“Anything for you, Miles.”

“And everything for you, baby.”

* * * * *

BONUS MATERIAL:

First time Miles and Mallory meet

* * *

“Paige’s not even responding to my text messages,” I tell Ryan as I get out of the car. He shrugs as if to say what else is new? He looks down both sides of the street before motioning to one of his guys. Paige has been giving me resistance for the past few months, and now that she’s actually here in the city, I feel like she’s stonewalling me.

Ryan may shrug, but I can see the tension in his body. I chalk it up to us making an unplanned stop somewhere that he hasn’t scoped out in advance. Normally he’d have fought me on something like this, but he’s grown to realize that when it comes to her, there is no stopping me. I should be stopping myself, but I can’t seem to keep my feet from closing the distance to the front of the club. I tell myself I’m only going to have a look, make sure she’s okay. It’s something I could easily ask my security to do, but now she’s too close. Too easy for me to get to. It’s as if I can’t fight my own body.

Ryan motions to the bouncer, who lifts the rope as we bypass the line. The club is crammed full of people, the music pumping, but as if I’m drawn to her, can feel her, my eyes go right to where she’s standing next to the bar and everything else in the club fades away. I’m once again moving, pushing myself through the crowd toward her.

I should stop, I really should. This isn’t part of the plan, but I’ve waited so long, wanted for so long. I need a taste. Maybe it will cool all the emotions pumping through my body.

I watch Mallory’s eyes move across the room and find myself following them to where Paige is standing. Ryan looms over Paige, most likely giving her an earful. Maybe he can talk some sense into her. Unlikely.

I look back at her and see that Mallory has her head tilted back, eyes closed as if listening to the music and feeling the beat. I stalk over to where she is, moving in behind her, wanting a smell. I lean in and inhale her scent, her sweetness filling my lungs.

The bartender glances over at me, and I take a step back, knowing I’ve been caught. Before he places her drink in front of her, I reach into my back pocket, grab my credit card and hand it over.

She turns slightly, looking over at me, and her eyes travel up my body until they land on my face. I smile at her, wanting to mask the other things I’m feeling right now. The things running through my mind. That she’s mine. That soon I will know every part of her. Not what I read in my daily reports. Reports I haven’t been getting lately. Likely part of the reason I’ve snapped and I’m breaking all those plans I’ve been making for us.

“You didn’t ask,” she says as the bartender brings my card over and hands it to me. I slip it back into my pocket.

“What would you have said?” I tease her as I sign the receipt and push it toward the bartender.

She examines me, running her eyes over my suit. This time she wants me to know what she’s doing. Her eyes make my cock impossibly harder. It’s been hard since I knew her little ass landed in New York. I can’t help but run my eyes over her, too, enjoying what’s finally in front of me.

She’s got on tight black pants that mold to her curves, and heels that don’t hold up against my height. I wonder if she likes what she sees as her eyes run over me. It’s something I’ve never wondered before. Normally I don’t care what others think of me, but with her I do.

“So?” I ask, finding myself closing the distance between us a little more, wanting her answer. Needing it.

“Definitely not,” she says, smiling, before taking a sip of her whiskey, her full lips hitting the rim of the glass. I instantly become jealous of it. I want her lips on me. I want to know what they taste like. I’ve been wondering for years.

I both hate and love her words. I want her to want me, but I like that she doesn’t easily give in. I can’t help but laugh.

Her light eyes stare at me over the tumbler, and I find myself smiling at her again.

“Good thing I didn’t ask,” I tell her. I don’t typically ask for anything. Ever. I take and tell. She moves in a little toward me, and I’m not even sure if she knows she’s doing it. Her sweet scent hits me, and I ache to have more. I can’t wait for that smell to coat me, my sheets and everything else I can get it on.

Patience, I remind myself. With great effort and restraint, I reach for her tumbler instead of her. I turn the glass to put my lips where hers were. I’ll take whatever I can get tonight, and if this is all I can get, I’ll still count it as a win.

I take a sip and am disappointed I can only taste the whiskey, but I watch as her eyes light up with a flash of desire.

“I thought since I paid for it, I should at least get a taste.” I smirk, turning the glass back to where I’d placed my mouth, and hand it to her. She takes a sip again from the same spot, and I have to fight a groan. She’s playing with me. The sweet burn I feel isn’t from the whiskey.

“Tell me your name.” I move in a little closer, pushing her for more.

She eyes me like an inner battle is going on inside her.

“Let’s not, shall we?” she says before turning back to the bar. She looks up and down, probably looking for the bartender. I want her eyes back on me. Finally, she turns a little. “Let’s pretend this is the Emerald City and you’re the wizard behind the curtain.”