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"No, Teagan. I don't dance."

"What if I go find someone else to dance with?"

"Don't fuck with me," he says. "You know what will happen. How about I take you into the bathroom and fuck that bratty mouth of yours?"

"Do it for me then," I plead. "Because I like it, and I'll miss it. And we're playing normal, so why not? Luca and Riv always danced with me."

"I've already done a lot of things for you that I shouldn't have."

"Fine." I swing a leg over his body so that I'm straddling him in the booth, facing him, and then lean in, kissing his lips. "Suit yourself."

I climb out of the booth and find Blakely drunk on the dance floor. She smiles and pulls me in closer. It's been so long since I've danced with my sister. Sebastian watches with his arm stretched across the back of the booth.

After a couple of songs, I feel someone press up against my backside.

"Hey there," he says. "What's wrong with your boyfriend over there? He doesn't want to dance with you?"

"No," I reply. "He doesn't."

"Well, then, he shouldn't mind if I do," he says.

"I mind." A hand closes around my wrist, pulling me in the other direction. I'm not sure how he moved that quickly, but Sebastian stands to my right, his jaw clenched tightly.

I shrug. "He minds. Sorry."

The guy walks away, deciding to try his luck with Lauren, and Sebastian narrows his eyes at me. "I told you what would happen."

"You were watching me," I say. "I didn't do anything, did I?" I grab him by his belt loop and pull him closer, swaying my hips. "You said I looked pretty. You can't blame them for wanting to dance with me, can you?"

"Yes."

"Why? They don't know the man watching me from across the room is a sadistic murderer." He grabs me by the hip, and I feel him growing hard against me. "You like that, though, don't you? Which one would you tear to shreds first? For me, it'd be the guy over there in the checkered shirt. He's handsy, and it's not an accident."

"How do you know that?" he growls.

"I'd rather not say."

"You."

"What?"

"The person I'd most like to tear to shreds in here is you."

"With your knife…" I pause, my hand closing over the hard ridge beneath his jeans. "Or your dick?"

"Either way," he says, "the answer is still you."

"Do it then," I challenge, stroking his cock between us.

"Which one?"

"I don't really care. You pick."

"How about both?" he asks, squeezing my wrist.

"Great. What are you waiting for?"

"I'm trying to decide which one I want to do first. You do look pretty when you're sleeping."