Free Kissed by Elizabeth Finn Page B

up to the bar to get a drink, I followed.
    “And I run into you at a bar yet again,” I said to her as I stepped up beside her. “I’m starting to think you’re a lush.”
    She turned to me, but she didn’t smile. “I didn’t know to avoid you last time.”
    I ignored the insult. “Dance with me.”
    “I’m getting a drink.”
    “It can wait. I can’t.”
    I offered her my hand, and she looked around for a moment. When she finally placed her hand in mine, I folded my fingers around hers and pulled her away to the dance floor.
    “You look stunning,” I said as I tugged her closer to my body and started moving her around the floor. “But out of curiosity, what the hell are you doing here?” My teeth were gritted as I spoke, barely allowing my jaw to work, and while my voice was quiet and my body language unassuming to those around us, there was no mistaking the irritation in my tone.
    She let out a huff of breath. “I’m doing what I get paid to do. He booked me for this night weeks ago. I couldn’t back out without running the risk of pissing him off, and if he’s pissed, then my employer is pissed.” She was silent for a moment, and her focus shifted to my chest. “I was going to say I didn’t feel well and leave before the end of the eve—”
    I cut her off. “What’s the point? There’s a room full of people who’ve already seen you. I’d say the damage is already done.” I regretted the words the moment they were out of my mouth, but it was too late.
    She stopped moving and stared. Her lips were parted, and they trembled slightly as her eyelids fluttered. “I beg to differ,” she said quietly, and then she tried to pull away.
    I wouldn’t let her. I held her close, closer than I should for a formal event, and my hand gripped her lower back rather than her shoulder.
    “I wish my personal opinions on the topic mattered. I really do, Gabe. But I have a job to do.” I hated the sound of the excuse coming out of my mouth, even though it was the truest statement I’d likely made to her yet.
    “Yeah? Well, so do I,” she retorted angrily.
    I scoffed, but she was quick to fire back.
    “I’m so sick and tired of hearing about what a threat I am to him—his reputation, his career, his future. Did it ever once occur to you that he’s as big a threat to me? You, too, for that matter. This is how I support myself. This is how I survive.”
    “There are a hell of lot better ways to survive than this, Gabe.”
    “Not for me. This”—she looked around as though searching for the explanation—“pays well and allows me time to deal with my other…responsibilities.”
    I scoffed. “Well then you should be thrilled to know he’s paying three thousand dollars a week to keep all those other nuisance cocks away from you.”
    She stopped moving then, staring up at me, clearly shocked to hear that.
    “That’s right,” I continued. “He’s paying handsomely to keep your calendar nice and clear for you. Let me guess, though, you don’t see a penny of that money, do you?” It wasn’t a question. I already knew full well she didn’t.
    Her lips pursed, and I could have sworn her eyes shimmered before she looked down at my chest instead of my eyes. And then she was silent. I moved her slowly around the floor in time with the music, and she let me steer her through the people. She also let me keep our bodies close; of course, I wasn’t really sure she was even aware of what we were doing. She seemed lost in her mind at the moment, and I let her stay there so she could soak up the insult of the situation.
    “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said quietly.
    “You don’t think so, huh? Then how come you’re so offended right now?” I leaned back, looking down at her face. “He throws down over fifteen K for your pussy a month, and you see a measly three thousand of that. Tell me that’s okay.”
    “Three thousand isn’t so measly to me,” she retorted.
    “ I know that. They know that.