King's Passion. Adrianne Byrd
chest finally started to rumble with laughter. “You gotta be kidding me. You’re suing me for fifty million dollars because you were left at the altar? That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? You lure men here for some wild fantasy night, pump them full of liquor and God knows what else while an army of naked women swing around on poles and seduce them into having a quickie marriage at a drive-thru chapel that you guys seem to have on every street corner around here.”
Eamon heard the words but he couldn’t believe that someone would be crazy enough to say them, let alone believe them. Not to mention he still couldn’t square the circle on just how Marcus Henderson managed to land a vixen like her. He rolled the riddle around in his head while he stared at her.
She started fidgeting. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”
“What would you like for me to say?” He rose from his chair with a smirk on his face. “Clearly, you’re insane or at the very least bitter.”
SLAP!
Eamon blinked while the sting of her hand lingered. “Feel better?”
Her hand whipped around again, but before it could make contact, Eamon stopped it in midair and then pinned it to the wall behind her. There was something about the way her electric green eyes widened in surprise or the way she smelled like jasmine and white roses. No. Who in the hell was he kidding? It was the way her mesmerizing breasts heaved up and down against his firm chest that proved to be one temptation too many. So he did the very thing that he’d been thinking about since she walked into the club: he kissed her.
Chapter 5
Victoria didn’t know what happened. One minute she was so angry that she was breathing fire and then in the next she was a dripping pool of wax from the heat of this stranger’s kiss. Not only that, there must be something wrong with her brain because she could swear that she heard her sensors crackling and popping. Yet she didn’t want him to stop.
He tasted like those wonderful bits of chocolate with the heady filling of cognac. His tongue probed inside her mouth and she had the embarrassing response of moaning as if he’d found an oral G-spot. While he kept her one hand pinned to the wall, the free hand took full liberty to slide up the back of her thigh and then cupped the back of her right butt cheek and squeezed.
She moaned again, but he swallowed it up while kneeing her legs apart. This must be what it felt like to be ravished. The way the heroes always did in those old black-and-white films. The ones she never understood in which the women were always willing to drop everything they ever knew and all that they’d ever wanted to be just so that they could ride off into the sunset with some man. In this one weird moment she understood those women perfectly.
Just when oxygen was becoming a distant memory, King tore his mouth away from hers and started setting little fires along the column of her neck and then was well on his way toward her cleavage when the door bolted open.
“Victoria, are—oh!”
Victoria’s passion-drugged eyes finally popped open just as King’s head lifted off her breasts. And when had she hooked her right leg around his hip?
At Grace’s stunned face, Victoria suddenly remembered herself and became appalled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get off me!” With the strength of Super Woman she shoved Eamon back, but it was the shock of the sudden maneuver that sent him tumbling back and tripping over the corner of his desk. The next thing everyone saw was his hands and feet flying into the air. When he hit the floor, he hit it hard.
BAM!
“Oomph!”
Victoria winced and then leaned forward to peek over the desk to see if he was still conscious. He was and looking around like he was still trying to process what had just happened.
“Next time, keep your hands to yourself!” She snapped her head as if she’d just given him a really good piece of her mind and then jerked back toward her cousin. “Let’s go!”
Grace’s wide gaze shifted down Victoria’s body and then pulled at her own top.
Picking up her signal, Victoria glanced down and saw that half her right breast hung out the low-cut V of her dress. Like a runaway brush fire, Victoria’s entire face became enflamed with embarrassment. But she tucked herself back in, lifted her head and stormed out of the office like a level-five hurricane.
“Victoria, wait up,” Grace called after her.
However, slowing down was the last thing Victoria wanted to do. She wanted to hurry and get out of that place as fast as possible. She burst out the back of the club only to be blasted by some hard-bass music booming from the surrounding speakers. She pressed her fingers into her ears and kept moving, but then the woman on stage in front of her caught her attention and her angry strides slowed.
The woman on the golden pole was amazing. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it was even possible for someone to hold themselves upside down with one leg while twirling around. Then she stopped, folded herself back up while her legs split open into a perfect V. It was erotic beyond belief, yet at the same time graceful. Slowly, she glided down the pole until she gently settled down into the textbook full split. Then the dancer did something that she’d never seen before. Somehow she was able to make both butt cheeks pop, then one at a time.
“How in the world?”
Just then that Quentin character she met earlier turned his head and caught her checking out the show. He flashed those dangerous dimples at her and waved.
“Ooooh,” Grace said from behind her. “Now, I wouldn’t mind five minutes alone in the back with that one.”
Victoria groaned as shame and embarrassment part deux washed over her with even bigger waves.
“Are you ladies sure that you don’t want to audition?” Quentin yelled above the music. “We’re always looking for more talent.” He winked.
“Let’s get out of here,” Victoria said and then turned for the door. After a few steps, she realized that Grace wasn’t behind her. Rolling her eyes and huffing out a frustrated sigh, she marched back, grabbed Grace by the arm and dragged her out of the club before Quentin convinced her to jump on that pole and quite possibly break her neck.
“Oooooh. He was cute,” Grace panted. “Did you see him?”
“Yes. I saw him. Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.” She shoved open the glass door.
“You mean sort of like that gorgeous wolf that pawed your breasts out of your dress in the back office?”
Victoria cut her gaze over at cousin. “So if I jumped off a bridge would you do it, too?”
Grace blinked.
“Exactly. Get in the car.” Victoria rolled her eyes and opened her door. But before she could hop in behind the wheel, she saw King—she didn’t even know which brother he was—jog out of The Dollhouse and head toward her. “Get in the car, Victoria,” she mumbled under her breath and wasted no time doing just that.
“Ms. Gregory, wait up!”
Victoria slammed her door and locked it just as Eamon reached it and tried to open it.
“What took so long?” Iris asked, scooting up from the backseat and folding her arms on the back of their chairs. “Who is that? He’s fine.”
You don’t have to tell me.
“Ms. Gregory!” He knocked on the window and then yelled, “We haven’t finished talking.”
“Is that what we’re calling talking nowadays?” Grace snickered.
“Shut up.” Victoria crammed the key into the ignition and started the car.
King tossed up his hands. “You’re the one that came to see me. Remember?”
She