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“The Marchettis and I are discussing business,” he replies. “Now, you answer my question.”

“Darcy and I came here to dance.” I rest my glass on the table.

He motions toward the space around us. “Dance for me then.”

I scoff. “Are you asking for a lap dance?”

“Are you offering one?”

“Uh,no.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

I turn to Emilio, holding out my hand. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Genesis?—”

“He knows who you are,” Julian says bitterly as Emilio shakes my hand. He shifts out of his suit jacket and rolls his sleeves up.

Emilio’s grip is loose, half-assed, as if he’s only doing it not to appear rude.

“If you don’t want to dance for me, let me take you home,” Julian offers.

“Hell no,” I say, stretching the word out. “Last time I got in a car with you, you tossed me out on the concrete like a discarded Crunchwrap Supreme wrapper.”

Swear to God, I hear a low chuckle from Emilio.

Anger prickles through me, and I harshly tap Emilio on the shoulder, feeling ballsier than I should.

“Do you mind letting me squeeze in here?” I ask him while my attention stays on Julian. “I need to have a little chitty-chat with your friend.”

Julian massages his temples, and Emilio slides out of the booth. He waits until I scoot toward Julian before sitting back down. Julian’s gaze burns into mine when I reach him, my thigh hitting his.

“What you did was rude,” I say, feeling like a broken record.

He cracks his neck. “Someone giving you a ride home isn’t rude.”

“Don’t act like you were some innocent Uber driver.” I shove my elbow into his side—a risky move—and turn to better face him. “You zip-freaking-tied and blindfolded me.”

“This conversation is growing boring.” He reaches across the table, slides my empty glass toward him, and collects an ice cube between his fingers. “That night, I simply treated you like the pain in the ass you were being.” He flicks the ice cube toward me, and it smacks me in the face before falling into my lap.

It’s cold against my bare thigh, and I pick it up, tossing it onto the floor.

“You took me home because you were too chickenshit.” I dip my finger into the glass and drag out my own ice cube. “A man like you tries to act all big and bad, but we both know you can’t please a woman.”

“You’re going to regret challenging me.” Julian chuckles as he lowers his hand between my legs.

I whimper as he guides my legs farther apart.

He’s hardly touched me, and I’ve never been more turned on in my life. I grip the edge of the table, tipping my hips up, awaiting his next move.

If he’s messing with me, I’m finding a gun and shooting him with it.

Or a knife.

Or a bottle to smash over his head.

Somethingthat’ll teach him a lesson.

I don’t think my sucker punch last time was punishment enough.