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Chapter Three

JOSHUA

Skyla’s wavy hair is still the color of milk chocolate, brushing against her collarbones. It looks great on her, but I’m sure it would look even better wrapped around my hand while I’m giving her back shots.

Smirking, I shove through the crowd, fingers grazing her hip and spinning her around to face me. “Marry me.”

She stops in her tracks, her easy smile falling and those bottle-green eyes turning as sharp as freshly broken glass. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

My gaze drops to the deep plunge of the neckline. It falls nearly to her belly button, showing off her sun-kissed skin.

When I meet her eyes again, she looks seconds away from throttling me.

I chuckle, fingers pressing deeper into her hip. “Marry me.”

“Oh, so you are fucking insane. Good to know. I was worried that someone had spiked my drink.” She smacks my hand away, eyes narrowing and red-painted lips morphing into a deeper frown. “Keep your hands off me.”

“Or what? You’re going to send your brothers after me?” I keep my tone teasing as I hold up my palms and keep them where she can see them. “I just want to talk about a little business proposal.”

She scoffs, her arms crossing over her chest but doing little to hide how much that dress reveals. “I doubt that, considering you were the one who gave my family the big, old middle finger!”

I shrug, leaning closer to her, my mouth hovering near her ear to be heard above the music.

Damn, she smells like heaven. I can’t help but wonder if she tastes just as delicious.

But this is business.

“I need a wife, and from what I hear, things haven’t been going well for your family since the Rinaldos made a reappearance. This is a way to fix both of our problems.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Not going to happen. You must have hit your head. Maybe you’re the one with the spiked drink.”

“Be reasonable.”

Her arched eyebrows climb. “Me? Be reasonable? You’re the one proposing to your brother’s ex-fiancée in a club.”

The corner of my mouth twitches as I lower my hands. “Come on, Skyla. You know it would piss him off. Wouldn’t that be fun for you?”

She glances at something just past my shoulder, and I turn, winking at Logan as he glares at us from the bar. He shoves off the stool and starts to storm through the crowd, but it shifts, blocking him from view for now.

It’s not going to last long.

My brother has always thought of Skyla as his property. Seeing us together is going to send him over the edge, and I don’t doubt the two of them are going to be arguing in the middle of the club within minutes.

Which means I only have a limited amount of time to get Skyla on my side.

She smirks as she looks up at me. “One dance. That’s all you get to convince me that this asinine idea of yours is going to be worth it for me.”

Grinning, I take her hand and spin her around, pulling her against my chest.

Her head is just below my chin, the scent of orange, vanilla, and tobacco wafting up to me. It smells like seduction.

Skyla grinds into me, her hips swaying as her round ass presses harder against me. She moves to the beat of the music with ease, like she’s been dancing in clubs her entire life.

This isn’t the same woman who was engaged to my brother.

I brush my lips over the shell of her ear, enjoying the way she seems to shiver from my touch.

“Here’s the deal. Your family would get large cocaine shipments. More than anyone else in the area is getting. I would slow down deliveries to everyone else, and your family would be able to take the cocaine monopoly on the East Coast again.”

She tips her head back, entire body arching. “And what would I have to do?”

“Pretend to be my wife. Make sure that Grady Granville believes it.”

She stiffens and spins around, her hands sliding up my chest, toying with the top two buttons of my shirt. “I’m sorry? You want me to risk fucking with Grady Granville? As in the man who brings the most cocaine to the U.S. a year?”

“Yes.” I dip down when I see Logan at the peripherals of my vision. “I need you to do this for me.”

“There are a thousand other women you could ask who would be more than happy to be paraded around on your arm.”

I loop my arm around her waist, dipping her low as the song turns to one more reminiscent of a tango.

She smirks as I pull her back up to me slowly, every inch of her body pressing against mine.

Logan stops beside us, clearing his throat. “I need to talk to you, Joshua.”

Skyla gives him a disdainful smile and runs her fingers through my hair, mussing it up and ignoring him completely. “I didn’t think an oaf like you would be able to move like that.”

I snort and skim my lips along her jaw, enjoying the way her pulse jumps at the touch. “Just think about it. If you agree to do this with me, you can see that look on his face every single day.”

Her fingers knot in my hair, holding me in place. “And reinstating the cocaine shipments, you’re serious about that? Pissing off Logan is good, but cocaine is better.”

Smirking, I nip her earlobe, drawing a soft moan from her that I don’t think either of us were expecting, and my body reacts instantly. “If I slid my fingers over your pussy right now, would you be soaking wet?”

A hard push sends me stumbling a few steps from her before I have the chance to find out the answer to my question.

Logan stands with balled fists. “I told you, we need to talk.”

I tuck my hands in my pockets, drawing myself up to my full height and towering over him. “Did you forget who’s running the show here, little brother?”

He puffs up, hands balling into tight fists. The glower he gives me could turn blood to ice if the color didn’t immediately drain from his face afterward.

Skyla shakes her head as one of her brothers materializes out of the dark.

He eyes her for a moment before throwing his arm around the pretty brunette at his side and disappearing.

Royce Lynde is not a person I want to get on the wrong side of, and rumor has it that his wife is just as vicious as him if she needs to be.

I don’t think any of them are as ruthless as the woman standing in front of me, though. The woman I’m begging to become my wife.

With her hands planted on her hips, Skyla rolls her eyes before turning back to me with a bright little smile. She holds her hand out, and I take it, letting her tow me deeper into the club.

Fog crawls across the floor from one of the machines stationed near the DJ booth.

Skyla moves us farther from the speakers, off to the corner near the hallway that leads to the washrooms.

She moves closer to me again, twisting and writhing against me.

I bite the line of her jaw, trying not to groan as my cock swells against the curve of her ass. “Where was this version of you when you were with my brother?”

The beat shifts, and she sinks to her heels before raising up, her body rolling against mine slowly, feeling like the worst kind of torture.

There’s a wicked smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she turns around and shrugs. “She was buried deep because I was supposed to be the perfect partner for a man who never valued me.”

“I always knew he was an idiot.” My hands skim up her waist, thumbs brushing against the nipples pebbling through the thin material of her dress.

Pink splotches shine bright against her cheeks when the lights rove over us again.

Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip. “You could probably say that. He didn’t like it when I went out with my friends. Thought it was a waste of my time when I could be with him.”

I lean in, one arm banding around her back and pulling her flush against me. “I like this version of you a lot more.”

The lines of where this is nothing more than a business conversation and me desperately wanting to fuck her start to get blurred.

Maybe it’s because it’s been months since I last slept with someone, or maybe it’s the way I know she’s the one person in the world who is never going to get attached that does it for me.

“Take me up on the deal.” I brush my lips over hers before dragging her bottom lip between my teeth.

Her little gasp has me aching to be buried in her.

“How much am I worth to you?”

“Mountains of cocaine.” I sink my hand into the soft tendrils of her hair, letting it flow between my fingers before using it to yank her head back. “Maybe endless orgasms if you’re a good little wife.”

She smirks, hand slipping between us and cupping my cock through my slacks.

Skyla squeezes tight.

Lust shines in her eyes as she looks up at me.

She’s playing right into the palm of my hand, and it looks like she’s aware of what’s happening here.

Hell, it looks like she’s as turned on by it as I am.

I press harder against her hand. “Pretend to be my wife. A few months at most. I just need Grady off my back without fucking up my deal.”

“And when the deal ends, does my family still get cocaine?” She squeezes me again before letting go, her hips swaying to the music again as she pushes onto her toes.

With an impish grin, she dips her head to my neck, flicking her tongue over my racing pulse.

Screw this conversation.

Taking her hand, I drag her through the crowd and to the washrooms. I cut past the people waiting, tugging Skyla in behind me and slamming the door shut.

The music is muffled in here. It still might cover the sounds of her moans as I slam into her, but I’m doubtful.

Skyla runs a hand through her hair, crossing one leg over the other as she leans back against the door. “And just what exactly do you think we’re going to be doing in here?”

“Probably make you scream my name.” I shrug as I stand inches from her, the tension between us making the room feel like it’s a thousand degrees.

Amusement shines in her eyes. “You can try.”

And with those three little words, the distance between us is gone.

My mouth slants over hers as her legs part.

She plants her hands on my shoulders to steady herself, but it’s not long before they’re slipping beneath my jacket and pushing it to the ground.