Page 7 of Bang

"Laughing."

I didn'twantto practice. I laughed when I was amused. I smiled when I was happy. And about the orgasms, well, let's just say it was better to fake it than to let Russell fumble around for any longer than was necessary.

It wasn't that I didn't love sex.I did, truly.It's just that my last couple of partners had been perfunctory at best, which probably explained why I was in the middle of a long, self-imposed dry spell.

Until I met someone who truly rocked my world, I figured it was better to wait.

As for Livia, she looked primed to get nakednowas she stared toward the club entrance. Like someone in a trance, she murmured, "You reallyshouldsee him."

Again, I turned to look.

"Don't!" Livia said for the second time. And then, in a lower voice, she added, "I mean, I don't want him to think we're talking about him or anything."

Reluctantly, I returned all of my attention to Livia. "But I thought he was coming over."

"He was," she said. "But a couple of hoochies jumped in the way." She made a sound of disgust. "Sluts."

I'd gone to high school with Livia. In her world,anygirl was a slut if they put the moves on someone she liked. From the look in her eyes now, she liked this new guy the way lions liked antelope.

With a little laugh, she said, "Boy, did he givethemthe brush-off." Her eyes were gleaming now. "Now he'sreallycoming over." As she spoke, she tossed another smile in his direction as if to say,"Come on in, the water's fine."

By now, I was dying of curiosity. "Can you at least describe him to me?"

"My pleasure," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Six-foot two, rocking hard body, thick dark hair, dark dangerous eyes."

I almost snickered. "Dangerous how?"

"Oh, he's seen things. I can tell." With another long, appreciative look in the guy's direction, she sighed, "And the way he's dressed, it's like his suit was custom-made."

I shook my head. "Wait, so he's wearing a business suit?"

This was Petoskey, Michigan, not some urban fashion center. As far as the club itself, it was nice for what it was – a popular hangout where locals and tourists could mix and mingle on Saturday nights.

It wasn't a suit-and-tie sort of place.

On the stage, a local band was jamming some tune that had hit the charts maybe three or four years ago. The place was packed with adults of all ages, some of them probably triple my own age of twenty-four.

It was late-September, and fall colors were approaching their peak, turning the green of Northern Michigan trees into a glorious display of yellow, orange and gold. People from all over the state and beyond had flocked northward like they always did, bringing with them enough money to keep the shops and restaurants open for another season.

In front of me, Livia practically purred, "I'll givehimsome business, alright." She cocked a hip and gave a toss of her long dark hair. With a flirty smile, she said, "Now shush. He's almost here."

Shushing was easy. By now, I hardly knew what to say. But sure enough, the guy finally strode into view and stopped directly beside us, just as Livia had predicted.

With a little gasp, I stared up at the guy. His hair was dark, and his eyes were too compelling for words. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either as he looked from me to Livia and back again.

I felt myself swallow. He was everything Livia had claimed and then some. But this wasn't the reason I was staring. It was because I actually knew the guy.

I didn't like him.

And he sure as heck didn't like me.

He was Mason Blastoviak – my least favorite billionaire.

And hey, the feeling was totally mutual, because I knew one thing for darned sure. I was his least favoritesomething. I just didn't know what.

Chapter 3

Cami