Chapter 7

The last thing I remembered was the blinding strobe of the disco ball, fracturing the neon light into a thousand spinning shards that danced across the polished floor of the rink. The air had been thick with the scent of cheap strawberry perfume, stale beer, and the electric tang of impending climax. Then, the world had tilted. I remembered the cool touch of the marble wall against my cheek, the rough texture of his suit jacket under my fingers, and the low, rumbling growl of his voice in my ear, claiming me in front of everyone, claiming me in the shadows where the arcade games clicked and whirred. Now, morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of the VIP booth at the event center, cutting through the gloom like a warm, golden blade. I stirred, my body heavy and pleasantly sore, a deep ache in my thighs and a tender sweetness between my legs that reminded me instantly of him. I was lying on my side, my head resting on a pillow that smelled like cedar and musk, curled into the curve of his chest. His arm was a solid band of muscle around my waist, holding me in