Page 10 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)

T he party scene at the Basin was electric. Lights flashed overhead, the bass was boosted, and the floor vibrated under the writhing bodies.

Callah handed me a cocktail, her hazel eyes glassy from the drinks she’d already consumed.

The scotch from dinner, the two drinks during pregame, and the first cocktail I’d had here made the pizza in my stomach churn.

I discreetly rubbed my tummy. The motion pulled the shimmering material of my dress higher.

It was tight. It was short. Cut low—so low—on the top, that if the straps didn’t cinch around my upper arms, it would fall off.

But the vixen red color gave me the edge I needed.

There were still primer stains on my arms, despite the vigorous scrubbing in Kristy’s bathroom.

“Looking gooooddd, sllluuuttt!” Callah chinked her glass against mine.

Good lord.

It wasn’t even midnight.

“Hey! Where’s your stud muffin cousin?” Kevin bumped my elbow. “Haven’t seen him at the clubs in weeks. ”

A knot formed between my eyes. That was news.

“He’s ssooo cute,” Kennedy gushed, drunkenly swaggering over in her skyscraper heels.

I flapped my hand in a dismissive gesture. “Probably playing video games with his friends. Uncle Jon said he’s really gotten into a new PC game.”

It wasn’t like we went out together often. We weren’t sibling-level close.

“I have gggooottt to get online,” Kevin pouted.

“There are plenty of other guys here, Kevin,” I said with a reassuring smile.

Besides, I wasn’t sure my cousin was into men.

But if he was, that was an interesting development.

One I wouldn’t particularly mind. And of course, my parents and uncle would be thrilled either way.

So long as there was a wedding and another little heir produced for the media empire, it didn’t matter what kind of relationship my cousin was in.

Time to change the subject, Anna. I gave myself a hard shake and dismissed that trail of thought.

“Annaliese! Why aren’t we dancing?” Callah crooned.

“In a minute!” I shouted over the music, taking another sip of my drink to calm my nerves.

Kevin pouted but turned his attention to a nearby group of dancers.

That was when the atmosphere shifted.

The drink burned down my windpipe as I turned too fast, drawn to the magnetic pull. Leo stalked through the crowd like he ruled the scene—which, given his status, wealth, and connections, he did.

My body reacted before my brain could catch up. My nipples tightened painfully against the thin fabric of my dress, and my breath caught in a way that had nothing to do with the stuffy club air.

Damn me…I had it bad for that man.

Leo moved like a predator, all controlled power beneath that tailored black suit. His dark eyes scanned the room, commanding attention without saying a word. The crowd parted instinctively, like animals sensing a beast of prey in their midst.

He was the lion, come down to the watering hole to drink.

The only thing we could do was stand and watch.

“Holy shit,” Callah whispered, following my gaze. “Is that—”

My voice came out hoarse. “Yes.”

I took a desperate gulp of my cocktail, draining the glass.

His dark suit was impeccably tailored, clinging to broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin and the whisp of black hair that I knew stretched across his chest, down his cut abs, and curled lower .

My mouth went dry. The empty glass in my hand suddenly felt too heavy as heat pooled between my thighs, my body responding to his presence with embarrassing immediacy. I pressed my legs together, trying to fight the reaction.

Right now wasn’t the time to do something stupid like throwing myself at him.

The lion needed to come to me.

But the harder I clenched the muscles, the more the ache pulsed.

Kristy stepped out from our group to meet him. Elegant and graceful, she put herself in front of the beast.

A small gazelle, beckoning the monster to taste.

This will be good.

Leo’s black gaze took her in before shifting over her head. Those eyes, filled with a terrible warning, focused on me.

Kristy laid her hand on Leo’s arm, swaying to the music as she pressed herself against him.

“Dance with me,” she purred, loud enough that I could hear it despite the throbbing bass.

Leo’s eyes never left mine as he shrugged her off, the movement casual but unmistakable. Like brushing away a bothersome insect.

“Not tonight,” he said, his voice deep and final.

Kristy’s smile faltered. She tried again, fingers trailing up his sleeve. “Come on, just one—”

Leo stepped back, breaking contact completely. The dismissal was cold, efficient. “I said no.”

The hurt flashed across Kristy’s face before she masked it with a tight smile. She retreated to our group, her shoulders stiff with wounded pride.

“Bitch, move,” Callah whispered in my ear, nodding toward the unwanted prey.

I stayed stalk-still.

Leo was up to something. His presence here, his attention earlier, it was packed with a secret agenda.

So I did the only logical thing my alcohol-soaked brain could think of. I took Brady’s hand and led her onto the dance floor.

She squealed as I slid my hands over her arms. The soft brown skin broke in gooseflesh under my touch.

Brady’s eyes widened with surprise before darkening with mischief. She turned in my grip, her back pressing against my front as we began to move to the pulsing rhythm. The music thrummed through us like a shared heartbeat, our bodies swaying in perfect synchronicity.

I let my hands slide down to her hips, my fingertips digging into the silky material of her dress. My self-consciousness dissolved with each beat of the bass, each sip of alcohol burning through my veins. Brady reached back, threading her fingers through my hair as she ground against me.

“Damn, girl,” Brady laughed, her hands finding my waist. “Where’d this come from?”

I didn't answer, just laughed, the sound drowned by the music as I spun her to face me. Our bodies pressed together, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. I could feel the heat radiating between us, making a show of it, knowing—feeling—Leo’s eyes burning into my skin.

A man with the build of a football player stepped close and reached for Brady.

With a giggle, she let him pull her away.

I continued to dance, arms above my head, spirit soaring to the heavens.

Or at least to the towering ceiling.

The skin on the back of my neck pricked just before a pair of strong hands gripped my waist from behind, spinning me around with practiced ease. My breath caught in my throat as Leo’s dark eyes captured mine, his scent—expensive cologne and raw masculinity—enveloping me completely.

“My turn,” he growled, the words barely audible over the music, but I felt them vibrate through my body.

I could hardly believe my own eyes.

This was really happening.

Whatever madness possessed him, I was here for it.

The bass dropped, and so did my inhibitions. His large hands slid down to my hips, pulling me against the hard planes of his body. I could feel every inch of him through the thin fabric of my dress.

“What are you doing?” I managed to whisper, my voice breathy and unfamiliar to my own ears.

His lips brushed against my ear. “If you didn’t want me to dance with you, why did you beckon me over here?”

The possessive tone sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. I should have pushed him away, resisted his charm. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t real—not yet! He was up to something, and in my muddled, mushy brain, I couldn’t unravel the puzzle.

Instead of leaving, I leaned into him. My body recognized Leo’s touch instantly, responding with a violent shudder that traveled from my spine to my core.

His hands slid from my waist to my hips, guiding me against him in a slow, deliberate rhythm that contradicted the frantic pace of the music. One large palm splayed over my stomach.

I desperately wanted it to trail lower.

That was messed up.

We were in public, and I was ready to slip his hand under my skirt.

Leo spun me around, pressing my chest against his. The hard length in his pants dug into my belly, making my pussy weep with wanting.

A flash of lights sent my head spinning.

But his strong hands tightened around me, steadying me.

His eyes darkened to obsidian, pupils blown wide with desire. The crowd around us faded into a blur of nameless faces and pulsing lights. My heart hammered against my ribcage as his grip tightened.

“You shouldn’t have teased me like that,” Leo murmured, his voice a dangerous caress.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His laugh was low and cruel. “Liar.”

Leo’s hand slid up my back, fingers tangling in my hair as he tugged—not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to make my breath catch. My head tilted back involuntarily, exposing my throat to him. The predator had his prey exactly where he wanted her.

“Always lying, little one,” he growled. “I know one way to silence your viper’s tongue.”

He dipped his head, his breath hot against my skin. My eyelids fluttered as his free hand came up to capture my jaw, tilting my face upward. The grip was firm yet gentle, possessive in a way that made my knees weak. His touch burned against my skin, branding me.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” he murmured, his breath hot against my lips. “You make it so easy.”

I surrendered completely, closing my eyes.

The kiss never came.

Instead, a cold invaded my senses. The world tipped. My eyes snapped open as I stumbled forward. There was no longer a solid presence to lean on.

Leo was walking away.

I tried not to let it bother me. Refused to let the negative feelings take root in my chest. This wasn’t a huge setback. Leo came out to the club, after all. That was some kind of progress. Right? Clenching my fingers, I stepped over to the bar.

Don’t think about it. Don’t!

A shot was slid in my direction. I slung it back, not even tasting it in my haste to swallow. Fire crawled through my belly, mixing with the pizza grease. Just as I contemplated the wisdom of another, something caught my eye. A shadow moved in the corner. I looked but didn’t see a face.

“Great, now I’m seeing him ,” I muttered. The pest, the plague on my very existence, wasn’t actually here. Why would he be?

Someone could have texted him. He had lots of friends.

An eerie chill trickled down my spine. I looked again, searching for the Tormentor’s face in the crowd. But he was mercifully absent.

Good. Time to take another shot.