“Um . . . yeah, I guess he does.” They didn’t bother her though. In fact, they seemed to suit him and make him seem that much more real and vulnerable. His unbreakable spirit and amazing body made him seem intimidating and indestructible. The damaged cartilage around his ears was a sign he wasn’t as bulletproof as he appeared. Or wanted to believe he was.

Ally applied the blue undertone makeup and several drips of red bloodlike paste around Parker’s mouth and turned her around to face the mirror. “Ta-da! The undead.”

“Wow!” Parker smiled at her ghoulish face. “This is amazing.”

“That’s why I get paid the big bucks,” Ally said with a grin, admiring her work over Parker’s shoulder. “This is airbrushed on, so it should last throughout the evening as long as you don’t make out too much.” She winked. “I haven’t tested its ability to withstand club bathroom sex.”

Parker’s smile faded as her pulse soared. Club bathroom sex. The memory of the bulge in Tyson’s shorts earlier that day at the mere mention of lingerie made her smile return. Huh, maybe it was time to find out just how good this makeup really was. “I’ll let you know,” she said, dropping her robe to reveal the red and black bustier and stockings she wore. “What do you think?”

Ally grabbed the silver and black feather boa that funny enough she’d found in the back of her closet and draped it around Parker’s neck and over one shoulder. “Perfect.”

Turning toward the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom, Parker studied the risqué costume, momentarily nervous. Sure, she’d worn less than this on sets, but out in public at a Las Vegas nightclub full of people? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure it was such a great idea. She was trying to recharge her career with this serious indie film . . .

She shook it off. It was Halloween. The one night every year women are allowed to dress like whores and with all this makeup, she doubted anyone would even recognize her.

Besides, now that the seed had been planted, she was really desperate to find out if club bathroom sex was really all that.

*   *   *

“Where are your costumes?”

Walker and Grace stared at him, mouths open, wearing matching shocked expressions but definitely no zombie burlesque attire.

“Um . . .” Grace started but as a laugh escaped her, she turned and buried her face in Walker’s shoulder.

Tyson glared at his fighter. “What the fuck, Walker?” He glanced around the crowded new nightclub, decorated in black, red, and silver, illuminated only by thousands of battery-powered flameless candles. No one else was dressed like the undead or in burlesque clothing.

“Sorry, man. When I said it was Zombie Burlesque themed, I thought you knew it was just the entertainment that would be wearing it.” Walker suppressed a laugh as he took in the costume. “Wow, you really went all-out.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “I could kill you right now.”

Walker held up his hands. “Hey, it could be worse. You could be dressed like one of the women.”

Shit.

Grabbing his phone, he texted Parker. He’d offered to pick her up but she said she had something to do first and she’d meet him there.

Have you left your house yet?

After hitting send, he waited, praying she was running late. Otherwise, she was going to want to hurt him more than he wanted to hurt Walker at that moment.

Just getting out of a taxi outside the hotel entrance. Be there in five. came her reply a second later.

Damn. Well, there was no saving her from the embarrassment now. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.

Rushing out of the club, he sprinted toward the front of the hotel, catching her just as she reached the revolving door.

His mouth gaped at the sight of her in a short silk shiny robe that did little to hide the sexy red-and – black lingerie beneath. His eyes slid the length of her body taking in everything but air as he scanned the six inch platform heels, the fishnet stockings that rose to meet a silver garter belt on her right leg and the sexy-as-all-hell lingerie.

She looked drop-dead gorgeous.

At least from the neck down. Once his gaze reached her made up zombie-fied face, he snapped out of the trance and rushed forward. “Hi,” he said removing the tattered, fake bloodstained suit jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh . . . okay . . . Wow, that makeup is insane,” he said, losing his train of thought and courage as he stared at her.

“Tyson.”

“Right. Don’t freak out,” he said, holding her shoulders.

Her eyes widened. “In other words, freak out,” she said, her dark eyes still pulling him in and making him want to kiss her, despite the seriously ugly makeup. “What is it?”

“When Walker told me about this, he didn’t mention it was only the entertainment dressing up for the party,” he said quickly.

Realization dawned on her face. “You mean we are the only two people dressed up?” She scanned him. “And you barely look dressed up . . . Oh my God.” She pulled his jacket tighter around herself.

“I’m sorry. Trust me, I am going to beat the shit out of Walker.” He ran a hand over his head. “Anyway, let’s get out of here.” Grace would understand. He couldn’t ask Parker to go inside the club dressed like that. And he couldn’t hide the fact part of him also wanted to get her alone—a big part of him.

But as he led her toward the doors, she let out a deep breath and hesitated. “Wait.”

“Huh?”

“Does it really matter? It is Halloween, and at least the entertainment will be dressed like this. I think we should just go for it,” she said with a shrug.

The fact that she was being so incredibly cool about it made him want to drag her out of there even more . . . take her someplace quiet, dark where he could get a better look at that costume.

Suddenly, he didn’t want to share the view with all of the guests inside the nightclub. He moved toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “How good is this makeup? Can I kiss you without eating it?”

Her cheeks flushed despite the paled-out face and she glanced downward.

He titled her chin back up. “What was that?”

She swallowed. “Nothing.” Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her body into him and whispered, “I had been planning on testing it out in the bathroom.”

Fuck me. His grip tightened on her and he was sure she could feel his cock pressing against the constraints of the polyester fabric, but she freed herself and headed toward the nightclub entrance. “Let’s go.”

He watched her hips sway as she strode away from him.

And he followed. Because honestly, he would follow that ass anywhere.

*   *   *

“I can’t believe she stayed,” Grace said when they joined them back in the club a few minutes later, a look of admiration and respect on her face as Parker disappeared through the crowd toward the bathroom.

Seeing the unconcealed looks of interest of the men watching her as she passed, Tyson resisted the urge to follow and punch a few guys out. He kept watching to make sure no one laid a finger on her—otherwise all bets were off. “Yeah, me neither,” he said distractedly.

“I can’t believe you invited her,” Walker said, sipping his drink.

Tyson pointed at him. “Don’t start, man. You’re already on my shit list.”

Walker shrugged. “I’m just wondering what’s going on with you two. Since you started training her, we are all just waiting for the day you two start doing more than just grappling inside the cage.”

Was their attraction to each other that obvious? He’d been hoping to keep whatever was happening out of the gym and away from nosy eyes. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just hanging out.”

“Right . . . because the last time you hung out with a woman, you hadn’t reached puberty yet,” Walker said.

Tyson turned to Grace. “Help me out here before your fiancé gets knocked out.”