1
Charles
“Bloody hell, Amanda. Not here,”I bark to the annoying woman who has attached herself to my hip for the evening.
Can this night get any worse?
This woman is handsy. And not in a good way.
Typically, that would be more than welcome, but tonight, I’m not feeling her.
Pity.
It’s not that she isn’t insanely beautiful. She is.
Wavy brown hair hangs to the top of her small breasts, and her toned legs go on forever. Not an inch of her is soft. She’s all hard lines and muscle.
Definitely my type.
Although, I don’t have a definitive preference when it comes to the opposite sex.
“It’s Mandy,” she croons.
I cringe at the awful sound.
Mandyis too much, and I can tell she wouldn’t be up for any of my rules.
One night. No numbers exchanged. No repeats.
I made that mistake one too many times in London, and I have no plans to repeat it here in the States. This is my clean break. My do-over.
I’m too busy for relationships and wouldn’t be good at one, even if I wasn’t constantly working.
Which I am.
Mandy has practically growled at any woman who’s looked my way, which only furthers my suspicion that she’d be clingy if I gave in to her roaming hands and took her into the offered VIP room.
I’d spend the next month dodging her advances, and I have absolutely no time for that.
“Charles,” she whines in what could quite possibly be the most ear-piercing sound I’ve experienced in some time.
I glare over her head at my supposed friend. The man responsible for this setup. He promised me top-shelf drinks, a night of relaxation, and a beautiful woman who would be more than happy with one night of sex. Complete rubbish.
He failed to say that he only knew petulant models who drink the most expensive champagne on an empty stomach and practically piss all over their target of the night. Me being said target.
He chuckles into his fist at my glare, and I manage to refrain from pummeling him.
Paxton Ramsey is an arrogant son of a bitch, but a good man. His friend, Mathis, owns the club, which he takes full advantage of regularly. He has a reserved VIP room every Wednesday night to schmooze clients. This week, there was a cancellation, and I was the lucky recipient of a night out on Pax’s dime.
“Charles, you’re ignoring me.”
My eyes close as I attempt to rein in my growing irritation with the exasperating woman. When they open, I’m met with Mandy’s green eyes piercing into me with barely restrained anger.
Perhaps this one is more than a little clingy. I’m not into the whole fatal attraction foreplay vibe that Mandy is throwing my way.
“I need to use the little girl’s room,” she says, pursing her lips.
An audible breath rushes through my chest, and Pax hears it loud and clear, if his barely restrained laughter is any indication.