Free Promiscuous by Missy Johnson Page B

had been able to do in years. She was making me feel something. I could call it feeling sorry for her all I wanted, but the reality was that every single time I saw her I had to fight the urge to throw her down and fuck her until she could barely walk.
    Get it together and remember what you’re being paid to do. I knew exactly what was on the line here, and I was stupid if I was willing to throw all that away for some woman I barely even knew.
     

Chapter Ten
    Beth
    Another evening spent in a random club trying to forget my problems. Well, maybe not so random. This was one of the most exclusive clubs in the area. They didn’t just let anyone in. I glanced to my left, where Miley Cyrus was taking body shots of the chest of a busty blonde. Well, maybe they’d relaxed their standards a little .
    The funny thing was, every morning began the same.
    I was going to change.
    I was in a funk, and I was going to fix it. I wasn’t going to let myself get out of control. I could have all the motivation in the world and then somehow end up back here. These places were all the same: the same people, and the same problems.
    Nothing ever changed.
     “Well, fancy seeing you here.”
    I turned around and found myself staring into the dark eyes of Roman. His lip curled upward as he took in my expression, his gaze then traveling down my body appreciatively. I felt my nipples harden under the scrap of sheer white chiffon that was my dress, my body reacting to his intense stare.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
    The racing heart, the tingles, the blank mind—it was all there, just like every other time I saw him. I felt like a little kid around him. He intimidated me. I was used to being such a confident person, but the attack had reduced me to an insecure self-obsessed mess. He made me feel safe, but out of my comfort zone. With him I felt alive and not just like I was going through the motions. If anyone could bring the old me back, it was him.
    There was a big part of me that was excited to see him. As honest as I was being in the text that I’d sent him, deep down I didn’t want him to take no for an answer. Just like I didn’t want Coop giving up on me.
    “Oh, you own the place now, do you?” He chuckled. I was having trouble staying on my seat. I told myself it was the three vodkas I’d had, but looking into those damn sexy eyes, I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t him.
    He slid into the tiny space between me and the bar counter, between my legs, his thighs pressing against mine.
    Oh. My. God.
    My eyes were level with his chest, and I was staring at the outline of his ripped muscles through his fitted shirt. I raised my head, my eyes meeting his, embarrassed by how he made me feel.
    “You okay there, Beth?” he murmured, his eyes laughing at me.
    Was I okay?
    No. I wasn’t. I had an insanely sexy older man pressed so close against me I was sure he could feel the heat bursting from between my legs. God, what he did to me . . . Or, rather, what I wished he’d do to me. I threw back the last of my drink.
    “I doubt it would make a difference if I did own the place,” I retorted smugly, forcing our conversation back on track. “What do you want from me, Roman? I’m too tired to play your games tonight.” I rubbed my temples, trying to will away the pressure building behind my eyes.
    “Hey, I’m just a guy out on the town. It’s not my fault we both have very expensive tastes.” Ah, why was he looking at me like that? And why was my body reacting this way? “We’re very similar, you and I,” he continued, his fingers stroking the top of my leg. “We’re both used to getting what we want.”
    “And yet we don’t seem to want the same things,” I retorted, annoyed. “Make yourself useful and buy me a drink.”
    He narrowed his eyes at me and smiled, reaching for my glass. I held my breath as he moved slowly past me, and down to the other end of the bar. As soon as he was gone, I heaved a