Passing His Guard

“Did you enjoy the fight?” he asked in the way of a greeting.

The bartender handed her a fourth Bacardi. She probably should have stopped at her second, but Rya

She couldn’t tell if he was fishing for praise or if he genuinely cared to hear her answer. At any rate, it was difficult to hold a conversation amid all the noise, and this was not the place for what they needed to discuss. Leaning closer to be heard over the thrumming bass, she asked, “Is there someplace more . . . private we could go?”

A look that seemed a lot like surprise and oddly, disappointment, briefly flashed across his face. The emotion didn’t make sense, and it was gone so fast, she couldn’t be sure she didn’t imagine it. In its place was that self-assured, arrogant, cocky grin. It was the same smile he’d given the crowd in the octagon tonight. Not the smile he’d given Rya

No, this was a Disco grin, and although he was absolutely gorgeous wearing it, there was vacancy—a disco

“Sure there is, baby girl. I just figured you’d want a drink first.” He didn’t look back as he led her through the crowd at a determined clip that bordered on rude. She nearly had to jog to keep up with him, his grip on her hand firm and unrelenting. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she’d offended him.

Un. Fucking. Believable. Had he honestly thought this woman was any different from the rest of these cage bangers? And to think he nearly busted one of his best friends in the mouth over her. He must be going soft, spending too much time with Easton dealing with his lovesick drama. He hadn’t spent sixty seconds with this woman before she was asking him to take her upstairs and fuck her. Crissake . . . that must be some sort of a record or something. He should really start carrying a stopwatch.

They reached the elevator and he jammed the Up button with his finger. The muffled sound of the party echoed down the hall. He didn’t try to talk to her again. What was the point? She wasn’t here for the conversation, so why waste his breath? The doors dinged as they slid open. He stepped inside and pulled her in behind him. There was another couple in the elevator or he would have just done her right here. He could make her come before they’d reach the fortieth floor. Save himself the trouble of getting her back on it. Shit, he hoped she wasn’t a clinger. He was tired. He’d fought his heart out tonight and could use a good night’s sleep—alone.

She stepped a little closer, looking like she wanted to say something, but she must have thought better of it when he shot her a not here scowl. Her movement, although slight, was enough to hit him with an earthy, floral scent that teased his nostrils. His cock began to swell at the sensory foreplay, and he ground his teeth in defiance to his body’s willingness to toss away his self-respect for the chance to get inside this woman who, in truth, turned out to be nothing more than a flagrant fan. The muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Is something wrong?” she whispered discreetly.

He arched his brow, glancing down at her, and then promptly discovered what a mistake that was. She was too beautiful, too i

“Why would anything be wrong?” He answered her question with a question—straight up lawyer style.

She shrugged. “You just seem—”

The elevator jerked to a halt, cutting her off. They exited the elevator before the other couple. Keeping his firm grip on her hand, he led the little cage banger to his suite.

Aiden didn’t give her a chance to speak. The moment the hotel door closed, he had her pressed up against it, his mouth coming down on hers with all the finesse of a hurricane—powerful, consuming, and destructive to her defenses. His tongue pushed past her lips, and the first contact of warm metal surprised her. Seriously? His tongue was pierced, too? How many more surprises did this enigmatic man have secreted away?

He tasted more intoxicating than she’d imagined—the dark burn of whiskey, a sinful bite as his tongue teased across hers, playful at first and then plundering. He shifted his mouth, adjusting his kiss as his hand fisted into her hair, angling her head so he could fully claim her lips. Every inch of Aiden’s impossibly hard body molded against hers, pi

He consumed her. Every thought fled from her mind, completely shutting down to everything except the feeling of him against her, his spicy masculine scent, the taste of his tongue. Despite herself, she melted against him, and for a brief moment, he was just a man and she was just a woman, partaking in the most primal, ageless dance of passion.

“Fuck, you feel so amazing,” he growled against her mouth as he grasped her breast, squeezing to the point where pleasure and pain blurred. “So . . . real. So fucking perfect . . .”

For feeling so amazing, he certainly didn’t sound very happy about it. He took her mouth again, diving in for another breathtaking kiss as he trapped her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Exhaling a soft moan she was helpless to hold back, Rya

Lord help her, he felt incredible. His energy was like a drug, his touch infusing her with an electrical current that lit up her nerve endings, all centering to the little bundle between her thighs. Oh, to have him there—touching her, filling her . . .

As if he’d read her mind, Aiden untangled his hand from her hair and slipped it down between her thighs. Rucking up her skirt past her hips, he groaned, his husky voice full of regret. “Why did you have to be like them?”

Wait. What? Be like who?

His hand slipped into her panties. Bold, skillful fingers parted the slick folds of her flesh, teasing over the bundle of nerves that had her crying out and bucking her hips against his hand.

“Damn, baby girl, I can’t wait to make you come,” he growled, fastening his mouth over hers again.

Still rocked from his confusing question, and now hearing him calling her that generic pet name, was like a cold bucket of reality on her Aiden inferno. No doubt, every woman he met was his “baby girl,” which slammed home the undeniable truth, that as much as this was new to her—because she did not make out with random men—she was nothing more to him than a quick fuck. And more than she wanted to admit, that hurt. Which really cooled her jets, because she had zero business getting close enough to this guy that he would have the power to emotionally affect her one way or another.