn’t the drink she wanted. She turned and headed for the closed double doors, intent on perhaps trying a different venue to tempt her prey. There had to be a way. As she took her first step, the doors were flung open with a controlled, subtle display of power and anger. They didn’t bounce against the wall, but the crack of wood meeting wood echoed around the room.
And there was Ian.
She drew in a deep breath, fighting to ignore the gut punch of arousal that suddenly clenched the muscles of her belly and left her fighting for breath. She could feel tiny, invisible fingers of sensation chasing over her flesh, tightening on her breasts until they became swollen, her nipples tight and hot.
He wasn’t exactly handsome, not as Cole was. He looked like he would be more comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt than the silk slacks and white Egyptian cotton shirt he wore. His long, dark brown hair fell below his shirt collar, tied back at the nape of his neck, giving him a reckless, dangerous appearance right off.
His blue eyes were narrowed, glittering angrily behind those generously lashed eyelids. She felt her pussy convulse, her cream immediately preparing her for him. Her clit became engorged, throbbing heatedly as she caught his gaze and saw, for the briefest moment, a wild, burning surge of arousal.
This what she wanted. This was the Ian she fantasized about. Now, what the hell was she supposed to do?
2
Instantly. In a second, Ian’s dick was steel-hard and throbbing with a lust he had never imagined possible. He could feel hunger pulsing in every pore of his skin, his body tightening, his mouth watering for the taste of her.
Masses of long, dark hair flowing nearly to her hips, framing a delicate, aristocratic face, wide dark eyes, high cheekbones, lips that trembled. She didn’t wear so much as a speck of makeup, but he’d be damned if she needed it. The fresh, natural innocence that glowed beneath her flesh gave her an ethereal, sensual beauty that had his loins tied in so many knots he wondered how he was breathing.
And there she stood, in the middle of his club, her nipples poking against the white fabric of her snug top, her dark brown eyes partially covered by lowered lids but shining, as though some inner light brightened the beautiful orbs. Surrounding her were nearly a dozen of the most dominant men to possess membership in the club. Not counting the married Cole.
Khalid, the half-Saudi illegitimate son of a sheik watched her from a table nearby. His black eyes were naked with lust, his expression curious, as the sexual tension seemed to shoot sky-high within the room. Fueled by the center of attention, the delicate little morsel dressed like a dream, and obviously, heatedly, unashamedly aroused.
She was what they all dreamed of. Unabashedly aware of her surroundings and the men watching her, aroused, eager to be touched. And yes she was eager. It glittered in her eyes, just as the pebble-hard tips of her breasts proclaimed it. She would give to him. She would scream for him and beg for more. She would fight him when he needed it, give in eagerly when he hungered for it.
She would destroy him.
Ian forced himself to pull the fragmented remains of his anger around him. Nothing was going to ease the hard-on pounding between his thighs, but maybe, if he was very, very lucky, he could control a situation that threatened his sanity.
“You were told this area of the house was off-limits.” His voice was rough, the guttural tone surprising him.
He watched as her cheeks flushed before his gaze flickered down to watch her abdomen convulse.
“I’m told a lot of things that I ignore, Ian.” Composed, husky, filled with hunger. He heard it all in her voice and it made him impossibly harder. There was no anger in her, only a bit of humor, a lot of arousal.
Son of a bitch. He was going to explode if he wasn’t careful. The rueful suggestiveness in her voice had every man in the room shifting in his chair, obviously as hard as he was. How long had it been since he had seen such natural sensuality? Such supreme confidence in a woman and her effect on the male sex?
He forced himself to move, to walk to her, to keep from throwing her across a table just to see if she was wearing panties under that tiny skirt. He had a feeling she wasn’t. Did she shave or wax? he wondered. If she were his, she would be bare, pierced, screaming as his dick stretched her wide.
He gritted his teeth, forcing back the thoughts. Dane would fucking kill him. And rightly so. There was little enough innocence left in the world, he would be damned if he would be the cause of so much as a single virgin losing hers. And she was a virgin. Innocence shrouded her, glowed from inside her despite her sensuality. There was no possibility that she was anything less.
“You don’t ignore the rules here, Courtney.” Touching her was going to be hell. “They’re here for a reason. Get back to the main part of the house. Now.”
Her brows snapped into a frown as the flush on her cheeks deepened.
“Do I look like a child to you?” She waved her hand down her upper body as she cocked a hip and faced him in challenge. “Excuse me, Ian, but I haven’t been a child for quite a while, and I don’t appreciate being spoken to as though I were one.”
His hands itched. They fucking itched to feel the soft, sweet flesh of her well-rounded ass burning beneath them. Damn her, he had never, ever wanted to possess anything as desperately as he wanted to possess Courtney now.
“You know what this club is, Courtney.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fighting to instill derision, censure in his voice. “How would your father feel if he saw you here?”
“How many times has he visited?” She smiled knowingly. “I know my parent’s lifestyle, Ian. Just as I know my father is indeed a member of your very elite establishment. As I have already explained to you, I am not a child.”
“You are not a member of this club,” he snapped then. “Members only, Courtney, for a reason. Now get your ass out of here.”
“So, how does one go about receiving membership?” She seemed to ignore the harshness of his voice. Even her eyes hadn’t dimmed, nor sparkled with pain or anger. As though the cruel words hadn’t even registered. “I will assume some of your women are allowed in here?”
“Our women.” He smiled tightly. “You do not belong to any man here. You are exempt.”
Her eyes narrowed, though the smile that tipped her lips was almost frightening. Knowing. As old and as knowledgeable as Eve herself. She licked her lips slowly, her gaze flickering around the room.
“Then I need a patron of sorts?” she asked softly. “I think that could be arranged.”
Like hell.
Touching her was the worst mistake possible, but every damned man in the room was ready to stand up and offer their services. His gaze hardened as he followed her look, warning them all. It didn’t sit well with any of them.