“Scheisse.”

This was not how I was supposed to start my night. I was supposed to spend my night between the legs of that redhead I’d met at JJ and Jonas’s rehearsal dinner. What was her name again? Angel? Alice? Alexa? Some A-sounding name.

Honestly, all the American girl names tended to sound the same. All I knew was she had just the kind of tits I liked, and I knew just how to shut her up. That woman could talk. Apparently, some guy had stood her up at the reception and she’d been pretty pissed off about it. That’s when I moved in for the kill. The problem was I’d been looking at her from the back when I made my move. I just didn’t realize quite how much she would talk. Again, I knew how to fix that.

But instead, I was chasing this twat, as the Brit would say. And honestly, he was slipperier than you would think. Granted, it must be all that baby oil.

I saw him around the corner, headed toward the elevator bank. I forced my legs to crank harder. How was this my life? Instead of pussy, I was chasing after an oiled-up male stripper. Something was very wrong with this equation. I needed to reevaluate my life choices.

I was wearing the wrong shoes for this. Jonas had been going on and on about how I needed to upgrade my wardrobe. I liked clothes fine. But these Italian loafers he’d recommended pinched my feet. The slap, slap, slap, echoing sound reverberated in the hotel hallways. There was one thing to be said for JJ; she liked nice shit. She and Jonas were well-suited for each other. The hotel was cream of the crop with marble floors, which meant slipping and sliding as I ran, which meant I caught up to the elevator just as Slippery Stan scooted into the rapidly closing doors.

“Scheisse.”

I saw he was headed down. I didn’t slow my momentum, shoving my body through the fire door to the stairs. I took them two at a time and said, “Fuck it!” and jumped the whole railing to avoid a drunken couple sloppily making out in the stairwell.

This was supposed to be easy. Now I was fucking running around a Manhattan hotel in a pair of Brioni wing tips and a shirt that, let’s face it, was probably too tight for my muscles. But whatever, the girls had called, so we’d come to the rescue. And now I was chasing a stripper who’d stolen their wallets, IDs, cash, and phones. I could give a shit about the wallets. Hell, as a former thief myself, I had nothing but respect for those that needed to make the occasional lift or two. What I did have a problem with was him having their IDs on file, and their phones. The phones could be wiped remotely, but from what Mathias said, we didn’t need any preteen hacker getting ahold of them and trying to find out whose they were. None of that shit would end well.

I bounded down the eight flights of stairs and rounded the corner just in time to see Slippery Stan heading to the casino. Of course he would. In hot pursuit of him, I barely slowed down to check out the sexy blonde who winked at me as I ran by her.

I made a mental note, come back to that one, but at the moment, Stan was the problem. Up ahead, he made a sharp left toward the restaurant and the kitchen, and I followed suit. After several minutes of running through irritated diners and a harried kitchen staff, I finally caught up to him trying to hop on to a motorcycle in the back alley. I planted both hands on his shoulders, but they slid right off. “Son of a bitch.”

I had no choice, honestly, I really didn’t. So I hooked my hand into the back of his pants and yanked.

Of course, he went flying backward. He yelped and then groaned. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck is, you stole some things from some friends of mine. I would very much like them back.”

He tried to sit up, but I availed him of that notion immediately with a quick jab to the nose. Predictably, he howled.

“Fuck! Jesus, it was a simple lift. You don’t have to rough me up.”

I couldn’t pick the guy up by his shirt. And honestly, I preferred not to have any more skin to skin contact with him. Who knew where the hell he’d been? So instead, I planted my knee on his chest and leaned into it.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry.”

I held my hand out. “Phones, wallets.”

“Oh come on. Those four were in the casino flashing cash, tipping waiters all night. They could stand to lose a few hundred.”

I scowled down at him. “Wallets, phones,” I repeated.

He pulled the phones out of his pockets, and he inclined his head toward the stash bag he dropped by the bike. “Wallets are in there.”

I checked the phones briefly. Two were Android phones. Lucia had managed to retain her phone so there should be only one that was Blake Security issue, belonging to JJ. Mathias had imprinted a logo on the very bottom of the phone cases for quick identification in the unlikely scenario of something like this happening. Without taking too much pressure off the guy, I reached back for the bag he’d tossed and double checked to make sure that their IDs were in there. I shoved the phones in to join them. “You need a new gig. You’re not good at this one.”

“Fuck you. How was I supposed to know they had friends in the mob, or whatever the hell you guys are?”

“I’m telling you, this is not a good idea. You’re lucky you ended up with me, because I’m just going to let you go. If you’d been caught by the other one, who knows what he would have done to you. So you should count yourself lucky.”

“You’re letting me go?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been where you are. You need a better scheme though. This one doesn’t pay you enough. You should never have to run from a mark. You can give one up, or you can walk away even. But running away all oily and shirtless, it’s just sad.”

“Yeah what do you know about it?”

I eased up the pressure and then unfolded my legs from my crouch. “More than you do, because this was too close a call for a few hundred bucks. If you’re going to make a play, make a big play. But don’t use women. Go after the big dogs and know who your target is. If I see you around those two ever again, I’ll let their husbands deal with you. Or even better, the kid upstairs. He’s more vicious than the rest of us.” With the phones and wallets in hand, I headed back inside through the kitchens, up to the restaurant. I looked for the blonde I had seen by the entrance, but I didn’t find her again. Oh, that was too bad.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Didn’t he have a date with Amber? Yes. Yes I did. But there was no reason I couldn’t enjoy both. Besides, I got bored easily. There was no way someone like me was ever going to get tied down. There was one woman who’d interested me enough to make me think about it, and I’d fucked that up. She was long gone, and much safer for it. Freedom was better. Being single was better. No one got hurt by what I did. And no one got hurt by who I was. I knew better than to ever bring anyone into that shit again.

When I got back to the hotel room, Mathias was giving the girls the evil side-eye. The other two women were gone, so Matthias must have sent them home. When I walked in, he glanced over at me. “You got our guy?”

I shrugged. “Let’s just say he escaped. But I have the phones and the IDs, that’s what’s really important.”

He scowled at me. “You let him go?”

“Easy does it. I know wet work boys. You tend to like to slice and dice, and hide the bodies and shit, but there’s really no need for that all the time. The guy was just a pickpocket, a scammer, a con artist. I warned him against ever coming back. I told him I’d kill him and all that good jazz. And then I threatened to sic Noah and Jonas on him. He’s harmless.”

The kid didn’t look entirely appeased. But his frown decreased slightly. I turned my attention back to the girls. “Now, which one of you had the bright idea of hiring a stripper? And before you jump in, Lucia, trying to cover for JJ, I think all of us know exactly who would hire a stripper.”

JJ threw up her hands. “Oh my God. You guys always give me the bum end of the shaft.”

Lucia’s eyes went wide, and her mouth hung open as she glared at JJ. “That’s because you told me to.”

JJ shrugged. “That is beside the point. The point is we were both sitting here handcuffed. So that sort of just sucked. Besides,” she sighed. “Jonas is going to kill us.”

Lucia nodded. “I get the feeling that we’re going to be under house arrest for a very long time.”

I laughed. “Something tells me you two will find a way to get out of your current predicament. In the meantime, these belong to you.” I handed over the bag and crossed my arms. The truth was I didn’t know just how much trouble they’d be in. Both Noah and Jonas would likely flip out, more about their safety than the stripper thing. There’d be a lot of shouting and yelling, and then the two couples would likely just retire to their rooms. And there wasn’t enough sound insulation in place to drown out the moans.

I, for one, had zero intention of staying at the penthouse that night.