Sipping on my fourth glass of champagne, I watch as the party rages around me. Everyone laughs, dances—they’re having a hell of a time. Me, I’m soaking it in, perusing the crowd in search of who I’ll be balls-deep in later. Normally I’d have pussy lined up for the night, but I ended shit with Katrina, my flavor of the week, before I flew to Montana to have a sit down with Pike.

His latest fling threatened to lawyer up. Things usually never get that far. We usually throw enough zeroes at his conquests that they shut up, take the money, and disappear.

My brother raises his glass at me. He and Jaxson sit, surrounded by artificial women hanging all over them. It’s a pity. They managed to pick up some hot ass, but I can smell their desperation. That’s the problem with women. They don’t get that you don’t go to a bar to find Mr. Right. The only thing men who frequent clubs are interested in is being Mr. Right Now and Mr. Let Me Fuck You Tonight. That’s it. They aren’t looking to stick a ring on your finger. Maybe a cock ring on themselves if they think you’re into that kind of thing.

I’m not even going to warn them—Brodie and Jaxson. They should be smarter than this by now, but they’re thinking with their cocks, and you can’t reason with a man’s dick.

“Hold this. The future Mrs. Bass just walked in.” Maxwell shoves his flute into my chest.

I look to see who has captured his attention.

Standing near the edge of the dance floor I spot a woman wearing a red dress that hugs her curves so damn tight it should be against the law.

Damn. Wish I’d seen her first to lay claim on her.

The woman spins around as her hips sway. Her head tilts up in our direction and I freeze. It’s the woman I shared a cab with last night. We’re too far away for her to recognize me. I do, however, recognize those long legs I imagined wrapped around me and that tempting smirk on her face.

What the hell is she doing here alone?

There’s no way I’d leave her side if I went anywhere with her. For the night, anyway.

If she’s here with someone he’s a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve her. She belongs under me, in my bed, having so many orgasms she can’t see straight. My cock hardens just thinking about stripping her out of that fuck-me dress.

“Hold your own drink. She’s mine.” I grit through my teeth at him as champagne sloshes over the brim and down both our hands.

“I saw her first, bitch.”

I shoot him a glare that tells him to back the fuck off in a hurry. “I shared a cab with her from the airport last night. Sorry, man. I’ll owe you one.” I grin as he shakes his head and calls me a cock-block.

“Goddamn right I am.” I mutter the words under my breath as I make my way down the stairs. If he even talks to her, I’ll rip his arms off and beat him to death with them.

When I get close to her some clown in a cheap suit is about to hit on her. I jerk him backwards with a strong hand to his shoulder. “She’s taken. Go elsewhere.”

He holds up his hands with wide eyes. “I don’t want any trouble.” He melts back in to the crowd.

He got that fucking right.

Sliding my hand around her front, I tell her exactly where I’d like to see that dress. On. My. Floor.

She’s like a demon sent here to torture my dick. So fucking sexy and tempting. She got lucky I let her leave last night. But not this time. No, the universe has spoken.

Her body fits snug against mine. That tight little ass of hers presses against my cock and I have to bite back a groan.

She shocks the hell out of me when she agrees to join me in the VIP room. She can pretend all she wants, but I see the look in her eyes.

When I move my hand to the small of her back, her lips part, telling me my touch affects her. I can feel so many eyes throwing daggers into my back. She’s by far the hottest woman in the club.

Maxwell scowls at me as I lead her to our table.

I slide into the booth next to her, draping my arm over the back as the server pours more champagne.

Brooke brings the flute to her lips, smiling over the brim, and all I can think about is how good that red lipstick would look smeared around the head of my dick.

Fuck, I want to take her home right now, pin her to my bed, and bury myself in her for hours. Her eyes don’t break from mine as she swallows a long drink.

Her gaze is almost challenging. Daring me to make a move on her. I’m a player by nature, but maybe I’ve finally met my match.

Her cell phone rings breaking the tension between us. “I need to check this.”

“Go ahead.” I down the rest of my drink and wink at Maxwell as he gives me the evil eye. I slyly flip him off over her shoulder.

She stares at the screen and her face twists like she just swallowed a lemon. Her fingers move, typing out a message. I can tell by the pout she’s wearing whatever the message says it has upset her.

I place a hand on her knee, making sure to remember exactly how soft her legs are. “What’s wrong?”

She rolls her eyes and her mouth tugs into a weak smile. “My friend ditched me.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me. It’s fate.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t believe in fate. I believe in choices and consequences.”

I grin. “Jesus, you sound like a lawyer.”