Even as my stomach knots, I can’t help comparing him and his brother. Their coloring is similar, a faint tan from the sun under dirty-blond hair. The same magnetic blue eyes. But where Ash’s friendly, Harrison is cold. Cut from marble.
“Brother,” Ash greets him as he arrives. “You’re the only person in a suit at this hour.” He nods to the rest of the room, where every other man has long since stripped his jacket off.
“I wear one because it’s my club,” Harrison replies.
I take a drink. “There are other options to hide the stick up your ass besides Hugo Boss.”
Ash cackles in delight, a reaction that has Harrison’s nostrils flaring with irritation.
“It’s Brioni.”
Ash smirks. “I was telling our little queen how exceptional she was tonight.”
“When my club is full, I’ll praise her,” Harrison states.
Ash turns back to greet a friend, leaving me and Harrison at the bar.
“Unfortunately, this was a one-night-only performance.” I shift off the stool. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Not half as much as you did.” He blocks my path. “I saw the way you lose yourself up there. In my club, which you seem intent on despising.”
Anyone in the crowd could tell I was having a good time. But the way this man watched me, the way he’s watching me now, feels as if he sees under my clothes.
Under my skin.
My body tingles, from his closeness and the intimacy of his words.
“It’s a persona. Not me.”
“You can’t hide how it makes you feel. You’ve had orgasms less satisfying than what you experienced tonight.”
The thrumming in my stomach streaks lower, between my thighs.
Laughter goes up from across the room, but I can’t look away from Harrison King.
“You know nothing about my orgasms.”
His gaze drags down me, and I will my body not to respond. I’m hot, and I pull the hair over one shoulder to leave the other bare. He follows the movement, attention lingering on my exposed skin and heating it like a filthy kiss.
“You told Leni this afternoon that you hated me no matter how pretty I was or how big my cock is. Which means you’ve considered both. That’s why you’re angry,” he continues, leaning in to brush his lips across my ear in a way that sends shivers up my spine. “You know you should hate me, but the thought of me gets you off.”
