“I wish I didn’t want you so much,” she hissed, the words cutting her throat. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes blazing, his lips rising in the barest of a cocky grin—the one that had always melted her. The effect was as potent as ever. It seared her body.

“How much do you want me?” he asked.

“More than I should.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Want me,” he said, speaking the words like a command. But he didn’t have to tell her that—she was already there. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She curled her legs around his hips. She crossed her ankles against his hard, firm ass.

“I do.” She barely wanted to speak the words. But she didn’t want to deny this desire. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “And I want you to say you’re sorry the way you used to. The way you did when we fought before.”

He froze. Then, his eyes floated shut briefly. When he opened them, he picked her up and lifted her onto the bar. “Stay right here,” he growled.

She watched as he quickly stalked across the quiet, cavernous nightclub to the front door, making sure it was locked. He returned to her, placed his hands on her face, and said, “There’s no one else here. Unzip your jeans.”

She bit her lip, lust thrumming through her body. She opened the top button, slid down the zipper, and pushed her tight dark jeans to her thighs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he stared between her legs. Her panties were pale pink and completely soaked through with her desire.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, seductively.

He swallowed thickly, and breathed out hard. “You know I fucking love it.”

“How much?”

He peeled her jeans down to her heels. She kicked off her shoes, then he pulled them off the rest of the way, tossing them on the floor. He groaned as he roamed his eyes over her legs. He brushed his lips across her left ankle and she shivered, then he licked a path up her calf. His mouth on her skin was divine. It was rightness returning to the universe.

But he stopped, standing up and grasping her chin in his hand. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want,” she whispered.

“And you know I want you to say it. Say the words.”

Her eyes met his. “Touch me. Taste me. Eat me.”

“More,” he said as he held her face. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Brent,” she moaned, writhing on the counter, the ache between her legs threatening to take over her mind, to devour her reason.

“You know it turns me on when you say it,” he said, grabbing her hand with his free hand and guiding her to his crotch. She gasped as she palmed his erection. So thick and long.

“Fuck me with your tongue,” she whispered, and he throbbed even through the denim. “Please, Brent. Fuck me with your tongue.”

In a blur, he moved, his hands circling her ankles. Then her feet were up on the counter, her knees raised, and she was spread wide for him. His face was right there, his breath ghosting over her panties, his mouth so close to her slick heat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Say it again.”

“I’m so incredibly sorry.”

“Show me.”

“I’ll show you any time, babe,” he said, using the term of endearment he’d used before, and it melted her. She burned hot when he flicked his finger against her clit. She cried out in pleasure. “Take these off for me. Take off your panties and show me how much you want me, too.”

She slid off the underwear and threw them on the floor. His eyes glazed over as he stared hungrily between her legs. “You haven’t stopped wanting me at all,” he said, as he ran one finger through her center, and she lifted her hips, seeking out contact.

“I haven’t,” she murmured. “I still get off to you.”

“You have no idea how much I think about you.”

“Tell me,” she said, her voice needy, her body seeking confirmation.

He stroked his index finger through her slippery wetness. “I jack off to this beautiful sight. I picture you dancing for me, stripping for me, and driving me crazy until you finally let me taste your sweetness,” he said, as he kissed the inside of her thigh. “I bet you taste like heaven,” he murmured.

“Find out.”

He dived in and she moaned—a long, loud cry that carried through the club. Pleasure rippled through her instantly. He kissed, he licked, and he sucked. He adored her pussy with his sinful mouth. She threw her head back, gazing at the ceiling, as she took his forgiveness. She savored it, letting him worship her the way he always had.

“Do I taste as good as you remember?”

“Better,” he said, breaking contact to answer her. “You are the best thing I’ve ever had. The only thing better is the way you taste when you come.”

“Oh God,” she said, words swallowed up by sensation as her body took over. He licked her mercilessly, his wicked tongue stroking her heat, sending her soaring, flying into a world of absolute bliss.

She trembled from head to toe. She burst with pleasure so intense it blotted out everything but his touch. She arched her back, lifted her hips, and rocked into him in a frenzy.

He’d always said that going down on her was like being fucked, too. That she’d get so into it, and it drove him wild. Her reactions, the way she moved her hips and grabbed his hair truly made it a face fucking, and he’d craved it just as much as she had. The evidence, the proof of how she loved his touch lay in the way she moved under his mouth.

“Shan, do that. Fucking go crazy,” he told her, and she was right there with his command, thrusting wildly, writhing and wriggling as he groaned and consumed her pleasure with his mouth.

Stars circled her head. The earth fell out of orbit. The sky split open.

She grabbed his hair, screaming in pleasure, calling out his name, as she came on his tongue.

* * *

That had gone better than he’d expected.

Better than his fantasies. And while he’d had countless dreams about her sweet pussy, he’d never dreamed that today his face would get reacquainted with his favorite location in the entire universe.

He scooped her soft, warm body into his arms. She was practically glowing, and masculine pride burst in his chest. “I was right. You are perfection,” he whispered in her ear.

She purred. At least, she made a sound that suggested utter contentment. He kissed her cheek. “Am I forgiven?”

She laughed, the sound so high it rang through his empty club.

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brow, as she pulled on jeans and shoes.

She took the scarf off her neck, wrapped it around him once, and held the ends. She looked him square in the eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than one orgasm for that to happen.” She glanced at the scarf. “And that’s why I’m leaving this behind. So you can find me again.”

Then she walked out.

CHAPTER NINE

A patron sloshed beer on a table in the front row. Some dude snapped a photo with his cell phone camera from the back. A waitress circled through the tables carrying a tray, expertly dispensing beverages to meet the two-drink minimum.

Bob’s Beer Haven and Comedy Club in Soho didn’t change its rules when Brent stopped by. The dimly lit comedy club off Spring Street had a been-here-for-years vibe, a low stage, and merely adequate acoustics. The crowd didn’t show up for the ambiance—they came there because the owner was known for his taste. Over the years, Bob had scouted and promoted some of the leading up-and-coming comedic talent, who went on to big careers. Damn shame that the landlord had just jacked up the rent astronomically—quadrupling it, so Bob was shutting down operations soon, and the location had been leased to a chain restaurant.

Brent and Bob had a long history; the guy had booked him for a few sets at a Los Angeles comedy club when Brent was working on Late Night Antics. Those club gigs had led to bigger ones that had helped Brent to grow his reputation in the entertainment business.