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She arched one finely sculpted eyebrow. A playful smile curled across her lips. “Are we talking about drinks or my sexual preference?”

That made me laugh. I loved a no-boundaries sense of humor. “Drinks. Definitely drinks.”

“Bourbon. Jim Beam, thanks...And, FYI, men.”

“Me too.” I tried not to smile, but my lips twitched and quivered.

She leaned toward me. That was better so we didn’t have to shout over the loud music. As she rested her hand on my arm, the scent of her jasmine-infused perfume filled my head. Hmm. Nice. Much better than musk. Her eyes narrowed into seductive slits and glinted in the flashing club lights. “And I like black.”

Okay. Cole was right. She certainly had some sass. Was it wrong to like her quirky banter, full of sexual innuendo? Probably. But some harmless fun never hurt anyone, right? “Are we talking about aged bourbon or preference in men?”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and ran her fingers down the line of buttons on my shirt. “The whiskey. But I like both to have a bit of age.”

“Age has never bothered me. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

“True.”

With our gazes locked, warm air stirred around us. The buzz from the booze made my head spin. Ignoring the partygoers, the music, and the jostle, I inched forward a fraction and lowered my voice. “And how do you like it?”

Looking up at me from beneath her thick eyelashes, she toyed with my collar. “Sex or my drink?”

I chuckled and shook my head. For some unknown reason, her touch sent weird, wicked electric pulses to every one of my nerve endings. My heart thudded to a strange beat. But my wits were intact. I caught her hands and lowered them to her side. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. “Your drink.”

Her eyes flashed with a sexiness that sent a jolt to my dick. No woman had ever been able to do that before.

She lifted her chin. “I like it many ways. But for my drink, straight will do. On ice.”

I drew my shoulders back and pinched my brows together. “And just so we’re straight, you know I’m not.”

“Yeah, I do.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you’re hot. And I was just messing around with you.”

My sanity warped as my gaze slid down toward her chest and back up again. She had a decent set of tits. There was nothing wrong with looking, right? But reality snapped back into place. Definitely not for me. “Do you always flirt with strangers?”

The color drained from her face. “Oh, shit. Did I go too far? It’s no excuse, but after a few drinks, I have no filter. Growing up with Cole and the guys, and hanging out with men all day, I’m used to wisecracks and dirty talk. I’m sorry if I offended you. It wouldn’t be the first time my mouth has gotten me into trouble.”

I glanced at her soft pink lips. Oh yeah. I can see why. Those lips could render a man useless. I swallowed hard and flicked the thought aside. What is wrong with me? I needed more alcohol. And quick.

Finally catching the bartender’s attention, I ordered and paid for our drinks. Double shots.

Thirsty partygoers aiming for the bar bumped into us. The dickhead behind Tia shoved her against my chest. I caught her arm to steady her on her feet. My fingers twitched, begging to feel her toned muscles. With all my strength, I tried to resist but failed. I swiped my thumb over her soft, silky flesh. Hmm. So firm. Smooth...shit. Stop. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She winced and hobbled. “Are you?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” But my head certainly wasn’t. Blood had rushed to places in my body that shouldn’t be affected by her. We needed to get out of this mosh pit of a bar queue. “Is your leg hurting?”

“Uh-huh.”

The bartender placed our drinks on the counter. I picked them up, turned to Tia, and pointed toward our table. “Let’s go sit down.”

But before she moved, she eased between my arms. She slid her hands up my chest and rested them on my shoulders. “We could’ve gotten table service.”

“I know, but I like mingling with common folk.” I was one. I wasn’t accustomed to privilege and the celebrity life The Flintlocks and other famous people led. Guess I had to get used to it. “You could’ve said something if you didn’t want to stay.”

Humor touched her smile. “Our conversation was too entertaining, and I liked being crushed against your body.”

“I can’t argue with that.” My dick still didn’t know what had happened. “Let’s go.”

As she walked toward our table, she limped. My stomach lurched. I’d been hurt before. The scars on my body hadn’t caused any permanent damage, but the ones on my heart and soul ran deep. I prayed Tia’s injuries weren’t as serious.