Page 17 of Brutal Sin
The guy grinned. “Get me a bourbon and dry, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear aword.”
Shay chuckled as she grabbed the requested liquor bottle. “See? Bag and gag is definitely the answer. But it’s not going to happen. This is a sex club, not a bonding retreat, and you pay good money to get in those doors. Make the most of it. Hit him up for a full round. What’s the worst he coulddo?”
Maybe Shay was right. Pamela’s decision should revolve around Bryan’s skills, not his attitude. “I’ll think aboutit.”
“Well, think quick.” Shay focused over Pamela’s shoulder. “Because the man of the moment has arrived.”
The pound of her irregular heartbeat echoed in her ears, the reaction bringing an unhealthy dose of confusion.
She swiveled on her stool and captured the man in her sights. His suit covered him like armor, strong and sure. His shirt was white and crisp, with a gleaming black tie hanging loose around his neck. He must be working, not playing. Otherwise, he’d be in boxers or briefs, as the Vault rules stated.
She grasped her glass, keeping her hands busy while her mind worked overtime. Asshole or not, he’d been blessed with physical appeal. The type that hadn’t lessened since learning more about his personality.
His expression wasn’t welcoming in the slightest. His eyes were harsh, his face covered in a light, bristly beard that always seemed impeccably trimmed. He had strong shoulders, a solid frame, and a powerful stride.
An emotionless vortex from head totoe.
A shuddering thrill worked through her without permission. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. Hell, she’d drink herself under the table in the hopes her sober goggles were adversely affected with a few shots, but the alcohol wouldn’thelp.
She was intrigued byhim.
Attracted, intrigued, and maybe a little curious, too.
“I might go and ask what his plans are.” She spoke aloud, hoping it formed some sort of commitment with the universe to stop her from backingout.
He continued toward one of the side rooms, his focus hitting her with a scowl.
She paused, caught halfway off herseat.
She waited for a sign. A spark. An acknowledgment of the monumental zing they’d shared last time she washere.
Nothing.
He glanced away without so much as a twitch to hislips.
“Umm.” She turned back to the bar. “That didn’t seem friendly.”
“That’s Brute. One hundred percent asshole, one hundred percent of the time. Doesn’t stop him from fucking like a Trojan.”
Damn it. Body parts reacted without warning—breasts, tummy, and lower. Deeper. When had she become a sucker for punishment?
She chanced another glance over her shoulder and focused on the darkness of the room he’d disappeared into. She didn’t want to give this brutal man any power over her, but the truth was, he already had it. He could give her things no other man seemed capableof.
“I assure you, he does know how to have fun. He’s just extremely picky about who he lets past his defenses.”
A loner.
Like her husband.
The familiarity softened her interest a little. Not enough. The past seemed to repeat itself, and like with her husband, she found herself unable to walkaway.
“Are you going to chicken out?” Shay’s voice was light, a bare whisper of subconscious thought through Pamela’s frazzledmind.
“No. It’s all good. I’ll go see what he’s up to. There’s no harm in asking, right?” She sucked hard on her straw, finishing her drink. “Wish meluck.”
“Go get ’em.”
Pamela gave a chuckle in farewell and slid from her stool, righting her favorite deep-pink corset as she padded in his direction. This situation would be different if he weren’t the only man standing after years of unreachable orgasms.
