Free Sugarbaby by CRYSTAL GREEN Page A

frowned. “You think they’re unhappy with how this party turned out?”
    Was he serious? It was as if he didn’t know anything about Texas or, heck, regular people at all.
    â€œYeah. From what I know, the Hellfire Club was arty, boho, more casual than this.” Like Bret. And speaking of Bret . . .
    I started to leave, but that only brought me closer to Noah, so near to him that that all he had to do was whisper as I passed.
    â€œStay,” he said.
    Lord help me
.
    But my defenses were already up, bolstered by my common sense. “You’re not serious,” I said, my voice close to shaking now.
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I be?”
    â€œBecause I’m a waitress and not a socialite, for one.”
    â€œI guess you don’t know much about me, then,” he said. “If you did, you’d know that I haven’t been on that social circuit for a while.”
    At the longing in his voice, a slow melt trickled down me, from stomach to belly, from belly to a part that still ached, but even worse now. I was going damp, somehow turned on by the confusion of the night.
    It’d been Simmons texting me, but here Noah was, actually pursuing me, touching me . . .
    God, yes, he was tracing his finger over the back of my hand, and it was the dirtiest, most innocent thing I’d ever experienced. He touched me like he knew me, or wanted to know me.
    But, sadder but wiser girl that I was, I moved away, a knot in my chest.
    â€œWhat’s your game?” I asked, thinking of Micah Wyatt again. “Do you always use Simmons to hook the ‘different’ girls and then you reel them in the rest of the way?”
    His gaze clouded in the hint of those flashing lights from the main floor. Light, dark, light, dark—his mood seemed to be one thing the first second, another the next. Changeable. Unpredictable.
    What had Simmons said earlier? “Rash”?
    In the end, he seemed stung by my insinuation, but he covered it well, backing off, his shoulders tense.
    â€œAgain,” he said, “I’m sorry if you were unsettled.”
    Then he looked to the side, nodding his head, and before I knew it, one of his men in the black shirts appeared.
    â€œThis way to your friends, miss,” the guy said, gesturing toward the party.
    I turned back to Noah, just for one last look, but he was already gone.

6
    That night at the Hellfire Club was almost like a dream, and when I went to sleep, I told myself I’d only imagined everything—the VIP room, the ear-crunching music, the sexy costumes, and the way all the people in the room had wanted to get at the girls on that runway.
    But those sensations were only the confetti in my fantasies, the falling debris that obscured the real reason I was in my bed, hugging my blankets to me, smiling.
    Mostly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Noah had unexpectedly tossed me over his wide shoulder, his hand pressing down on the back of my thigh as my skirt had crept up. And then there’d been that startling moment when he’d stroked my sensitive skin there, making me shameless.
    Somehow, some way, Noah had my number.
    Fantasy or not, though, he was gone. Yes, I’d blown him off thoroughly, so why would he ever come back for more smart-mouthing from me?
    Better yet, what exactly had attracted him in the first place?
    There were still so many unanswered questions, and I slept on every one of them. Then I trudged to classes in the morning, barely hearing anything about modern literature, advanced physics, or anthropology, and when I got home, I fully intended to hit the books since I had the day off and I usually got a lot done when I didn’t have to report to the Angel’s Seat.
    But I couldn’t concentrate worth a cock’s crow.
    What I needed was to distract myself, and some physical exertion would help me with that, so I ended up going to the garage, where I was still sorting through Uncle