I giggle, and the man tenses up when I squeeze harder.
“Oh, kitten. I'd be awfully disappointed with what I can feel in my hands. Is that the problem, hmm? A grumpy, sad little life because of your pencil dick. Apologize.”
“Sorry, fuck. Get the fuck off me,” he mumbles.
I tut at him, freeing his package. Before he can run away, I pluck his drink from his hand, giving him a wink.
With Hazel and Breckin quiet in my ear, I can only assume they went straight to Donovan with my little show. Not a soul saw anything that happened. Everyone was too lost in alcohol, drugs, or the music.
The delicious burn from the man’s whiskey shoots straight through me. Static in my ear signals Hazel’s return. I eyeball the man staggering away; his pride wrapped tightly in my palm.
“Have fun tattling on me?” I snort, stealing a drink from another man’s grip.
“Fucking focus, Mal,” Donovan spits.
“Welcome to the meeting, little brother.”
“Brenner and Collins are by the bar.” Hazel cuts in.
I don’t bother with a response. It’s taking a lot not to pluck the fucking earpiece out and drop it into someone’s glass. I weave my way through the bodies, centering myself in the open area in my target's direct line of sight.
Starting slow, I sway, letting the rhythm of the music pulse through me. Finding my pace to the beat, dropping my body low. I move seductively until I feel eyes on me.
I let my gaze drift to the bar and am gratified to see both men’s attention on me. I close my eyes and continue dancing, not giving them the satisfaction of my undivided attention. After a few minutes, more static burns my ear. I fall out of my zone. Fuck, we should have better equipment. What the fuck is this static bullshit? I groan in annoyance before the voice sounds.
“Head’s up, Mal. Agent Liam Brenner has his sights set on you. He’s about to close in.” Hazel warns.
I’m about to storm out of this club and punch every one of these motherfuckers in the face. Their doubt is pissing me the fuck off.
A strong presence in front of me rips me from the daydream of blood flowing from all three of those cocksuckers. I open my eyes and meet an icy stare.
Brenner’s eyes lock on mine before traveling down my body. I keep swaying to the music, letting him get his fill.
My breath hitches when his aqua eyes snap back up, and he blesses me with a crooked smile, all perfect white teeth. Brenner Brenner’s deep brown hair is slicked back and shaved close on the sides. The bright blue of his eyes is a stark contrast to his naturally tanned skin.
Based on our research, he comes from Italian roots, which dominate most of his features. He stands well over six-feet tall; a firm chest fills out his form-fitting white shirt, topped off with a leather jacket, thick biceps strain the sleeves.
Christ, he’s fucking delicious. I am wet just thinking of all the ways I could ruin this man. A pity he isn’t the one I need to pursue. I’d have fun breaking him from the inside out.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says with a slow drawl.
“Well, hello there.”