“Taking a breather in the mountains this week.” JP’s reply is terse, his jaw set like he’s chewing on stale food.
Derek leans in closer, his smirk creeping wider. “Did you manage to clean up your little mess from that night?”
JP’s hand involuntarily tightens around my waist. “It’s handled.”
Now my curiosity is piqued.
Nodding, Derek’s gaze slides to me, a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes. “Good to know. Wouldn’t want my lovely wife catching me on camera. And who might the enchanting Lucy be?”
“I’m just part of JP’s tech team,” I spit out, maybe a bit too quickly. There’s something about Derek that sets off warning bells in my head, a disconcerting familiarity. It’s as if I’ve seen him somewhere, crossed paths maybe.
“We should get moving,” JP interrupts gruffly, not waiting for Derek’s response.
Once we’re safely out of Derek’s earshot, I can’t contain my curiosity. “Who was that?”
JP chugs his champagne. “Just some Wall Street jackass.”
“Has he been in the Quinn & Wolfe offices before?” I ask.
JP’s gaze sharpens on me, curiously unsettling. “No. Why?”
“Uh, no reason.” I shrug, attempting nonchalance. There’s no reason for me to know the guy. To be fair, he looks like every other Wall Street banker-slicked-back hair, a Rolex worth more than my annual salary, pinstripe suit, gleaming shoes.
I just can’t help myself. “What was the mess you had to clean up, if you don’t mind me asking?”
JP’s face darkens. “Nothing. Business.”
Right. Message received then. No more discussion about that.
“Here’s Killian and Connor,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting over my shoulder.
I turn to see the Quinn brothers approaching us. I can’t handle the top three together. Did they see me dislodging my dress from my butt? They’re approaching from that direction. I’m worse than Libby at the comic convention.
They both look unfairly gorgeous. I’ve only talked to them at company events. Never when my nipples were trussed in silk though.
As if on cue, JP’s hand finds the small of my back, sending a ripple of goose bumps across my skin. “Killian, Connor. I believe you’re acquainted with Lucy from our tech division?”
“Hi!” I squeak.
Their dual gaze flicks back and forth, sizing me up and down, then darting to JP. A spark of something unreadable ignites in Killian’s eyes. “Hello, Lucy,” he drawls.
“We’re doing the hackathon for Tangra at my Bear Mountain villa this week. I thought I’d bring along one of the team to this.” JP sounds mildly defensive.
“Lucy.” Connor, the younger Quinn brother, flashes me a reassuring smile. “We met a few months back. I’m sorry to hear about your accident. How are you holding up?”
“Oh! Fine! Well, surviving, I guess.”
“I trust the company’s providing you all the necessary support. Should you face any issues, feel free to reach out to us.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “That’s really kind of you.”
Network, Lucy. This is your chance. Engage the big bosses with some sharp, insightful comments.
“I like your tuxes. You both look great.”
For fuck’s sake.
They chuckle.
Heat pricks my cheeks as I desperately try to retreat into the safety of my champagne flute.
“And you look beautiful.” Connor grins at me. “How’d he rope you into this then?”
Looking at the three imposing figures, I raise my eyebrow, letting a small smile creep onto my lips. “Has anyone ever managed to say no to you three?”
A smirk tugs at the corners of Connor’s mouth.
“Occasionally,” Killian says. “But JP’s a stubborn bastard, it’s easier to just give him what he wants.”
My eyes bulge. That’s what I’m afraid of.
After a few agonizing minutes of conversation, JP suggests we move on. I’ve never been so relieved. We stop by a few more groups of executives and investment bankers exchanging small talk.
By the time we break free, my feet are aching, my cheeks are sore from all the strained smiling, and my nipples have been rubbed raw from accidental silk friction. Sexy.
A slow, sultry jazz tune begins to waft from the speakers, luring couples onto the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” JP says in a low voice.
I vehemently shake my head. “God, no. I’ve got two left feet; remember how clumsy I was getting out of the car? Dancing is way worse.”
He steps closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Lucky for you, I’ll be taking the lead.”
He somehow manages to make that sound filthy.
A flurry of butterflies invades my stomach as he whispers into my ear, his warm breath fanning my skin. “Lucy, there’s nothing I want more tonight than to feel you in my arms.”
His tongue glides over his lips, like a wolf eyeing up a lamb chop, giving me a look that makes my downstairs clench.
Against my better judgment, I allow him to steer me onto the dance floor.
Lucy
My pulse races as JP possessively slides his hand into mine and leads me out, drawing the attention of onlookers.
He locks his intense gaze onto mine and pulls me close. He chuckles, his warm breath tickling my ear. “No need to look like you’re facing the firing squad, Lucy. We’re just dancing.”
I try to play it cool, laughing it off, but inside, it’s mayhem. Fight or flight. Or fuck.
Maybe all of the above.
My arms wrap around his neck, feeling his muscles tense underneath his shirt. God, that’s a whole lot of man. Warm hard masculine muscle. Hard in all the right places.
For a second, I forget about the pain-inflicting stilts I’ve strapped to my feet.
His hands trace a path up and down my back, the heat from his touch penetrating my dress. They finally settle on my hips, his fingers drawing intoxicating circles that send shivers down my spine.
Just a dance, my ass.
Try as I might to focus on the rhythm, our proximity makes it impossible. The press of his strong thighs against mine sends delicious tingles through me.
He lets out a deep, sedated sigh and smirks down at me, his gaze filled with heat.
This man knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I can feel it in the way his hands claim me, in the subtle pressure of his body against mine, teasing and tempting through our clothes.