“I’ll go on back.”

Dane gets a weird look on his face, all wide eyes and arched eyebrows. “Hey,” he says. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Do you know what’s going on in there?”

One corner of my mouth twitches. He must think I’m afraid of a little cake and singing. “Sure. All fun and games. I’m secure in my masculinity.” I smirk at him.

He shakes his head, grinning. “You’re the man. Seriously.”

Someone calls his name across the bar, and he’s gone to take care of the customer.

At the back of the room, I hear chants and squeals. I can’t help but feel so proud of my sister for doing this for Harper. It’s surprising that a bunch of girls sound louder than a bunch of guys rallying for their favorite football team.

I turn the knob and walk inside, closing the door behind me. It’s a large banquet room, one that can host up to twenty-five people. The room is filled and there’s loud music playing from an iPod and speaker setup. A couple of women stand in front of me, but I’m a head taller so I can see clearly.

I shake my head, unsure that I’m not seeing things. There, at the opposite end of the room, is my Harper, on a platform stage with a Happy Birthday Girl crown on her head. And beside her? A shirtless guy in tight, white, sailor pants giving her a lap dance.

He removes her crown and replaces it with the fake naval cap he’s wearing. His hips gyrate so close to her face, it’s a miracle he’s not knocking her teeth out.

No. Hell, no. We are not playing Navy.

I push the girl in front of me aside and walk briskly past the ones trying to get a better look at the show.

“Take it off!” a female voice yells at me. My mouth tightens, and I shake my head.

Harper glances up and sees me. We lock eyes. There are a dozen women in the room and a very confident, half-naked dude, but in that moment, it’s just the two of us in the whole universe.

Navy realizes she’s not paying attention and places his fingers on her chin. He turns Harper’s head toward him. In a smooth move, Navy grabs her hand and rubs it down his oiled chest.

I make it to the stage and grab his hand in a strong hold to remove it from hers. “Off-limits.” The bass of the music is loud and I’m in his face. Navy doesn’t have to hear me. He reads my face. He nods amiably and dances his way back a foot, looking around for his next target.

Harper gives me a meek smile. “Leo.”

“Could I have a word with you?” I grab her hand.

Josie comes stomping onto the stage. “No, you don’t,” she yells. “You weren’t even supposed to be here yet.”

“I’m early,” I say, through gritted teeth. “You can take care of Navy here.”

I drag Harper behind me through the crowd of women who totally ignore me in favor of the stage. As I open the door to exit, I glance over my shoulder to see Josie dancing with the male stripper. I make a mental note to have a word with her later. Many words that I can’t repeat in public.

“Hey, I can’t leave my own party.” Harper drags her feet like a kid being hauled out of the grocery store after eating a handful of stolen candy.

I pay no attention to her protests and lead her straight to Dane’s office. I close the door behind me, making sure to turn the lock.

My head is crazy-full of thoughts that burn me. The image of Navy touching her—his hands on her and her gaze on him—of her wanting him… But I know I’m acting like a jealous boyfriend, and I have no right. I’ve told her we are only going to be friends.

But after today and the thing between us at the lake, I admit I’m a liar. I can’t be friends and nothing more.

It would be much easier if I could pretend it’s all physical.

Harper looks up at me and she’s still wearing that damned Navy cap. Her face is flushed and she’s breathing hard.

I remove the cap and toss it to the floor. “Having fun?” I ask in a low voice.

“I…uh…was. It’s the first birthday party anyone’s ever thrown for me. And that guy was embarrassing but funny. Don’t be mad at Josie. She was trying to make this night special. Fun.”

My jealously dissipates, fizzling out like unknotted balloon. I am an ass. I step toward her. The birthday girl doesn’t deserve to be yanked out of her party by a lunatic. I’ll make it up to her. “What if I give you a private dance?”

“Sure. If you think you’re up for it.” Her words challenge me. She cocks one eyebrow and grins.

Dane’s office is small with a desk and his chair behind it. I move to an imaginary beat, stepping toward her with each small movement of my hips. I grab her hips and move her body with mine. She closes her eyes and joins my rhythm.

Our bodies pull toward each other until we’re touching. I dance her to the edge of Dane’s desk and put my hands on her waist. She’s easy to lift onto the desk. My hands linger on her waist.

I keep dancing to the beat and move between her legs. She’s wearing a short, silky dress that rides higher as I push my body into the space. My hands skate down her bare thighs. Harper shivers. She closes her eyes and her head falls back.

Her reaction heats me like a human blowtorch. I’m heating her skin with each touch of my hands. She’d better not be thinking of Navy guy.

“Look at me.” My voice grates husky and low. I’m not even sure she hears me.

Then, her eyes flutter open, the pupils dark and dilated. She runs the tips up her tongue across her lips.

I still move to a beat, but bend my head to lightly kiss those soft, wet lips. “Happy birthday.”

One corner of her mouth tips. “Thanks,” she whispers.

The sound of live music from the front of Dastardly’s bleeds into the back room. The hard rock guitar riff fits my mood. Reckless.

I trail my finger down Harper’s throat, down the opening of her shirt, down to hem of the dress that’s riding up to frame her thighs indecently.

“What…” She trails off when my fingers brush against her inner thighs inside the hem of the dress.

“Shh…” I grin and never break eye contact with her.

There’s a pulse throbbing in her throat that’s probably in time to the throb in my pants. I rub a finger to the edge of her panties.

Harper drops her forehead onto my chest. I can feel her breathing quicken. It hitches when I squeeze her bare thigh with one hand. My other continues to tease, my fingers stroking along the silky fabric.

“Want this?” I ask.

She nods against my chest.

“Say, ‘Please, Leo. I want this for my birthday.’” I tease her with the press of one finger against the damp fabric.

“Yes, please, Leo.” Her head’s still down on my chest, and she places both hands on my shirt. Her fingers curl into the fabric.

I move the crotch of her panties aside and stroke the tender flesh. I rest my finger at her entrance and kiss the top of her hair. “Want more?”

She nods and attempts to pull me closer. There’s no way to get closer unless I’m inside her. And even though that’s what I want, I restrain myself. This is a present for her, not me.

I slowly push my finger inside her and she squirms on the edge of the desk. I add a second finger and she gasps.

“Too much?” I say while continuing to pump my fingers in a rhythm.

She lifts her chin and looks at me wild-eyed. Frantically shaking her head as if she’s afraid I’ll abandon her.

I bend and slant my lips against hers. She’s hungry for me. Her tongue thrusts into my mouth immediately. I suck on it and she moans. The sound is edgy, wounded, needy.

I love it.

My free hand moves to the top of her panties. I should’ve ripped these off her by now, but I risk insanity at the thought of her going back into the bar without them.

I continue to pulse inside her opening with one hand and my other dips down into her panties from the top, skims the sensitive flesh it seeks, finds her sweet spot. I rub once with my thumb, and she jolts against me.