Page 19

Patrick

Hey Gabby, your mom tells me you are back from Vegas. I’d love to take you out on another date. I think we were both a little nervous, and I’d really like to try again. Call me. Patrick x

Not having the time to even consider his offer, I toss my phone in my bag and head into the studio. As soon as I walk in, Luna waves me over to where she sits, putting on her heels. I drop my bag and settle beside her. ‘Hey,” I say, a little breathless.

‘You look tired,” she says. “Long day?”

“Try long week.” I huff, taking my heels and knee pads out of my bag and taking off my tennis shoes.

“Well, make sure you get some rest because Saturday’s my birthday. You’re coming, right? We’re going to go to that new club, Havanas.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” I smile as I lace up my heels and slide the pads on.

“Yes, can’t wait. Come on, Kaz wants us up front in class.”

I take my spot in line with Luna, a few steps behind Kaz. When the R`n`B track begins playing my heart begins to thrum erratically. It’s the same track that played at the pool party in Vegas. I almost miss my cue, my mind too busy drifting back to our weekend there. The song stirs up memories of Brad's front pressed to back, a protective hand resting on my hip as we all gathered in the water listening to the celebrity DJ.

I spin on the balls of my feet, raising my arms above my head. The memory of holding the pull up bar, my legs wrapped around Brad's waist flickers through my mind, and how good it felt to have him between my legs. I twirl and his toned, tattooed chest, glistening with sweat, hits me. I try to ignore it, but when I squat down rotating my hips, an image of him beneath me as I grind down on him flickers through my mind, causing tingles to work their way up my spine at the thought. My steps falter slightly, but I recover quickly, ready to take three steps forward and repeat the sequence. Beads of sweat roll between my breasts and I suck in a greedy breath as I shake my head to clear the images and prepare to go again.

Holy crap, where did that come from and why did I like it so much?

Chapter Ten

Brad

Havana’s is buzzing; the music is so loud it vibrates beneath my feet. The flashing lights cast over the sea of bodies swaying to the music. This place wouldn’t be my usual vibe, but it’s where Chris, one of our investors at The Boardroom insisted we meet. With Jack a week away from his wedding, and Harry getting things in order before he leaves for London for the next six months, it was left to me to have this meeting. If you could call it that. It was a group of men talking business, smoking cigars, and drinking high end liquor. I’ve met Chris’s business associates, Elijah and Henry, and truthfully, I thought they were entitled pricks, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. They have money, and lots of it, and are very keen on helping us expand The Boardrooms, so, I play my part and entertain their shit talk and hang off their every word to seal the deal.

“So, Brad, Chris tells us you used to be in the military,” Elijah asks, puffing on his cigar and leaning forward, his round belly hanging over the waistband of his pants.

“That’s right.” I nod. “Twelve years of service.”

“Impressive. I bet you saw some things.”

“Sure did,” I mumble.

More than you could ever imagine

I suddenly feel the weight of the tags resting on my chest.

“So, what made you leave?” Henry, the younger one, asks.

Not wanting to divulge my life story to these men, I simply say, “It was time to leave. I served my country, and it was time to start a new venture.” They both nod, seemingly happy with my response. We all notice a group of women on the dance floor. My eyes instantly zone in on one. She has her back to me, her dark hair trailing down her back like silk. Leather pants cling to her round ass, an ass that no doubt was built in the gym. The way she moves her hips seductively to the beat of the music has me hooked. I can’t tear my eyes off her. I am thankful when her hair falls over one shoulder, and I am teased with a glimpse of her toned back. Something about the girl on the dance floor feels oddly familiar.

I decide I want to know who she is. I take a sip of my whiskey, savoring the bitter taste as I watch her move her body in a way that should be considered illegal.

A low whistle escapes Elijah’s mouth. “Damn, who’s the girl in the leather pants? I’d like to take her home.”

Chris lets out a low chuckle. “What do you think your wife would say about that?”

“She’ll be in bed with a headache. She’ll never know.” He grins in a way that makes me want to knock his teeth out.

What a prick.

My focus goes back to the dancefloor. The woman turns, and my eyes bug out when the familiar doll-like features ofGabriella Monroe come into view, and suddenly it feels difficult to swallow.

Fuck, I’m in trouble here.

“Fuck me, she’s even better from the front.” Elijah groans.