He lifts his glass. “You can’t say no. It’s my birthday.”
I tilt my head.
He grins. “If you don’t drink with me, I’ll make you sing to me.”
I smile and clink my glass to his. “Cheers.”
He holds my eyes for a long moment.
Some women come and drag the men off, and they leave us alone at the table.
Keno grabs the legs of my chair and drags it around to face him until my knees are between his spread ones.
A thrill shoots through me.
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, bringing his broad shoulders and head so close I can hardly breathe. I’m sure we’re attracting attention, but I can’t look away from his penetrating stare.
“Ever have a one-night stand, Maggie?” His voice is a deep, decadent, rumbly thunder that shoots a zing straight to my core.
I shake my head. “My brothers would have killed any man who tried.”
Keno nods. “I suppose they would have when you were younger. I would have, too, but you’re a grown woman now.”
He releases my chair and settles those big palms on my knees. Heat radiates into my skin. They move up and curl around my bare thighs, just above my knees. How much farther will he go? I can’t drag my eyes from his, which are right now staring at my mouth. Is he going to kiss me?
He leans closer until I can feel his breath on my face and smell the leather of his cut mixed with the bourbon he drank.
His thumbs begin rubbing circles on the inside of my thighs in slow, sensual motions, and suddenly all I can think about is those thumbs doing that over my clit. Is he thinking about that, too? My heart is pounding.
A chair at the table scrapes across the floor, breaking the spell.
It’s Rock.
Keno straightens, his attention on his president.
“Come with me, Keno.”
Rock grabs the chair and carries it toward the center of the room.
Keno frowns, gives me a shrug, and follows.
Rock drops the chair, and the crowd moves back. “Have a seat, Nomad.”
Keno does as he’s told.
“We hear tell it’s your birthday, Nomad.” Then Rock snaps his fingers, and a driving beat starts up. A moment later I see a woman strut out dressed in just a tiny gold bikini with tassels hanging from her tits. She looks like she could be one of the dancers from up at the Cherry Bomb, and I wonder if she is.
She straddles Keno’s lap and begins moving her body over him.
I get up from the table and move to the bar, having no desire to watch.
Lola moves in next to me. “Sorry about this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. The guys just sort of took the ball and ran with it.”
“Sure,” I bite out.
“You’re pissed. I get that. I would be, too, but that boy is not into that girl. Look at him, he’s barely looking at her.”
“Thanks, I’d rather not,” I say, keeping my back to the room.