The song ended and another one started. It had a faster tempo, but she and Mr. Rough Around the Edges didn’t break apart or pick up the pace.

“You got any place to be later?” he said against her ear.

Did she?

She wasn’t so sure anymore. She glanced over to where Deacon and the hottie with the rack had been earlier. She’d purposely not looked since he’d found his new friend. Just seeing him with someone else shredded her. They were gone.

She sucked in a pained breath. God, she was such an idiot.

Gripping his shoulders, she went up on her tiptoes, and her dance partner bent down close so he could hear her. “Sorry, this was really nice, but…”

Strong hands gripped her upper arms, pulling her back and spinning her around. Deacon’s furious gaze came into focus. “Let’s go.”

The guy she’d been dancing with stepped forward. “You all right, babe?”

Deacon turned to him, and she could see his fists clench and unclench at his sides. “Turn around and back the hell off while you still can.”

Holy shit. Alex stepped between them, planting a hand on Deacon’s chest. The muscles bunched hard as stone beneath her palm. She’d never seen him this angry before, this close to the edge of his control. It kind of freaked her out. It also, surprisingly—and inappropriately—turned her the hell on. “I’m fine. Thanks for the dances.” She didn’t hear the other guy’s response because Deacon was dragging her through the bar. “Where’s Rusty and Piper?”

“Dancing.” He turned to her. “Don’t worry, Alex, they didn’t see us.”

Was that bitterness in his tone?

She expected him to take her out into the street, but instead he dragged her down a corridor at the back of the club, and pulling a key out of his pocket, unlocked a door and led her inside a small office. It was dark, the only light streaming in through a frosted glass window on the other side of the room, the fluorescent sign beyond casting them in a blue wash.

“How did you get that key?”

He shut the door and pushed her against it, staring down at her, gaze fierce, blazing hot. Her breathing came faster, harder. A rush of heat, of pure lust, pumped though her veins, heady, exciting. She fisted his shirt on either side of his waist. “Deke…”

“I’m tired of playing games with you.”

He ground the hard length of his erection into her, and despite the anger, the confusion, she wanted him, wanted him so bad she shook from it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Were you going to screw that guy? Or were you just trying to piss me off?”

Her anger flared. “I assumed since you’d already found a friend, then so could I,” she threw back.

“Jealous?”

“No.” Liar.

“I warned you. No one touches you but me.”

A shiver of pleasure, of anticipation moved through her body. She tried to push him back, but they both knew her heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t budge.

His expression went from pissed to hard control in an instant. Mr. Chill was back, and for the first time, she didn’t want that side of him in the driver’s seat when he touched her. She didn’t want to disconnect, didn’t want him to make this easier on her. No, this time she wanted the fire, the heat, and God help her, the emotion…she wanted everything.

Then his fingers were in her hair and his thigh went between her legs, and though she recognized the hard persona, the cold businessman who demanded obedience, this was a Deacon she had yet to be introduced to. Because despite the cool exterior, his eyes blazed hot. That intense gaze told a different story all together.

This Deacon was wild—determined.

Firm, warm lips tickled the side of her neck, sucked the delicate skin there, and he pressed his thigh more firmly between her legs. “I’m going to fuck you now, Alex.”

A whimper was all the reply she could manage, and his dark chuckle told her he knew exactly how much she wanted him. That all the attitude and resistance had been for show, a way to protect herself, and right then she didn’t have the strength to fight it, to pretend this wasn’t what she wanted as well.

Strong fingers dug into her inner thigh, then moved higher. The sound of her panties being torn from her body came next. Cool air hit her overheated flesh, and she moaned like a B-grade porn star when he slid his fingers through the drenched folds. She moved her hips like a cock-starved nymphomaniac trying to get those fingers where she wanted them most.

Deacon made a rough sound against her throat. “You’re soaked, so hungry for my cock.” His fingers did another up-and-back through her slick, quivering flesh. “Desperate to feel me thrusting between these pretty lips.”

She was. She was desperate to have him inside her. He kept up with the torment, his other hand massaging her aching breasts, pinching and tugging her piercing. Right then, she could easily come from that alone.

“Undo my jeans. I need inside that hot little body.” His voice was low, full of hunger, barely restrained.

It was a command, demanding her acceptance, and sent another rush of heat between her thighs. She slid her hands between their bodies, and with trembling fingers, popped the button. Dragging down the zipper, she pushed his jeans and boxers low enough to free his straining hard-on.

His fingers dug into her thighs as he roughly shoved her skirt up around her hips. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

That was all he said before he pinned her to the wall, positioned his cock, and slammed deep inside her. She gasped at the intrusion, the feeling of fullness, of being taken. She was under no illusion that this was anything more than fucking of the most down and dirty variety. And that’s exactly what she wanted.

Deacon hissed when he slid out then thrust back inside her. “Is this what you wanted?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent sentence if she tried.

“You wanted to feel my cock deep inside you? Pounding into you?” He nipped her earlobe again, sucked the tender skin there. “Answer me,” he whispered harshly.

“Y-yes.”

He reared back, but there was no triumph like she’d expected, just raw animal need. He took her mouth then, and they ate at each other like they were starved. Tongues thrusting in time to Deacon’s thrusting hips slamming into hers.

He didn’t hold back, fucking her against the wall, using his strength to shove her higher, then slamming her down on his cock with every short, deep, jarring thrust. He rode her hard, so hard it was impossible to catch her breath, giving them what they both needed. Then he placed a hand on her hip, fingers digging into her flesh, holding her immobile, and looked down between their bodies, watching as he slid in and out of her.

“Ah, shit. Fuck,” he rasped. Then he seemed to snap, pinning her back against the wall. He pressed his face against her throat, his whiskered jaw rough against her skin, holding her so tightly she could do nothing but take it, take what he gave her. The only sounds in the room were Deacon’s grunts and her wanton moans begging him for more.

Tightening her arms around his wide shoulders, she held on as her building orgasm reached its peak and slammed through her body, ripples of pleasure radiating from her center to the tips of her toes. She cried out, digging her nails into his back as he fucked her through it. He kept going until she felt the next one start to build. Deacon stiffened, muscles going rock solid, then he planted deep inside her, hips moving with shallow, grinding thrusts as he came, and she went over again, with him this time.

When his breathing slowed, he kissed the damp skin between her shoulder and neck, traced her jaw, and took her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that curled her toes.

He said against her mouth, “I love how hungry you are for me.”

She didn’t bother denying it, was done fighting him. What was the point? She wanted this, wanted whatever he could give her in the time they had left. There was no way to guard her heart, she knew that now. When the time came and he walked, it would hurt like hell, but she would get over it. She had to. Until then, she’d enjoy every damn minute. “I hope you have plenty of stamina.”