I fished my phone out of my purse and dialed Sadie’s number. She didn’t work on Saturdays, and I really needed to hear her voice.

She answered after a few rings and said, “You are out of your mind if you’re calling me before noon on the weekend!”

I grinned helplessly, unable to keep feeling sorry for myself. Sadie’s energy practically radiated out of my phone. She was always able to make me feel better. “Sorry,” I said. “Man emergency.”

“Man? Man emergency?” she said. I heard rustling in the background, and then she said, “I’m up. I’m making coffee. Tell me everything.”

I told her the whole story, minus a few intimate details. I told her about waking up in Carter’s bed that morning, and our awkward conversation over coffee, and the way he pushed me against the door of the car and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. I told her about how I was going to see him again the next day, and how it would be too easy to let myself fall into his orbit, and how I was scared.

“Oh girl,” she said, when I was finished. “You are so screwed.”

I nodded sadly, even though she couldn’t see me. I knew I was.

Chapter 8

I dressed up on Sunday.

I always dressed up for work, but that day I made a special effort. I wore the black wiggle dress that Sadie had strong-armed me into buying. My body was cut pretty straight up and down, but the dress hugged my body so snugly that it made me look like I had curves for days. I left my hair down and curled it at the ends to give it some extra volume and make it coil lushly over my shoulders. I sat at my mirror with liquid eyeliner and makeup remover until my winged liner looked the same on both sides. I even wore lipstick.

Examining my reflection in the full-length mirror, even I could admit that I looked hot.

It was my battle armor. I was going to tell Carter, in no uncertain terms, that it was over. I needed to look flawless and untouchable on the outside, because maybe then I would feel the same way on the inside.

Three separate men asked for my number on the subway, so maybe I didn’t look quite as untouchable as I’d hoped.

I got to the club only a few minutes before 4, and it was already bustling with waitresses and dancers. A few of the girls greeted me as I put down my things, but everyone was already so busy that nobody stopped to chat. That was fine with me. I wasn’t really in the mood for chatting.

The door to room 4 was slightly open. I went over and poked my head into the room. Carter was there, as I’d known he would be, but he wasn’t looking at his phone as he usually was. Instead, he was holding a glass of amber-colored liquid and gazing blankly at the wall.

I walked noiselessly into the room, my heels muffled by the thick carpet. I didn’t know what I was doing, or why, or what I was feeling. I could have stayed behind the bar and avoided Carter all night. But here I was, drawn to him inexorably, a moth beelining for the flame.

He turned his head as I entered his peripheral vision. For a moment, he stared at me the same way he’d been staring at the wall, devoid of all expression, but then he seemed to realize who had disturbed him, and smiled. “Regan. You’re here.”

“I told you I would be,” I said. I stood in front of him, hands clasped. “Are you having company tonight?” My heart hammered in my chest. I was determined not to let him see the effect he had on me. He already had too much power over me.

“Yes. They’ll be arriving shortly.” He leaned forward and looked at me intently. “Will you serve drinks for me tonight?”

I opened my mouth to tell him no, to tell him that I was going to keep my distance, that we shouldn’t spend more time together; but when I spoke, I heard myself saying, “I will.”

My own body had betrayed me. There was no going back.

I squeezed my hands together, bone digging into bone.

It was inevitable, really. I’d been kidding myself, pretending that I would be able to distance myself from Carter. I hadn’t dressed up tonight to protect myself; I’d done it so that he would look at me the way he was looking at me now, lids heavy, mouth curled to one side. I wanted him to approve of me.

He cocked his head to one side. “I wish I could tell what you’re thinking,” he said. “You watch everything, and you say so little. What are you thinking about, behind those dark eyes?”

Did he really think I never talked? He sounded like he didn’t think I had a personality. Most of our interactions had happened at the club, where I wasn’t supposed to be talkative. Annoyed, I said, “I’m an introvert. Is that okay with you?”

“Is that what it is? I thought you were just shy,” he said. “Go close the door.”

I obeyed without thinking, my heart beating faster just from thinking about why he might want privacy. The door was heavy, and made a solid, satisfying noise as I shut it and turned the bolt.

“No, don’t lock it,” he said.

I hesitated. “But—someone could come in.”

“That’s the idea,” he said.

I exhaled and unlocked the door. The thought of someone walking in on us was more arousing than it should have been. Public sex had never appealed to me, but Carter was bringing out my inner exhibitionist.

More accurately, he was bringing out my inner everything.

“Good,” he said, as the bolt audibly retracted into the door. “Now come here.”

I walked back over to him, swaying my hips deliberately as I placed my feet one in front of the other. The way he was looking at me made my mouth go dry. I stopped in front of him, between his spread legs, and planted my hands on my hips.

“That’s good,” he said. “Stay just like that and don’t move.”

I nodded, feeling heat gather between my legs. It still amazed me that Carter had this effect on me—that he could reduce to me gibbering arousal with a few commands and a meaningful look. He could overcome all of my reservations, make me break my own promises to myself, keep me waiting on his every word. No man should have that sort of power, but Carter did, and I was beholden to him.

He leaned forward in his seat and took the hem of my dress in both hands. Slowly, he dragged it up my thighs, up to my hips, and around my waist, his fingers skimming teasingly along my thighs as he went. I breathed through my mouth, shallowly, trying to keep my pulse even. I was glad I was wearing tights. Even with their protection, I still felt stripped to the bone.