The traitor was gone before Sam could even draw breath to protest. She cursed under her breath, and glared at Dee’s retreating back, mentally planning ways to eviscerate the bloody woman.
She heard what sounded like a chuckle and swung around to glare at Ryan.
"Don't you dare laugh."
He wiped the grin off his face and held up both hands in surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it. But I like Dee."
"Of course, you do," Sam muttered, giving him the evil eye, hands crossed over her chest. "You're not the one she just abandoned to the wolves."
An eyebrow rose, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. At that moment, he looked positively wolfish - and delicious goosebumps filled her skin.
“I’m a wolf?” He took a step closer, his voice deep and definitely dangerous - too dangerous for her mental constitution.
Sam felt her heart slam against her ribs, the traitorous organ all too ready to forget she was supposed to be mad at him.
Useless organ.
She lifted her chin and forced herself to maintain eye contact, hoping like hell he couldn’t hear the rapid beats of her heart or notice the ticking pulse at the base of her throat, or the way her silly mouth moistened in readiness for contact with his.
“If it walks like one and talks like one,” she replied, pleased to hear her voice sound so cool. “Chances are, it’s a wolf.”
Amusement flickered in his expression, but then, his eyes did drop to her neck, more accurately, to the gently throbbing spot and a feral gleam lit those grey depths.
Oh, goddess.
"Mmm...maybe you’re right.” he murmured, taking another step, this one bringing his body to brush against hers, her breast, against his chest, nipples instantly hardening to tight buds.
Don’t be easy prey, Sameera.
She lifted a hand to his chest in a bid to stop him from coming closer and gulped as his heat threatened to engulf her entire body, concentrating on the area between her thighs. The rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers told Sam he was just as affected by her touch as she was.
His own hand closed over her wrist, a pained look crossing his face as though her touch burned him. Instead of removing her hand, he merely held it steady, just like he held her gaze, the rhythm of his heartbeat somehow falling in sync with the electro pulse that thumped through the club. Passion sizzled like a forcefield between them, and Sam felt like sinking into the dark promise his gaze offered.
Still, a small part of sanity intruded. The part that knew to allow herself to be swept up in the moment would only result in disaster. With that in mind, she broke eye contact, lowering her eyes to level with his neck, not that it helped much.
"You wanted to talk." She reminded him, letting her hand fall, and tried to ignore the wave of disappointment that ran through her at the loss of contact.
Ryan looked lost for a minute, as though he'd forgotten what he was here for. Then, his eyes cleared, and he nodded, then looked around.
“Yes, I -” A group of chattering ladies entered the narrow corridor, and he broke off with a grimace.
Sam let out a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the interruption, that quickly turned to alarm when a strong arm came round her waist and she was pulled back against Ryan.
“What are you doing?” Her attempt at sounding indignant came out as a breathless squeak instead and she flushed. Stupid, stupid brain.
“We’re in the way.” Ryan murmured in her ear, and she shivered as his breath fanned against her ear. Now, her own heartbeat thumped as fast as his, her erratic pulse speeding out of control.
She shut her eyes at the sensory overload but quickly opened them again as high pitched giggling filled her ears. The ladies squeezed past, casting Sam looks of blatant envy and long, lingering looks at Ryan, feminine appreciation clearly written on their faces.
“Sorry for being in the way, ladies,” Ryan said, going extra heavy on the charm. Sam looked up just in time to catch the lazy wink he sent their way. Her fingers clenched and a sinking feeling hit her stomach. He’d never sounded that charming to her before, but had no problems slathering it on for a bunch of women he’d never met?
Wait. Why should I even care?
Whatever the women replied passed over Sam’s head, as she was too engrossed in thinking up reasons for not caring about what this man did with other women. Reason number one being, it was none of her damn business and should never be in any case.
“We can’t talk here,” Ryan’s voice distracted her from reason number two. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with that same heated gaze as before. He let go of her waist, only to take her hand in his and turned, leading her back to the main floor.
“Wait. Where are we going?” Sam had to raise her voice as they entered the room, the music nearly drowning out all other sounds. Ryan was steering them past the tables, now mostly filled up, and towards the back end of the hall, where two heavy-set men stood guard over a set of opaque double doors.
“Upstairs,” Ryan yelled back, turning to give her an assuring smile. Her stupid heart skipped a beat, of course. “It’s much quieter there.”
Sam nodded, even though he’d already turned away. Then another thought surfaced and she tugged on his arm. “Dee won’t know where I am.”
He ushered her past the two men, who merely nodded and pulled open the door, to reveal a small hallway ending in a flight of stairs. As soon as the doors closed behind them, the noise faded to a dull thump, thump.
Sam tugged her hand free of his and repeated her statement in case he hadn’t heard the first time. “Dee will worry when she goes back there and we’re not there.”
A look of comprehension flitted across Ryan’s face. “She’s with her cell, right?”
“Yes,” Sam replied, idly rubbing her arms. This place was much cooler than the place they’d just left. “But, I don’t have mine.”
She’d left her phone charging at Dee’s place since she had a tendency to lose the damn thing if she held it on to it without the aid of a bag or a purse. Plus, Yash had scared the crap out of her with warnings about keeping it too close to her skin, so tucking it into her cleavage was out.
Ryan fished his phone out his pants pocket, unlocked it and handed it over. “Here, text her and let her know to come this way.”
The device was still warm from being near his body. Sam took it, the warmth seeping into her fingers. The rustle of leather caught her attention, and she watched him shrug off his jacket, and he moved behind her to drape it over her bare shoulders. Warmth flooded her entire being at the gesture, and she looked up at him, surprised.
His mouth quirked at her expression. “Even wolves know how to act human now and then.” He pointed at the phone. “Text your friend, while I tell the guys at the door to let her in when she comes.”
He turned to walk away, but Sam called out after him.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop through your stuff?” she asked, eyebrows raised in query. “I’ll bet there are tons of dirty, sexy pics you don’t want me to see.”
Her question seemed to greatly amuse him, setting off a peal of laughter. “Princess, that’s one bet you have no chance of winning.”
“Which is it? You don’t have dirty pics you jack off to, or you’re not afraid I’ll judge you even if there are.”
Still chuckling, he moved closer, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Both.” He whispered, the sound going straight between her legs. “Plus, I don’t need dirty pictures to get me off, not when I can touch, taste and enjoy the real thing.”
He was gone before her befuddled brain could think of a suitable reply.
With fingers that trembled, she typed out a text and entered in Dee’s number from memory. That done, she held onto the phone, resisting the temptation to snoop. Ryan seemed to take his time coming back, and she suspected it was a deliberate move to give her enough time to snoop. Well, she wasn't that interested in his life.
Nope. Not one bit.
Liar.
He returned, quirking an eyebrow in a silent query but Sam merely smirked and handed the phone back.
"Thanks for letting me use it," she told him, "And for the jacket."
He said nothing, just took it and slipped it back in the pocket, then reached for her hand once more. "Come on."
Sam followed, upstairs, and onto a glass-enclosed catwalk. She glanced down at the roiling mass of bodies on the floor below, moving in rhythm to the electronica music being spun by a Deejay in the corner. Feeling queasy from the height, she averted her eyes and focused instead, on the back of the man walking in front of her. Without his jacket, she could now appreciate how good he looked even from behind. Unbidden, her wandering eyes strayed lower, to dwell on his butt.
It was a nice butt, she surmised, firm and perfectly sculpted, especially covered in those jeans. Her fingers itched to touch, but she tightened her grip on the lapels of his jacket instead and roundly scolded herself for having lascivious thoughts.
“Are you checking out my ass?” The amusement in his tone made Sam’s head shoot up, and a deep flush suffused her skin as to find that he’d stopped moving and was now staring at her with a smug grin.
Kill me now, please.
“No, I wasn’t!” the protest sounded weak, even to her ears and she inwardly cringed. “I was looking down at the dancefloor.”
Way to go Sameera. Now, he probably thinks you’re a liar and a perv.
Judging by his smirk, Ryan didn’t believe her either.
“Sure, you were.” He chuckled and pushed against a mirrored wall, and when it swung open, Sam realized there was a room behind it. “When are you going to admit you enjoy looking, Princess?”
When hell freezes over. She retorted silently.
Aloud, she merely sniffed and stalked past him, held high in some semblance of dignity. His chuckle followed her into the room, and he shut the door, drowning out the sounds of the party.
Sam glanced around the room, lit up in a reddish glow by colored lights embedded in the ceiling. It was a lavishly decorated room, furnished with a private bar, a large screen TV at one end, a white couch and chair clustered around a glass coffee table. Red silk curtains draped over the floor to ceiling glass windows and the floors were made of the same, so they had an unobstructed view of the floor below. The temperature was much warmer here, and she shrugged off Ryan's jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.
Ryan crossed to the bar and picked up a half-filled decanter. "Drink?"
She thought back to the five glasses she'd already consumed and shook her head in the negative. Wits were definitely going to be needed for the next few minutes else she was in danger of giving in to her lustful desires.