DAMIEN
In my world, there are countless reasons to kill a man.
The fastest, by far, is my wife.
My knuckles still throb from the lesson I taught that bastard Ignacio. He’s lucky. Lucky it ended with a dislocated jaw and two black eyes. Lucky Jude dragged me off him and reminded me that killing the prick in my own club would be… inconvenient.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.
Doesn’t mean I won’t next time.
I bleed off the rest of the rage and move back onto the floor. Vixen’s Kiss is alive—bass crawling up the spine, smoke hanging thick, bodies packed close and stupid with want.
I take my booth.
High. Shadowed. Center view.
My seat.
Then she moves.
My Rhea.
My Dot.
The sight of her slams into me like a punch straight to the c**k.
Instant heat—thick, heavy, unstoppable. My d**k h
