Page 172 of Dance of Defiance

My last nerve bends, tightens, and snaps like a twig inside me.

Somehow, I drag my eyes up to his. Val’s looking right at me, pure venom in his eyes as he watches Anna writhe on my lap. His mouth twists into a cold line, and I watch with a fury I can't even articulate as he wraps an arm around each of their waists, making them grin and lean into him.

“Can we get out of here already?” the guy murmurs loudly into Val’s ear.

Val just grins coldly, looking right at me.

When life gives you lemons…make lemonade.

The idea hits like a bad cold. But it sticks and burrows deeper, twisting into my alcohol-dulled brain.

I’m confident this is not what my mother meant by making lemonade. But right now, staring at the man I can’t get out of my fucking head, when it’s clear he’s about to go home withtwofucking people? Desperate times, as they say.

Desperate. Fucking. Times.

I drag my gaze back to Anna.

“You say you wanna do something crazy tonight?” I growl.

Her eyes light up. “Fuck yeah, baby.”

My jaw tenses. “What about a threesome.”

It’s the booze talking. I don’t want thisat all. I don’t wantherat all.

But I want him, even if it's merely being in the same room as him. Even if she has to be there, too. It’s partly that, and partly that Idon’twant him to go with those two.

I need to feel what I’ve gotten way too used to feeling with him: that spark, that heat, thatfirethat explodes in me when I’m with him. And yes, IknowI’m drunk and not thinking straight, and that this is a horrible idea. But all I can think about is looking into his eyes in that intimate way and feeling the feeling I’ve been missing since he left me, back in the alley.

…Even if it means this.

Anna’s face lights up. “Shit, youarebad, aren’t you?” She grins and bites her lip. “You want me to call one of my girlfriends?”

I slam back my drink, letting the alcohol burn though my system.

Numbing. Slowing. Covering.

“How about another guy,” I growl.

“Ooo,fuck,” she purrs. “You want to see me get double-stuffed?”

No.

“Yeah,” I mutter.

Anna’s grinning as she turns to survey the crowd. “Him?”

I make a face when she nods her chin at Nero.

“Fuck no,” I grunt. “And that’s his fuckingfiancée.” I nod at Milena.

“She could play, too?”

Jesus.

“Ooo, or him?” She points at Bane, her eyes glowing. “He'shot.”

Yes, and staring right at Dove.