“No problem. They’re out front. Can’t get past the bouncer,” he says. “I’ll wait out there with them.” Then he turns away and pushes his way back through the crowd.
I sigh, then frown, because I don’t really want to deal with this right now. I just want to dance, and drink, and forget. And what’s waiting for me outside is a reminder.
My past. Hell, my present too.
But when I turn, the handsome one with the flashing eyes is right behind me holding a glass of champagne.
“Drink?” he asks. “I just stole it from a waitress so I could make a good impression. So please,” he begs, charming me with a smile that reveals no teeth. One of those sly smiles. Very sexy smiles. And Jesus, when I look him up and down from close proximity, he is the whole package too. “Don’t shoot me down,” he says. “I don’t think my ego could take it tonight.”
I make a noise. One of those half grunts, half laughs. Because I’m pretty sure his ego could take it. I’m also pretty sure that no one shoots this man down.
“Mason,” he says, leaning down in my ear so he doesn’t have to yell over the music.
And then he takes my hand and kisses it.
“Lyssa,” I say, momentarily caught up in his spell. I take the drink.
“Nice to meet you, Lyssa.”
I think I blush. I never blush. I’m the one who makes men blush. Still, there it is. Heat creeping up my neck that makes all the hairs stand on end. “You too, Mason. I’ve never seen you here before. New in town?”
“Sure,” he says. Like he’s agreeing with me, but that’s not really true.
“Come to Billionaire Beach often?”
“No,” he says. “You?”
“All the time,” I say. “We have a house here.” Not that I’m staying there. But it’s not a lie. We do have a house here. All my friends from college do. And if this handsome devil didn’t just appear, I’d crash with one of them when the fun was over. But hey… there’s no law that says I have to go home with someone from Billionaire Beach now, is there?
He does one of those nods. The chin-lift kind. A nod of understanding, not really agreement.
Good going, Lyssa. One sentence and he’s already pegged you for what you really are. A spoiled little socialite.
“You wanna go somewhere and talk?” he asks.
I look at my watch. Because I did tell Greg twenty minutes.
“Or have you already made plans with that guy who just left?”
I huff a laugh. “Someone’s been paying attention.”
“I tend to do that when I see something I like.”
“You like me, do you?” I take a sip of the champagne, trying to appear nonchalant. Then take another because he’s just… staring at me. Almost hungrily. A shudder of desire shoots through my body.
“I like what I see so far,” he says, smiling again. Then he laughs. “That’s lame, right? I’m so off my game tonight. Don’t judge me, OK? I’ve had a bad week.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “No, I won’t if you won’t.” I laugh again. Only this time it’s a giggle.
I take another drink, then decide to just down it all in one gulp. I’m acting like a fool. Like a stupid schoolgirl.
And he doesn’t look like a man who dates schoolgirls. He’s definitely older than most people in this club. Over thirty for sure.
But I like it. I like it a lot. Older man. Younger woman. That’s hot.
“So who’d you come here with?” I ask.
“Just me,” he says, panning his hand down his body.
Which makes me take a second look. And then a third. Damn. He is very sexy.
“So what do you say?” he asks.
“Hmmm?” I mumble, unable to stop staring at his brilliant green eyes.
“Talk?” He laughs. “You wanna go somewhere and talk? This really isn’t my scene. I just came out tonight because I didn’t want to be alone.”
Oh, God. I’m dead. Because there is no way I’m not going home with him. It’s a humanitarian crisis. “You’re lonely?” I ask in disbelief.
“Don’t believe me?”
“Not for a second.” I giggle. I really need another drink. Or maybe I’ve drunk too much? I suddenly feel pretty buzzed.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me through the crowd. “I know a quiet place.”
And before I can even think twice, I’m following him. I dump my empty champagne flute on a table as we pass by, and then he’s leading me down the stairs of the VIP section, and towards the back of the club to the secret door where only me, and a few other important guests, get to enter and exit.
So… he’s somebody important, that’s for sure.
By the time we get through the crowd down on the main dance floor and walk through the maze of hallways that lead to the back exit, I’m stumbling.