Holding Strong

“You are so—” Just then, Denver spotted Havoc scanning the crowd before a group of fans stopped him. “Think he’s looking for you?”

Armie slunk lower in his seat. “No.”

“You are so hopeless.”

“Know what’s hopeless? This denial you have where Cherry Peyton is concerned. Give it up already.”

Denver glared at him. Why the hell did everyone want to butt into his private business? “Why don’t you at least talk to the SBC? Maybe—”

“Why don’t you talk to Cherry?” He tossed back his shot and asked for another. “Better yet, don’t talk. Take her straight to bed and work off some tension.”

Armie fought hard, played hard, but usually didn’t drink hard. Denver eyed him. “This isn’t about Cherry and me.”

“It’s about you trying to avoid talking about you and Cherry.” He grabbed a handful of peanuts while waiting for the next drink.

Disgusted, Denver said, “Are you going to turn around everything I say?”

“Know what I’d like to turn around?” Armie nodded at someone. “That.”

When Denver looked up he saw a stacked redhead coming their way. Lips pursed, eyes big, expression coy.

Definitely on the make.

“She looks ripe to ride doggy style, doncha think?”

At times Armie’s brazen outspokenness bordered on obnoxious. Often, actually. But in this instance, with that girl’s hips, Denver totally got his meaning and even had to grin in agreement.

Seeing their humor, the lady narrowed her coal-lined eyes.

Thank God it was Armie she’d zeroed in on. “You know her?” Denver asked.

“Nope. But give me a minute.”

The redhead stopped in front of Armie and touched a finger to his chest. “You’re Armie Jacobson.”

“Guilty.”

“So are the rumors true?”

“Sure.”

Denver stifled a laugh; Armie hadn’t even asked her what rumors she meant. But when it came to Armie, just about anything was possible.

Bracing her hands on his thighs, she leaned in more, making sure to put her cleavage on display. “I watched you fight.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a beast.” With a little shiver, she added, “I think that’s sexy.”

Armie smiled.

Denver lifted an eyebrow. He felt like a damn voyeur, but he wasn’t about to budge. This was too entertaining.

“So...” Pretending modesty, she ducked her face while still watching him. “Was it...naughty of me to confront you like this?”

Armie stared her in the eyes while murmuring, “Real naughty. And you know what I do with naughty girls?”

“You...you punish them?”

Denver almost choked, yet Armie didn’t miss a beat.

“That’s right.” Armie’s smile had the woman ready to swoon, especially when he added, “Even if they’re really, really good.”

On an indrawn breath she straightened, all but vibrating with excitement.

“You got a room anywhere close, honey?”

Breathless, face flushed and one hand splayed over her upper chest, she whispered, “Right across the street.”

Stern, his stare intimidating, Armie told her, “Then we should probably get to it.” He finished off his shot and put the glass on the bar.

To Denver he said, “Settle my bill, will ya?” and with a stinging swat to the gal’s derriere, he started her toward the exit.

Shaking his head, Denver turned back to the bar—and almost bumped into Cherry Peyton. The time of the night and so much dancing had left her bouncy blond hair a little messy, her makeup a little smudged, her skin flushed and dewy.

A soft V-necked shirt clung to her breasts and tight jeans hugged her ass.

She looked so damn hot, his dick twitched and his guts tightened.

Breathless, eyes wide, she asked, “Was Armie serious?”

Just to tease her, Denver asked, “About what?” when he knew damn good and well what she meant. He also knew he shouldn’t be engaging her more than necessary—except, well, his convictions had already started to fade.

After glancing around to ensure they had privacy, she whispered, “Spanking?”

Damn, but she always smelled so good. “I doubt it.” Settling back some so he wouldn’t keep breathing her in, he shrugged. “Armie’s into sex however he can get it. But I don’t think he particularly gravitates to the whole discipline scene.”

Scandalized, she said, “He’s awfully blatant about it.”

True, but her interest in Armie annoyed him. Her interest in all guys was the number one reason he’d always tried so hard to avoid her.

Because he flat-out didn’t share.

Cherry Peyton might be the most appealing woman he’d ever met—sexy, sweet, funny—but she was a world-class flirt.

That fact bugged him just enough that he asked, “Why?” He leaned to the side a little to see her heart-shaped ass. “You like the idea of getting your backside warmed?”

Instead of embarrassing her, the question made her smile bright enough to stir him.