His conversation with Jase had continued to replay in his head over and over again until he was dizzy from thinking.

But you’re too much of a pussy to tell her brother to go fuck himself?

Leyton knew one thing for certain; he wasn’t a goddamn pussy.

Did he respect Max? Absolutely.

Did he want Jase? Fuck. Now more than ever.

Did he want Ashlynn? Hell yes.

Could he have her?

Well, the answer wasn’t simple.

Max had warned him away from his sister, though Leyton still wasn’t sure why that was. Leyton had always been loyal, always put Max above everyone else in his life and for good reason. The man really had saved him, and he owed him for that. Defying him wasn’t something Leyton could bring himself to do, even if his desire for Ashlynn was eating away at his insides, ripping him to shreds slowly.

But in a sense, Jase was right. Talking to Max wouldn’t be that difficult, if only Leyton could muster up the courage to do so. Hell, he should’ve stood up to Max when they’d been busted at Trace and Marissa’s wedding, but he hadn’t. He still remembered that day so vividly.

Leyton knew the instant Max excused himself that he’d need to keep an eye on Ashlynn. The woman was known to get into trouble, and the last place she needed to do that—at least today—was at someone else’s wedding.

“Dance with me?” Ashlynn asked, smiling up at him.

“Don’t dance,” he told her, trying not to look directly into those mesmerizing hazel eyes. It was bad enough he saw those eyes in his dreams, haunting him, tormenting him.

“Today you do,” she said plainly, her smile never slipping.

When she took his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor, Leyton could only follow. He wasn’t interested in causing a scene, and with Ashlynn, that would be easy to do if she was denied something she wanted.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he didn’t dance. Not once in his entire life had he danced. With anyone.

Granted, he’d seen enough people doing it that he knew the basics. He took her hand in his, slid his other around her, gently touching her back. He was careful not to pull her too close. He damn sure didn’t want Ashlynn knowing just how much she affected him.

“You’re not too bad at this,” she offered with a smile.

Chancing it, Leyton glanced down into her eyes. That inferno of desperate need kicked in, the same one that showed up unexpectedly anytime he was near her. The woman made him crazy, but up to this point, he’d done his best to pretend otherwise.

After the first song, Leyton thought she’d let him off the hook, but that wasn’t the case. For the next four songs, all relatively slow, Ashlynn kept him moving around the dance floor with the other couples, more often than not, her body sliding sensually against his. By the time he finally convinced her to take a break, he was sporting a serious hard-on. There was no way Ashlynn hadn’t noticed, but he pretended not to be affected by it.

They each retrieved a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Leyton downed his quickly, but it did nothing for him. Deciding to make a pass through the building, in an effort to do a semblance of what he’d been hired to do, he informed Ashlynn that he’d be back in a few minutes.

After walking the perimeter, then returning inside and making a pass down the various hallways of the attached hotel, he found himself once again standing in front of Ashlynn. Only this time, she wasn’t smiling up at him.

“Are you avoiding me?” she questioned, hands on her hips.

He’d known she would assume that. And maybe that was because he was avoiding her. At least by walking around, he’d managed to get his libido under control, reducing the risk of him pulling her close and crushing his mouth to hers. Only now, all that had been for naught since they were standing in a deserted hallway and she was looking at him as though she was planning to jump him at any moment.

“You are,” she muttered. “I should’ve known.”

Gearing up to argue, Leyton found himself backing away from her as he swallowed hard, trying to decide how to let her down gently and avoid touching her though he desperately wanted to.

That never happened.

Instead, Leyton found himself pressed up against the wall, peering down at Max’s sister—his boss’s freaking sister, he reminded himself—looking into her eyes and wishing like hell he was anywhere but here. She was far too much temptation for him to resist, which was the very reason he always kept a solid distance between them.

A distance Ashlynn erased in a matter of seconds.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” she whispered, her hands flattening against his chest.

Leyton sucked in a breath, unable to find words to respond. His body was rioting, turning against the logical side of his brain, which was telling him to get the fuck away from her before he did something he could never undo, something he would never forget no matter how long he lived.

“I’ve never understood you, Leyton. You look at me like … like you want to have me for dessert, but then you pretend not to notice this thing between us.”

There was nothing between them. Nothing at all. But the retort failed him. He couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. His dick was rock hard, and if she pressed just a little closer, she’d notice, too.

Oh, fucking hell.

Leyton’s head damn near exploded when Ashlynn’s hand trailed down his chest, over his stomach, then lower… Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He couldn’t take much more.

But then the world stopped spinning, time stood still, all things ceased to exist except for Ashlynn’s sweet mouth when she pressed her lips to his. He tried, he really fucking tried to resist her, but the instant her tongue darted out and slid over his lower lip, he lost it.

In a hurried motion that reflected his own desperation, he flipped their positions so that she was up against the wall, his mouth crushed to hers while he forced his thigh between her legs, grinding against the warmth he found there.

“Leyton,” she moaned, her hands coming up to latch on to his hair, pulling him down to her, refusing to let him go.

He wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t.

Though there was a nagging buzz in his head, one that told him he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be devouring this woman like the starving man he was, he ignored it. She was so fucking sweet, her mouth so eager, her hands… Goddamn, she was now touching him everywhere. The only thing separating the smoothness of her palms against his overheated skin was their clothes. If they weren’t in public, at a wedding, no less, he would quickly solve that problem.

Leyton had no idea how long they remained like that—him thrusting his tongue into her mouth, exploring depths he’d only dreamed about, and grinding his thigh against her pussy while he fought the urge to free his dick, slide her panties to the side, and impale her just to feel her warmth—but he hoped it never fucking ended.

The sound of a phone ringing close by should’ve been the warning he needed, but again, he couldn’t focus on anything more than the silky softness of Ashlynn’s tongue against his.

“What. The. Fuck?”

Shit! Max.

Leyton jerked away from Ashlynn, stumbling back a step before righting himself. Knowing what he’d see when he turned to look at his boss, Leyton wanted nothing more than to disappear into the floor. Since that wasn’t an option, he turned to face Max, finding him glaring back at them from a few feet away.

“Max, before—”