Her lips turned up in a slight grin and her eyelids fluttered downward before she diverted her gaze away from him. With a seductive sway of her hips, she picked up a cocktail, took a long sip, and prepared for her next shot.
Trent was not sure what this strange feeling was or what it meant. This warm thrill ran through him every time he saw something he wanted and intended to have. Even if it took all the determination in him, he would have what he wanted. There was also some other temper running through him and as he looked at the men who threw appreciating glances at the vixen posing and bending over the pool table ready to strike, he pinpointed exactly what it was. He wanted to be the only man in Zaira’s life.
He didn’t just want her once or twice. He wanted Zaira for himself without limits, infinitely. Biting at his bottom inner lip, he willed himself to cool this possessive streak down—at least for now.
It took Zaira less than five minutes to clear the table, pick up the guy’s wallet, and collect all of his cash. This feat didn’t surprise Trent either—after all, he was the one who taught her to the play a mean pool game in the first place. He couldn’t help but to smile, feeling proud of her win.
The three women she apparently came with surrounded her, cheering her on once again. One of them had a round of shots on a tray and each woman took their turns indulging. Behind Trent, Nathan’s crew taunted him about losing all of his money to a woman.
Trent was beginning to feel like a spectator to an outside party he wasn’t invited to, but then Zaira lifted her gaze once more to meet his. He felt a little better knowing that she had, in fact, acknowledged that he was there. He couldn’t keep her eyes off her, not even if he tried to. Right now, it was virtually impossible. Her laughter, her voice, her body, and even her competitive nature drew him in.
So when Zaira turned, took a step in the opposite direction, and began to stumble, he couldn’t help but to intervene. When he caught up to the group of women they were still boasting about Zaira’s win. When she leaned against the wall in what looked like an attempt to gain her composure, her friends moved in to hold her steady.
“Ladies…” Trent moved in to help them hold Zaira upright. “I’ll take over from here.”
A blonde beauty turned around the looked him up and down. “Oooo,” she exclaimed. “We were just leaving, but do you mind helping us all out?”
The women giggled and whispered amongst themselves, and then another drew closer to him. “Yeah, we might just stay for a little while longer if you do.”
It seemed that they were either tipsy from their drinking game or halfway to drunk—or maybe just pretending to be. On any other day, Trent would have indulged them. But not on this day…
Trent’s gaze toggled back and forth between Zaira and her friends. “Who’s driving?”
“I am,” one of Zaira’s friends stepped forward with a set of keys. “You coming with us?”
“No, ma’am. Thanks for the offer, but I got my own ride,” Trent said. “Excuse me, ladies.” He turned toward Zaira who hadn’t said a thing. “I need a word with you.”
“What about?”
“About Svelte. Can we talk alone?”
Zaira looked at him apprehensively. For a moment, he thought he saw a hint of concern marking her face at the mention of her father’s company.
“Damn, Zaira. You told us you were single and looking. What gives?” one of Zaira’s drunk friends said from behind. “You said you hadn’t had dick in m—”
“—Pam…geez…” Zaira ran her fingers through her ponytail and bit at her bottom lip—something she always did when she was embarrassed. “Trisha, give me a minute. I’m going to that new joint with y’all, so don’t leave without me.”
“Are you alright?” Trent asked when her friends were out of earshot.
“Yeah.”
“But you’re drunk.”
“I only had one drink. I’m not that drunk. And if I was, then what…?” Zaira put her hands on her hips. “I came to party, eat, and drink. I’m not driving, I’m not causing problems, and I’m minding my own business. You’ve got issues with all that?”
“I do.” Trent moved in closer. “You can barely walk and are in no position to go bar hopping.”
“We’re going to one bar after this. That hardly constitutes hopping.”
“You’re already slizzard. If your friends hadn’t held you up, you would’ve been on your pretty little ass,” he said.
Perfectly groomed eyebrows arched downward. “Is your name Loyd Wright, by any chance?”
“Last time I checked my ID, it read Trent Byron Stone. What’s your father got to do with this?”
“He gave me my last orders at seventeen years old,” she retorted.
“You told me once that I was the closest thing you had to a brother. I’m just looking out for you,” he replied.
“There’s a difference between giving me orders and looking out for me.”
He breathed deeply, taking in her exotic scented perfume. “I’m a little confused. I thought you loved being on the receiving end.”
She shook her head. “What?”
Trent chuckled. “Do you like to give or receive?”
Zaira gasped and straightened her back against the wall. “You’re twisting my words around. Again. You’re good at that, aren’t you, Trent?”
Her face was so close to his and he whispered, “You know what else I’m good at? Detecting a lie. You’ve had more than one drink.”
“Look, you told me you wanted to talk about something. What is—”
Zaira swayed again and this time he pressed his body gently against hers to keep her upright. She pressed her palm against her forehead. “I guess that last shot did me in.” She chuckled nervously.
“How many did you have?”
“Three or four.”
“Quit while you’re ahead,” he said.
“Trisha is our designated driver tonight and they’re ready to go.”
“They’re ready to go to a bar and you will not be going with them. I take care of my own and those of my RR brothers. Your father qualifies and I’m responsible for making sure you get home safely.”
Zaira’s body grew lax against his. She pressed against his chest and held onto the front of his shirt for support. “Oh…”
“What in the world did you drink?” He lifted her chin to glance at her face.
“I drank too much of the Crown. Okay, I admit it. You happy now?”
“Zaira…”
She pursed her lips in defiance. “I haven’t enjoyed a night with my girls in forever. So, save it.”
“So, what’s it gonna be? Are you gonna willingly let me drive you home or are we going to cause a scene?”
She grabbed onto his forearm. “I need some water and then I’ll decide.”
“Fine. Here’s an empty seat.” He gestured toward a side chair near the wall. “Just stay right here and I’ll come back with water.”
“Mmhmm, just hurry,” she said, as she slumped down in the chair and pressed her palms to her face.
By the time Trent had grabbed some bottled water, found her friends and convinced them that he was sane, not a criminal, knew her parents, and would get her safely home, Zaira had leaned against the chair and had apparently passed out. He wasn’t amused at all, but at least this ensured her protests about calling it a night were kept to a minimum.
He scooped her up and headed toward the door to his ride. As soon as the fresh night air hit them, she came to.
“Trent?” she murmured against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Yeah…that’s me.”
“You smell good.” She breathed in deeply, eyes still closed. “You taking me home, right?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want me?”
Trent halted abruptly. He had to pause to look at her for a moment, to make sure that those words actually came from her mouth. She’d spoken the words, but he reminded himself that she was in
toxicated.
“Yes, I want you,” he replied.
“Perfect,” she whispered. “It’s time to break a record.”
He almost stumbled over a landscape rock as he crossed the huge front lawn to get to his ride. “What record?”
“I’m in no state to ride your bike.”
“I drove my car.” He didn’t miss the fact that she’d never answered his question. “What record?”
Zaira chuckled softly against his throat sending carnal sensations down his spine. “Just drive me home.” She lifted her face close to his and pressed smooth, chilly lips against his cheek. “I’ll tell you when we get there. After you…unwrap me. And take me…”
He swallowed dry air. A hard-on pulsed behind his zipper, but he walked with his vixen in his arms down the single row of cars lining the curb contemplating his options.
They reached his Porsche and he helped Zaira inside before jumping in on the driver’s side. No other words were spoken as she propped the seat back and succumbed to her fatigue. She looked so beautiful, even after consuming an undisclosed amount of liquor. But he wasn’t that type of man. He didn’t take advantage, especially not with someone he cared about. He wanted her—badly. But he wanted the real Zaira Wright, quick temper and all.
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OTHER BOOKS ABOUT THE RUGGED BROTHERS:
DRIVEN BY DESIRE
TAKEN BY TEMPTATION
SEDUCED BY SIN
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USA Today Bestselling Author Ambrielle Kirk pens tales of romance in various subgenres. Her favorites are contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and urban fantasy. As a child, she never really dreamed of being an author. It was a destined path that chose her. Now she writes with her readers in mind, but the characters, of course, dictate the outcome.
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Seduced by Sin
Copyright © Ambrielle Kirk March 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, incidents, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or person, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Seduced by Sin: Sean (Rugged Riders #3) Page 27
