“Yeah? I’m feeling pretty badass myself.” She tossed him a flirty gaze.
Chloe handed her the untouched glass in her hand. “Take this. And go get him.”
Kata knocked it back in a few swallows. Here goes nothing. “Thanks. I will.”
As she approached, Hunter’s blue eyes heated, focused on her like a laser. Ben turned and looked at her with an unfocused stare. Her friend was shitfaced? Damn, he was always a sloppy drunk.
Hunter’s hands were empty, and she picked up a beer from the cooler as she sauntered closer on her high heels, accentuating the sway of her hips—and never taking her eyes off him.
“This is the birthday girl,” Ben slurred.
“Kata, is that right?” Hunter asked.
Even his voice made her quiver. Beyond deep, husky, with a bit of a snap, demanding an answer. He looked even bigger up close.
Kata forced herself to stop all the wicked thoughts in her head—at least long enough to reply. “Yes. And you’re Hunter?”
His mouth curled into a grin. “Curious enough about me to learn my name?”
Of course. And if he wanted to flirt, she was all in. If he wanted more . . . she was definitely entertaining the notion. The thought of all that barely leashed power plunging into her made her hot and shivery.
Kata just smiled. “So what were you two talking about?”
Ben’s crooked smile split his all-American boyish face. “That we’re going to fuck you, Kata. And that you want it.”
Heat detonated right between her legs. Ben was right; she’d had this ménage fantasy for years. The thought of a lover and a stranger of his choosing touching her with their hands, pleasuring her with their cocks, drove her out of her mind. Ben, a good friend since he’d moved into her apartment complex two years ago, had promised to help fulfill her fantasy. As he’d said, what were friends for?
She could have been embarrassed at Ben’s drunken bluntness, but at least tonight’s agenda was out in the open. Why cower behind false modesty? But Kata was desperately interested in Hunter’s opinion on the matter. From beneath dark lashes, she saw that he looked supremely pleased. And a sweeping gaze down told her that his cock was still like granite. No reason she wouldn’t finally get her wish tonight.
“Happy birthday to me.” Kata winked and handed Hunter the beer. “You don’t have a drink. Will this do?”
“Thanks, but I have a bottle of water somewhere.” He looked at Ben’s bottle. “Yours is empty. Here you go, buddy.”
“Thanks.” He ripped off the cap, guzzled half the bottle, then burped loudly. “I gotta pee.”
“You do that,” Hunter suggested with a repressed smile, then sent her a hot, lingering stare. “I’d like to dance with the birthday girl. Get to know you.”
God, every time this man opened his mouth, her stomach fluttered. Stupid teenagerish reaction, given her very adult thoughts about him. But Hunter totally did it for her.
Before she could say a word, he curled an arm around her, his palm at the small of her back. That small touch was a jolt, and her entire body lit up like a supernova. She bit her lip to hold in a gasp as he led her to the corner where the amazing views of the Vegas Strip at sunset went on forever. A few nearby partygoers swayed in time with the sultry music. Then Hunter stepped closer, an olfactory aphrodisiac of musk, wood, summer rain, and pure male all mixed. He pressed his body flush to hers and left her no doubt how badly he wanted her.
Kata sensed he’d have no trouble delivering everything she’d ever yearned for . . . and more.
Chapter Two
HUNTER pulled Kata closer. As the crevices and swells of their bodies slid perfectly together, his every muscle tightened with need. Pillowy breasts on his chest, her slightly curved belly warm against his own, and lush hips filling his hands. It didn’t seem possible, but being this near her made him even harder.
Something about this woman flipped his every switch, and now that he had her close, desire detonated inside him with all the explosiveness of a megaton of TNT. He wanted to strip her bare, taste every inch of her skin, lay his scent on her. But he didn’t just want to fuck her. He also wanted to know Kata, build her trust. Seduce her until she submitted completely.
For years, he’d known submissive females willing to succumb to his any and every dominant desire. He’d known intelligent, vibrant, multilayered women with whom he connected intellectually. Unfortunately, he’d never found both in the same person. He sensed that, in Kata, he finally had.
With her, his usual rules of engagement didn’t apply, and his normal disinterest in something that lasted more than a few hours didn’t exist.
The moment he’d touched her, something inside him had jarred, then settled in place. He’d known she would be his.
Hunter blew out a deep breath. Wow, he’d never felt this way, not even remotely, for any woman. He’d never imagined feeling this instant certainty. But just like his gut feeling about tangos on a mission, he wasn’t questioning himself. It just was.
In case Kata didn’t feel the same urge for something long-term just yet, he’d keep that under his hat, but already he was fascinated. He couldn’t wait to figure out exactly why he was going to love her. No doubt, he would have to scramble fast to hook her as deeply as she’d already sunk her claws into him. No way was he letting her go.
Suddenly, Hunter couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Despite his recent hell, life was looking up.
Across the room, Ben emerged from one of the suite’s bathrooms, grabbed another bottle of beer, and watched them with a glassy, puzzled stare. Yeah, he supposed Ben wasn’t used to seeing him dance or chat with women he took to bed. Usually, Hunter made time with them because they understood the score, so there was nothing left to do but drop clothes and get busy. Vaguely, he wondered if Ben would be pissed that Kata was different for him . . . but the possibility didn’t bother Hunter enough to change course.
Another group of friends clapped Ben on the back, distracting him. Hunter relaxed. Now, Kata’s attention would be all his.
“I hear you’re a SEAL,” she murmured, her voice low, a little husky. “Recently injured?”
He grimaced at the memory of a bullet ripping through him three weeks ago, in nearly the same spot he’d suffered a similar gunshot wound only a few months prior. That night still bothered him . . . It almost seemed as though that fucking Venezuelan arms dealer, Víctor Sotillo, and his hit men had known of his prior injury and had aimed accordingly.
“Yes. He put a bullet in my shoulder, but I planted mine in his chest, so I think I got the better end of the deal.”