Free True Loves (A Collection of Firsts) by Michelle A. Valentine

to me reaches through the bars and strokes my arm. Her touch catches me off guard, and I instinctively jerk away. Noel chuckles beside me.
    I narrow my eyes at him. “So not funny.”
    His smile widens. “Get used to it, babe. When you’re with me, everyone’s going to want a piece of you.”
    “Gross.”
    He throws his arms around me and leans into my ear. “What’s it like to know you’re with the one guy in this room every woman wants to fuck?”
    I shove him away from my ear. “Not every woman.” I storm away from him. Even over the blaring music, I hear his laugh, and I clench my fists tight. I don’t remember him being so stuck on himself. I step up to the bar and order a beer.
    “Trouble in paradise?” I glance over to find Riff leaning against the bar.
    Great. I’m so not in the mood for another jackass. I roll my eyes and take my beer from the smiling brunette behind the counter. “No trouble…and definitely no paradise. This is just a job.”
    “Ah, the charity, right?” Riff’s brown eyes twinkle. “How’s that going?”
    I pick at the label on the bottle. “Pretty much non-existent at the moment. Noel keeps putting off hammering out the details about the literacy program. That’s the whole reason I’m here—to get the marketing off the ground.”
    Riff nods. “He’s thinking ahead, I’ll give him that.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s stringing you along for as long as he can until he gets what he wants from you. The more information he gives you about the charity, the sooner you can leave and go back to New York. You two have some history, so you’re a challenge to him. That’s a game he hasn’t had to play for quite some time. He tends to always get what he wants.”
    I shake my head. “Yeah, well, what he wants from me, he isn’t going to get.”
    Riff smiles. “That’s good to know.” He nods toward the dance floor. “Want to dance?”
    I turn toward the sea of people, and my eyes fixate on a couple practically molesting each other right in plain view of everyone. They grind their pelvises together, leaving little to the imagination of what a night in their bedroom would be like. How can people do that in public? I shake my head. “Um, no, thanks.”
    He runs his fingers along my arm, and I tense. “Come on, Lanie. I won’t bite.”
    I shake my head, but before I can answer, I’m dragged away by the other arm. Noel’s eyes are hard when he looks at Riff. The pure hate doesn’t seem to faze Riff, though. He lifts his beer and gives Noel a small nod. Why do I feel as if I’m in the middle of a childish game of tug-of-war?
    I yank free of Noel’s grip. “What the hell?”
    Noel’s expression darkens. “I told you to stay away from him.”
    My arms fold over my chest. I’m ready for a fight. “I’m a big girl. I can talk to whomever I want.”
    He turns away and runs his hand through his hair. He opens his mouth as though he wants to say something then immediately closes it. I stare at him, waiting for his smart-ass reply. After a couple seconds, he turns back to me and holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”
    I flinch. “What? Are you psycho? There’s medication for that, you know.”
    Before I can think, he grabs me against his chest. “Psycho? No. A little crazy? Maybe.” He leans into my ear and says with a slight growl, “Dance with me.”
    The words cause my stomach to clench. I know he’s trying to break me down. The minute I give in and let him touch my body, it will want him. And I hate that he knows that. I shove his chest, putting personal space between us again, and take a long drink from my beer. Dancing with him definitely crosses the line. “No.”
    His brow furrows. “No?”
    Noel obviously doesn’t hear that word very often. “I’m here on business, not to”—I gesture toward the crowd—“let you grind all up on me.”
    Before he can say another word, I walk away and take an empty seat at the end of the bar. Noel watches me