Tangled Page 24

But then she starts to sing:

I don’t stand a chance

When you look at me that way

I’ll do anything you want me to

Anything for you

And I’ll shout it for the whole world to know

Oh, honey, that’s what you do to me

And I don’t mind at all

Good freaking God.

Her voice is deep, and perfect, and arousing. Like a phone-sex worker at one of those nine-hundred numbers. It floats around the room and washes over me like…like verbal foreplay. My body reacts instantly to the sound. I’m as hard as a f**king rock.

You know I’m not a girl who cares to see

Or gives a damn what anyone thinks of me

I go down hard, I stand my ground

But whenever you come around

I’m helpless

Baby, I don’t stand a chance

Every time you look at me that way

It brings me to my knees

She starts swaying her hips in time to the music, and I imagine how perfect she would look on her knees. I can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s mesmerizing…hypnotic.

And I’m changing, never thought I’d be like this

But you showed me a better way

I’ll do anything for your kiss

In all my days I’ve never seen

A man who means everything to me

I can leave everything else in the dust

But it’s you I just can’t give up

She has the full attention of every man in the place. But her eyes…those stunning onyx eyes…are looking right at me.

And it makes me feel like a god.

I’ve never let anyone get this close to me before

Distance keeps me safe and keeps me sane

But now you’ve got my heart twisted with yours

Better than it’s ever been, there’s a lot to lose

But even so much more to win

Oh, baby…

She tosses her hair back, and I picture her doing just that as she rides me with long and hard strokes. Jesus. I’ve gotten lap dances from some of the best strippers in the city, and I’ve never come in my pants—not once. But that’s exactly what I’m going to do if this song doesn’t end real f**king soon.

I feel so helpless

When you look at me that way

I’ll do anything for you

Only for you

The bar erupts into hoots and whistles and clapping hands as Kate walks off the stage. Sounds like a frigging rodeo. She smiles giddily as she walks toward me. I stand up, and she stops just inches away.

She looks up at me and raises one brow. “Told you I could wake them up.”

I softly say, “That was…you…are amazing.”

I want to kiss her. More than I want to f**king breathe. Images of last night flash in my mind. Of how goddamn good she felt in my arms. I need to kiss her. The smile slowly slides off her face, and I know she needs it too. I push a strand of her hair back behind her ear and lean in…

And the shrill scream of her cell phone comes between us.

Kate blinks like she’s waking up from a trance and picks up her phone. “H—Hello?” She flinches and pulls the phone from her ear to gain some distance from the shouting voice on the other end. “No…Billy, I didn’t forget. I just had a difficult evening. No…yes…I’m at a bar called Howie’s. It’s on…” She stares at her phone a moment, and I’m guessing the dipshit just hung up on her. Her eyes are completely sober now.

“I have to go outside. Billy’s coming to pick me up.”

Won’t this be a treat? I get to meet a walking, talking ass**le. It’ll be like Freak Night at the carnival.

While we wait outside on the sidewalk, Kate turns to me. “What are we going to say to your father?”

And there’s the question I’ve avoided asking myself all night. The old man’s a stand-up guy—chivalrous. Traditional. I’d like to think he’d be proud of my defending Kate’s honor. But he’s also a businessman. And the truth is, I could have defended Kate and still signed Anderson. It’s what I should have done. It’s what I would have done had it been anyone but her on the negotiating table.

“I’ll handle my father.”

“What? No. No, we’re a team, remember? We both lost this client.”

“I’m the one who went off on the guy.”

“And I’m the one who didn’t stop you. Now, I appreciate what you did for me, Drew, really. You were pretty magnificent, actually.”

Maybe it’s just the vodka, but her words make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“But I don’t need a white knight,” she goes on. “I’m a big girl, and I can certainly handle whatever your father may dish out. We’ll talk to him together on Monday morning. Agreed?”

This clinches it: Kate Brooks is one incredible woman.

“Agreed.”

It’s then that a black Thunderbird roars down the street and stops in front of us. Yes—I said Thunderbird. Can you say Totally Eighties Weekend? A guy with an average build and light brown hair gets out of it.

Is it just me, or does he look like a douchebag to you too? The old-fashioned kind. Your grandma’s vinegar-and-water type of douche.

With a frown, he zeros in on Kate before looking me over. And then he looks even more pissed. Maybe dumbass isn’t as stupid as I thought; he recognizes competition when he sees it.

He comes around and opens the passenger door for Kate. She sighs and gives me a tight smile. Then she takes two steps toward the car and trips on a crack in the sidewalk. I move to catch her, but Needle Dick is closer and beats me to it. He holds her at arm’s length, the anger on his face turning to disgust.

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