The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(88)

I’m blathering on and the embarrassment infuses deeper into my face, the heat from it coming off of me in waves so that I know it’s there.

I try to pull away because I’ve made a big enough fool out of myself. He doesn’t let me. Instead, his hold increases in strength and he pulls me into him. I fall awkwardly against him. His hand locks against my neck. I look into his eyes, which are just a breath away from mine. “Mr. Anth—”

That’s all I get out before his lips crash against mine. His are firm, but soft at the same time. His tongue slips through my lips and instantly finds mine. For a moment I don’t respond, too shocked to move, but then slowly it all hits me: the feel of his rough hand against my neck and face, the way he towers over me and makes me feel small, the sweet taste of his mouth, the way his tongue is searching mine out, and most importantly, the way his body crushes up against me—solid, determined, warm. I give in with a moan, pushing into him and wanting more. My tongue finds his and they dance, wrapping around each other in their fight for supremacy. I feel one of his hands move to my ass, pushing under the robe and cupping it as if we weren’t in the middle of a club. I should stop him, but his fingers flex into my ass cheek and the feel of that is so good that combined with his kiss, I’m too lost in all that is him to even think of calling a halt.

“You’re a hell of a kisser, Ana Stevens,” he whispers once he pulls away. He moves away slightly and places a gentle peck against my forehead before retreating. My body leans towards his at first, not wanting him to go, but I manage to stop before I make too big of a fool of myself.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” I tell him.

He looks at me for a minute as if searching for something. I have no idea if he finds it. I figure he doesn’t because he turns away from me. I just stand there stupidly as he walks away.

“I don’t date,” he mutters, his back still to me as he opens the door.

I’m sure he doesn’t need to. Women probably throw themselves at his feet. He has that god-like persona. He’s beautiful and commanding. He has more money than I will see in my lifetime. He’s definitely dark and dangerous, and he has that forbidden vibe—especially to me. Women must flock to him. All of that, added into the way he kisses? I fight back the urge to tell him I’ll go with him. For just one more taste of him, I think I’d agree to almost anything. He’s that addicting. I shake my head out of the fog he’s woven around it. This is stupid. I do not fit into Roman’s world; even trying would destroy me. Of that, I’m sure.

“I’ll be out in an hour, Mr. Anthes,” I bluff. I can’t leave because I have to find Allen. My voice is raw but solid, bringing the conversation back to the business at hand.

“There’s no need, Ana. You may remain dancing, at least until I decide what I’m going to do with you.”

What he’s going to do with me? Now that’s something to worry about. I can hear Paul bitch at me now for taking chances. “What do you—”

“I’ll see you soon, pet,” he says over his shoulder before he disappears.

Pet?

I’m left staring after him like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast-moving car. I hope I survive the crash.





Two Weeks Later



I sit in the back of the room watching the dance floor through the smoke. I shake the ice in my glass before downing the last of my scotch. I may own the Dive, but it’s not my scene. I keep it to launder my money through. It serves a purpose, just like most things in my life.

That’s not the reason I’m here tonight. I’m here for Ana. I should have just walked away. I spent a week convincing myself of that. I spent the following week trying to replace her. That was a colossal failure. I couldn’t even get it up. I’d kiss a girl and instead of getting turned on, I kept remembering the feel of Ana’s body, the taste of her mouth and wanting more of her, because apparently no one else will work. It’s all I can seem to think about. Hell, I even jacked off to the memory of our kiss last night. A f*cking kiss has me harder than I’ve been since I was a young kid wet behind the ears.

Now, the plan is to f*ck her out of my system. Ana will be mine—one way or another. I still hesitate to use the brother, but I might if she forces my hand.

She is even more beautiful tonight. Her blonde hair is short, falling down in a straight, silky and sleek golden halo at her shoulders. It’s beautiful, but too controlled. In too much order. It’s not hard to imagine it rumbled and messed up in bed, though. Her whole body screams sex, with the way her hips move and the way her legs tighten against the pole as she gyrates around it. It’s enough to make any man wish he was the object she was holding on to, which explains why she’s developed such a large following in a short amount of time. Big Joe wasn’t kidding when he told me she had become popular. The men here are all screaming her name. She doesn’t notice, I can tell. As far as she knows at this moment, the room is empty. She’s lost in the music and has tuned out all of the screaming.

I don’t allow the men to touch the dancers. My girls don’t dance for singles. I pay them f*cking well. If the men want a lap dance, then and only then can the girls allow that. It’s always in a separate room and only with a bouncer in attendance. Big Joe told me that Ana flat out refuses private dancing. I found it odd because I’ve checked into her pretty thoroughly. The woman is one step away from being homeless, yet she still turns down extra money. I watch as she rotates around and around the pole, defying gravity. Her spin begins to slow down and she slides to the floor, driving the men crazy. She’s smiling.