A murmur ripples through the bar, and I sense a disturbance at the door. I work my way to the edge of the dance floor just as the crowd parts to reveal Torment stalking through the bar.

    “Uh-oh.” I give Cora a nudge. “He found her. I can’t decide if I want to keep dancing or go back to the table for the show.”

    Cora looks over, and her smile fades. “Jimmy is with him.” Her breath hitches. “And Renegade…”

    My personal octopus slithers his hands down my curves, and I wiggle against him. “There’s an advantage to being single again.”

    “And Jack,” Cora says in a rush of breath.

    Jack’s gaze locks on me. Suddenly, I don’t feel single anymore.

    “Save yourself.” I turn and push my new friend away. “Quickly. Go.”

    Moments later, I feel Jack’s heated presence behind me. He hooks one arm around my waist, the other across my ribs, and plasters me against the heat of his hard body. “Clearly, I was too soft with you,” he murmurs in my ear.

    “What do you mean?” I tremble at his touch, the harsh rasp of his voice, the strong arms holding me fast.

    “Too much pleasure. Not enough pain.” He nips my earlobe and I gasp.

    “Enjoy your dance. Because when it’s done, you’re coming with me to learn a lesson about jumping to conclusions and not talking things through.” He slides his hand around my throat and gently tips my head back so I look into his cold, hard eyes. “And if I see any mark on you other than the ones I put there, you are going to be one very sorry girl.”

    My body flames at his touch, the subtle threat in his voice, and the pressure of his hand on my throat. “Are you trying to turn me on?”

    He tightens his grip, giving me just enough air to breathe. “I don’t have to try.”

    “I can’t give you what you need, Jack. You should be with someone like that woman you were with when I saw you the very first time.”

    “I tried. I went to Club Sin last night and met up with one of my old play partners, Sylvia. She was waiting for me in my playroom.”

    Oh God. He went to the club. Of course he went to the club. I wasn’t enough, and now his career is at risk and he’s back with Sylvia. I sag in his arms, and he releases me and turns me to face him.

    “I left,” he says.

    I stare at the dance floor. Does he expect me to be happy that he played with her but didn’t take her home? Not even Bloodbath’s “Soul Evisceration” could lift my mood now.

    Jack threads his hand through my hair, tips my head back, and studies me intently. “I left, Penny.” For some reason his soft Tennessee twang seems more pronounced and Penny sounds like PINny. He never calls me Penny. Always Pen or darlin’. Why is he being so formal now? My mother was only ever formal when I was in trouble or she had something important to say, and wanted my full attention. Listen to me, Penny Grace Worthington.

    “You’re not listening to me.” His chin dips down so his face is close to mine. “I left. I didn’t play with Sylvia or anyone at the club.”

    “But you will. You need it. I understand that. Really, I do.”

    He moves closer, and his eyes grow intense. “I’ve thought of something that will work for both of us. But first we’re gonna go for a drive, sober you up, and talk this through.”

    I give an indignant sniff. “I’m not hammered.”

    “Yeah, you are. You’re fucking cute when you’re drunk—all smiley and happy, dancing around—and so goddamn sexy I couldn’t drive fast enough to the bar, ’cause I knew the guys would be all over you. But that’s the last time.”

    I give him a puzzled look. “Last time?”

    “You don’t go drinking without me again.” Jack scowls and his hand drops to my waist, fingers digging into my hip. “You don’t dance with anyone except me, and you don’t let anyone touch you except me.”

    “That would be unacceptable even if we were together.”

    “We are together, and that’s how it is when you get involved with a Redemption fighter.” He tips his chin toward our booth where a cohort of angry Redemption males is engaged in a battle with their equally angry women. Torment, in particular, looks like he’s about to explode because it’s clear Makayla isn’t in any hurry to leave.

    “That didn’t help your case.” I laugh softly. “I’m not about to be the only woman who does what she’s told.”

    “You’re the only one who doesn’t get a choice,” he snaps. “Because you’re the one who left a message on my phone telling me it was over. You’re the one who didn’t return my calls so we could talk things out. You didn’t text me. You didn’t come to me. And you went out alone without me.” He sweeps me up in his arms and carries me off the dance floor, knocking dancers aside with reckless abandon.

    Mortified, I struggle against him. “Put me down right now.”

    “We’re going for a drive, and you’re gonna hear me out.”

    “Jack, this isn’t funny.” I slap at his chest, and he huffs his annoyance.

    “You’re right. It wasn’t funny to be cut off without any explanation.” He weaves through the crowd, and I pull in my legs and arms, trying to not hit anyone. “It wasn’t funny to get your message and hear the hurt in your voice. So after we’ve sobered you up and talked it out, we’re going to Club Sin because there’s only one way I know how to get through to you. I’m gonna break down your walls, show you who I am and how strong you are, and how perfect we are for each other. Then maybe you’ll understand exactly how I feel about you.”

    I look up at him, so intense, determined, hopeful. I want this. I want him. But I don’t want him to risk his career and reputation. If he managed to avoid Gerry’s cameras last night, I don’t want to be the reason he’s caught tonight. “Okay.” I lean up, press a kiss to his neck. “I’ll go with you. But only if you wear a hat.”