"We will." I stroke his hair with my hand. "It's only going to get better from here."
Preview of Troublemaker
Crew
There are certain luxuries afforded a man when he owns a club in Manhattan. He can drink the best scotch in the world and expense that shit. He can pick a different woman every night of the week and he can sit on his ass and watch one of his best friends get hit on by some schmuck in a suit that's two sizes too big or he can do something about it.
I've had my fill of scotch tonight and the woman I was with last night is waiting for me back at her place. I can't leave my club, Veil East, yet. That's because, Adley York, one of my closest friends is about to go home with a professional baseball player with a reputation for hitting it out of the park.
It shouldn't matter to me if another man is stellar in bed. I don't compare myself to anyone. I've never had a complaint in all the years I've been active on the Manhattan social scene. I've fucked more women than Trey Hale, but by the look of what's happening on the dance floor, he's about to take Adley home to screw her.
That is not happening on my watch.
I can't have her because there are women that you friend and women that you fuck. Adley falls squarely in the first category although my traitorous cock wants her in the second. It can't happen. If I take that petite blond to bed, I'll lose her and the hole that would leave in my life is something I don't have the fucking emotional maturity to deal with.
"Adley," I call out her name over the booming beat that radiates off the walls. Why the hell did I have a state of the art sound system installed in this place? "Hey, Ad."
By the grace of God, she notices me pointing at her. She tosses me a wave and a wiggle of her ass before she grabs hold of the star pitcher's shoulders. I swear to fuck if she climbs up on that right now, I'll haul her off the floor over my shoulder.
I motion for her to come toward me and she flips me the bird.
I slam my now empty tumbler on the bar and stalk toward her.
"I need to talk to you." I stand next to her. "It's important, Adley."
"It can wait, Crew." Her pretty face flushes. "I'm a little busy right now."
She's a little drunk right now. I see it in her eyes and her hips. She's aching for some and if anyone is going to give it to her, it'll be me.
No. I fucking can't. Those perfect tits and that curvy ass are off-limits.
"I'm going to drop you off at your apartment." I take a quick look around. The club is running smoothly tonight. We're at full capacity. I don't need to be here to benefit from this. "Grab your stuff and let's go."
"Why would l do that?" Her eyes rake my six-foot –three, two-hundred-pound frame. "You're not as fun as Trey is."
Trey has nothing on me. I'm taller, richer, and a hell of a lot better looking than he is. I own a mirror. Dark hair, green eyes and a smile that has never failed me to date are what I see every morning.
"You've had too much to drink, Ad."
"Maybe you haven't had enough." She pokes her finger into my chest. "You work out."
Like a madman, every morning at five a.m. before the city wakes up. "We're leaving."
"What if I want to go with him?"
"Pick another night to make that happen." I direct that statement to Hale. "She's not going anywhere with you tonight."
"Who are you? Her husband?"
Adley laughs so hard she bends over revealing a perfect bird's eye view of the top of her round breasts. I swear to all things sacred, I'll look away, but I don't.
"I'm her friend. I own the club." I push a hand at him. "Crew Benton."
"You're Benton?" He steps closer and studies my face, his hand eagerly shaking mine. "Your reputation precedes you, man."
I have no idea what the fuck that means, so I steer him to a place I'll know he'll go. "Your drinks are on the house for the rest of the night. Tell Penny at the bar, Crew's taking the tab."
"No shit?"
"No shit," I repeat back. "It's a limited time offer so..."
"Understood." He doesn't give Adley another look before he heads for the bar.
"That was a cock-block, a totally intentional cock-block." She frowns. "You ruined my night. Now, what am I supposed to do?"
I eye her up. Small black dress, hair so messed up that she looks like she just fucked in the back of a beat-up pickup truck and a mouth that was made for sin. "Come to my place, Adley. I want you to come home with me."
Coming soon
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deborah Bladon has never read a romance hero she didn't like. Her love for romance novels began when she was old enough to board the bus, library card in hand to check out the newest Harlequin paperbacks. She's a Canadian by heart, and by passport, but you can often spot her in New York City sipping a latte and looking for inspiration for her next story. Manhattan is definitely her second home.
She cherishes her family and believes that each day is a gift for writing, for reading, and for loving.
TENSE - Volume Two (The TENSE Duet Book 2) Page 14
