The Allure of Dean Harper (The Allure #2)(40)

“Thanks Hunter,” I said with a flat tone. “I’m going to head back out there now.”

He frowned and reached into his shirt pocket.

“Wait. Wait. Lily, here. Take this.”

He shoved a piece of paper into my hand before I could flinch back.

“It’s the room I rented for us. Nobody has to know. Come find me later, baby,” he said, trying his best to smirk. At best, it looked like some sort of grimace. At worst, it looked like his lips were falling off.

I shook my head and glanced down at the piece of scrap paper in my hand. On one side of it, there was a logo for Ivy & Wine—a restaurant name I didn’t recognize—but when I turned it over, I saw the numbers he’d scrawled. It looked like two 8s and a 4. Or it maybe a 6…oh, Hunter.

I tossed the paper into the trash and set off to find Nick. Or was it Rick? Shit. He was a food critic from San Francisco and I’d been putting up with his terrible breath for the last two hours in the hopes that he would feature one of Dean’s restaurants on his website.

I searched through the club to no avail. Nick-Rick was gone and I needed another drink if I was going to get through the rest of the meet and greet. I’d already handed Dean more than enough names, but I wanted to go above and beyond anything he could imagine. I needed him to know how valuable I was.

The lights in the club changed colors every few seconds, flickering in and out in a rainbow effect. Blue, green, yellow, red. Each moment that passed painted my skin a different hue.

What was Dean doing?

Who was he talking to?

I wedged against the bar and was waiting for the bartender’s attention when I felt his hand on my hip. Not Nick-Rick. Dean.

His hand gripped my waist, branding me through my dress. I glanced down and his hand skimmed an inch lower. I hated how happy I was that he’d come back. He wasn’t done. I could push and push and push, and he would just pull and pull and pull me back.

“You’ve proved your point,” he whispered in my ear.

“Excuse me?” I asked, barely getting the words out without a stutter.

“You’re punishing me,” he said, his hand biting into my hip. “Enough.”

The bartender slapped his towel down onto the bar and met my eye.

“You gonna order or what?” he asked.

“She’ll have a lime juice margarita.”

“Wrong. I want a dirty martini.”

The bartender shook his head, annoyed with the two of us. He bent to retrieve a glass and I was left alone with Dean once again.

“Let go of me,” I huffed over my shoulder. “Nick will be back soon.”

“Fuck Nick.”

I inhaled a sharp breath, registering his anger. He was a nine on the Richter scale and I knew if I pushed him any further, my world would shake because of it.

“You and I are nothing, Dean. We had sex—“

“Mind-blowing sex,” he corrected.

I swallowed and chanced a quick glance over my shoulder. He was right there. That jaw, those lips, the scent of his body wash—I wanted it all.

“But as you’ve clearly shown, we’ve moved on,” I continued.

He took a step closer, pinning me to the bar with his hips. I could feel him against me as he pressed one foot between my legs.

“I’m not done yet,” he said.

“Well I am.”

The bartender set down my drink. “Here ya go. Do you have a tab?”

Dean threw a few bills down on the bar and reached for the drink. I twisted around and watched as he swallowed down my alcohol. He handed the glass over and met my gaze as I brought the drink to my lips. I tasted him on the glass; the martini was nothing compared to him.

He jutted his chin up. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?” I asked.

“If it was just sex, then let me take you back to the villa. No harm in round two, right?”

I took another sip of the drink and his fingers skimmed beneath the hem of my dress. He bent low, bringing his mouth parallel to mine.

“Answer me,” he demanded as his brown eyes searched my face, landing on my lips with a plea.

He wanted to test me? He thought he could handle round two?

Fine.

I reached down, gripped his hand on my thigh, and yanked it away. Hard.

“Let’s go,” I said, dropping my forgotten drink back on the bar. I didn’t want it any more. Dean had ruined it, just like he’d ruined me.

He mirrored my steps, keeping control of my body. I may have been leading us out of the bar, but it was clear that I was the puppet on his strings. He reached forward and pushed the door open, skimming a kiss along my neck as he stood back to his full height. The goose bumps that bloomed beneath his kiss betrayed my attraction to him. I straightened my shoulders as the doors opened and I took a step out, righting the mission in my head.

Once again, he was trying to wrest the steering wheel out of my hands. I had to do something. I had to get the upper hand.





Chapter Thirty-Two


Dean





Our villa was tucked into a quiet corner of the property. To access it, we had to take a private path that snaked past the pools and the ballrooms. I held Lily’s hand as I led her down the path, and I could feel her body humming like a live wire. When we were nearly at the entrance to our villa, I paused and turned toward her.