CHAPTER SIXTEEN
*Lace*
The older man pays triple but insists I only have to dance for one song. That’s certainly no skin off my back. I like him, though, and would prefer to keep entertaining this guy for the rest of my shift, but the drug coursing through my system has turned me into a social butterfly… and horny as hell. If I get overly cozy with any one person, the nondiscriminatory temptation will be too strong to resist.
I whisper a sweet, breathy, “Thank you,” in his ear as the slow-tempo song fades into the next.
He pushes the hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Thanks for making me feel like a man again. Been a—”
A tight grip wraps around my wrist, and I’m jerked away from the man. My back slams against a firm body, and my heart nearly explodes as the arm pinning me locks over my bare chest. Instead of struggling, I scan the area for the nearest bouncer; they always have this sort of thing handled.
Except, this time, Mav is conveniently looking away, and the private dance doormen are both fingering through stacks of bills.
Inhaling deeply, my lungs fill with the heady mix of worn leather and a faint tease of exhaust fumes. My tight muscles loosen immediately, and I melt against my captor. The older man sits across from me, eyes wide, fingers clenched against the armrests.
“Leave,” Coty roars at my new friend. A finger darts out in my peripheral vision as he points toward the exit.
Pressing my lips together tight, I hold back the inappropriately-timed laughter. “Aww, leave the poor man alone. He was sweet.” I spin around in his arms and blink at his moon-like eyes, their brightness presently dulled by overcast clouds of anger. In about five seconds the infamous Coyote will howl. Four. “Fascinating, too! Did you know that fingerprints can be burned off? The tips of his fingers are so soft.” Three. Nipple grazing against the zipper of his breast pocket, I rub against him, aching from the friction.
Coty’s chin tucks and eyeballs pulse from straining. Two. He grips my jaw and his nostrils flare. One. “How. The. Fuck do you know how soft his fingers are? I’ll fucking kill him if he touched you.”
My lips quirk to the side, and he jostles my face, fingers biting even harder.
“Start a list, Coyote, and begin your vendettas tonight. It’ll take a lifetime for you to cap off every man who has touched me.”
The clouds in his gaze move to reveal a twinkle of starlight. He brings his lips close to mine. “Why do you always insist on reminding me?”
“Because I like it when you get mad.” I steal his free hand and direct it between my legs.
Coty groans, slams his mouth against mine, and slips a finger beneath the thin material. He pulls back and loosens my jaw, dragging his palm down the column of my neck while his eyes assess everything else. Like the fact that I am only in a g-string and not wearing what he bought me. “I warned you, my little siren, and I will collect before the night is through. Go change.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper against his mouth before spinning on my platforms and rushing off toward the back.