Haze(15)

Since the episode in my office years ago, she's been discreet. I don’t trust her fully. I never will but I recognize her need to be in the public eye. Her brand is what motivates her to keep her own secrets, as well as mine, hidden.

"What's her name?" I ask, as I turn back to look at the brunette. I don't expect an answer grounded in truth. I don't care what her real name is. I'll call her whatever she wants me to tonight because when I walk out of this club, I know that the driving need I feel right now will be quieted. I also know that by the time I feel the urge again, I'll be in Italy on business, or Germany, or somewhere, anywhere, far away from here.

"It's…"

Sage's voice is drowned out. It's not the music, or the boisterous sound of the voices next to us that overtakes me. It's my breathing. It's my own labored breathing.

I still as my eyes wander from the woman Sage pointed out to another, across the floor from her. Although her back is turned to me, the attraction is instant and intense.

I spot her legs first. They're not long, but they're toned. They disappear beneath a thin piece of black silk which only serves to cover the curves of a flawlessly shaped ass. The back of the halter dress she's wearing is non-existent revealing a smooth, delicately angled back.

As she turns slightly, the ponytail her hair is pulled into sways with the movement and the silver hoop earring in her left ear bounces against her neck. Even beneath the muted lighting above the dance floor there's no mistaking the outline of her full breasts beneath the fabric of the dress. She's supple, sensual and even though I've yet to see her face, she's undeniably, the most beautiful woman in the room.

"Gabriel." I feel Sage's hand on my shoulder. "Did you hear me? I said her name is Jovie."

"Not her." I stare at the woman in the short black dress. "I don't want Jovie. She's not the one."

"She is the one." Her voice is insistent. "I've spoken to her. We had a drink the other night. She's perfect."

"No. I found the one I want."

"Who?" Her tone is clipped and severe.

I feel my cock harden as the woman I can't take my eyes off of starts to move to the music. The fabric of her dress brushes against her ass tempting anyone within view. I see the blatant hungry glances of the men around her. I watch as they move closer, circling her like the untamed animals they are.

Not one of them is going to touch that body, taste it, or satisfy it the way I will.

I motion towards one of the club managers who are here to facilitate the needs of the people in this room. Their job is to go out and test the waters. They speak to the club patrons who have caught the eye of a private member. If the interest is mutual, they take them to a lounge, instruct them on protocol and handle all the necessary paperwork that ensures what happens here, stays here.

I adjust the buckle of my belt before my hand lightly grazes over the front of my pants. I'm so hard that there's a bite of pain. This is exactly what I need. She's what I need.

"Is there someone you'd like to meet?"

The older man who approaches me doesn't use my name even though we've lunched together within the realm of my business. "The one in the short black dress, silver heels, hoop earrings."

He glances past me towards the wall of glass, his hand rising in the air. "That one, sir?"

I turn back towards the dance floor and as my eyes hone in on her again, my hand fists. She's facing me directly now, her neck tilted slightly to the left as she talks to a blonde haired man I've seen back here, behind the shroud of glass. He's a regular and as she looks up into his eyes, my stomach recoils.

It's then that I see her stumble against him and as she glances towards where I'm standing, hidden behind the glass wall, there's no mistaking the glossy look in her blue eyes.

"Is that the one, sir? It's the blonde?"

"Get yourself another drink." I turn towards Sage. "I need a moment."

She nods absentmindedly as she walks off in the direction of the bar.

I level my eyes on the manager. "You have a problem."

He chuckles nervously. "I have a problem?"

"That woman is underage."

"That's impossible." He moves closer to the glass until his nose is hovering next to it. "We have a stringent policy regarding proper identification. It would have been checked at the door."

"It's possible," I hiss. "In fact, it's reality. That woman is twenty-years-old. She's also clearly intoxicated."

"I'm not sure how this happened." He pulls a smartphone from his pocket. "I'll have security remove her."

"You'll have a female manager quietly lead her out before she escorts her home."

"We don't have enough staff…"

"It's not a request." I glance back to where Isla is standing, her arms now around the neck of the man she's talking to. "Take care of it now or I'll call Julian to handle it."

The mention of the club's owner is enough to light a fire under the manager. As he walks away I turn back towards the dance floor. I bring the glass in my hand to my lips, take a heavy drink and curse under my breath as I wonder what the f*ck Isla Lane is doing in this club.