Sienna

We stopped before a man who was the perfect personification of a cyborg. Gabby could get any man she wanted with just a flick of her gorgeous hair, so maybe this would be quick, and we would be able to find some time to boogie on the dance floor for a little bit. The area behind the very big man was quieter than the rest of the club. From our standpoint, I could just make out two tall men seated around a half-moon shaped low table, on which a bottle of Champagne in a bucket was set. Two beautiful women were lounging beside them.

The bouncer’s unperturbed gaze set on Gabby’s face. “Private party.”

Yes! I shifted back, but Gabby didn’t move. I curled my fingers around her wrist. “Gabby, let’s—”

“Let them through, Bo,” a man with a deep voice said.

In a weird, perfectly executed ballet, the cyborg unlatched the red rope, the stunning women crossed paths with Gabby and me, and the man who’d talked, unfurled from his seat.

Bo-the-cyborg jerked his chin toward me. “Miss?”

Teetering at the edge of the private area, I held my breath while a strong shiver seized my back. With my heart in my throat, I couldn’t help but stare at the tall, shadowy figure stalking toward me.

I was about to enter the lion’s den, and this man was clearly the king of the jungle.

****

Jake

Like a lamb to the slaughter, Morrison’s girl had walked straight to us. Her dress showcased her long legs and high tits. Her small waist emphasized her round ass. At least, it wouldn’t be too hard to tap that.

They’d gotten a lot of attention since they’d walked in, but the Morrison girl seemed genuinely oblivious to it. The same couldn’t have been said for her friend, who strutted in with a knowing smile.

I notched my chin down, and while Sile greeted her, I zeroed in on my target, who’d remained behind the rope.

Bo said, “Miss?”

When I stepped beside her, her hand stiffened around her purse, and she blinked slowly.

The back of my neck tightened. Fuck. Looking at her eyes was like looking into the motherfucker’s black soul.

I forced my body loose and tagged her hand. “Hi, pretty stranger.”

When I raised the back of her hand to my mouth, the pulse in her wrist fluttered under my fingertips.

“H-hi, I’m Sienna. Sienna Winslow, pleased to meet you.”

From her picture, I’d expected a high-pitched, girly voice, but her timbre was low and slightly raspy.

“Jake Rhodes.”

Her plump lips parted. “What a great name.”

“Thank you. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman, too.”

Her fingers flew to her agape mouth. “Oh my god, did I say that out loud?”

Christ. Full name, and now this. Was she on the fucking spectrum? “Have a drink with us, Sienna.”

After a quick glance at her friend, she nodded. “Thank you.”

I led her to the couch, sitting her beside me, which positioned the women across from each other around the table.

The blonde shifted closer to her friend, and her arm extended across the Morrison girl’s body. “I’m Gabby.”

I shook her hand. “Jake.” Turning to Sienna, I said, “Sienna, this is Silas.”

The little smile she threw at him was nervous. “Pleased to meet you, Silas.”

“Hey, Sienna.”

While her friend babbled about some shit, my target sat quietly with her legs crossed at the ankles, a barely touched drink in her hand, and her small purse in her lap.

“Tell me about yourself, Sienna.”

Tilting Morrison’s eyes to mine, she said, “I work in a bank. What do you do?”

“I’m in business. Acquisitions.”

Time to change tactics. Curving my arm on the backrest of the booth behind her, I slanted in. “What do you do for pleasure?”

She blinked fast and cleared her throat. “I…uh, write. I mean I love writing fiction.”

“What kind of fiction?”

“Right now, anything that inspires me. I love Poe and Shirley Jackson. Zadie Smith is the goddess I pray to, and of course, the classics…”

While she talked, she had turned almost completely toward me, and her face had become animated.

“Is Nana boring you with her writing?”

She fucking was, but the blonde brat was encroaching on my plan. Sienna stopped abruptly, and we both turned toward her friend.

“Quite the opposite,” I lied.

The Ashford girl shifted until she was almost in her friend’s lap. “You can thank me later for saving you, Jake. When Nana starts, she can talk about that for hours.”

Morrison’s daughter sighed and got to her feet. “Gabby, let’s go dance.”

The blonde giggled and shook her head. “You go. I think I’m going to stay with Jake.”

“And me,” Sile said with a smirk.

Morrison’s girl shrugged. Then she headed out of the roped off area.

Farrah and Jerome Ashford’s only daughter scooted over to me, and I exhaled slowly. That twit was becoming a pain in my ass.

I tracked the Morrison girl onto the dance floor. Once under the strobing lights, she secured the strap of her cellphone-sized purse around her wrist. She arched her neck back and threw her arms above her head.

The girl could dance. She undulated with the beats, blending some seriously skilled moves with enthusiasm and sensuality. A circle of watchers had formed around her. Other girls joined in. Horny boys tried to wedge in, and they were immediately tapped on the shoulder by bouncers.

“Fuck, she’s good,” Sile said.