And last night revealed that she’d had no frickin’ clue.

Every spark of desire she’d ever experienced in her life—they were nothing compared to the wicked sensations Gage Holt had evoked in her.

If you come back, I won’t be able to control myself next time.

His deep voice rasped in her head, making a shiver dance up her spine. She really hoped he’d meant every word.

Because she was definitely holding him to that.

…

“Where’s AJ?” Gage glanced around Reed’s office, confused by AJ Walsh’s absence. Their third partner never missed a Friday night briefing.

“He took the night off,” Reed answered. “He’s got plans with the girlfriend.”

Gage rolled his eyes. “You can say her name, man. She’s not Voldemort, you know.”

“Christ. Your boy-wizard references freak me out, bro. Cage fighters aren’t allowed to read Harry Potter.”

“I’m a bouncer, not a cage fighter.” He couldn’t mask his frustration, but rerouted the subject before his friend dived into another lecture about how he was the one who’d willingly put himself in his current predicament. “Anyway, her name is Darcy, and one of these days you’re gonna have to suck it up and be nice to her.”

Reed looked hurt. “I am nice to her.” His dark blue eyes flickered with worry. “Why, did she say I wasn’t?”

“No, but I’m sure she’s noticed you never string together more than a sentence or two when she’s around.”

Reed’s body language revealed discomfort, and Gage glimpsed something in his friend’s eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher. Before he could say anything more, Reed promptly shifted gears.

“Let’s get the business shit out of the way—do you have a lead on who’s pushing E in the club?”

“Nope. You?”

Reed rounded the desk and flopped down in his leather chair, raking both hands through his messy black hair. “No clue. Are the guys keeping their eyes open?”

Gage nodded. “Nobody’s seen a thing.”

“And yet we’ve talked to dozens of people who claim they bought the stuff right here in the club.” Reed ground out an expletive. “We need to find this ass**le.”

Gage shared his partner’s anger. With the number of people who packed the club on a nightly basis, it was impossible to stop customers from coming in with a few lines of coke or some tablets of E, not unless they thoroughly searched everyone at the door. Which meant they had no choice but to tolerate some drugs floating around Sin. But someone selling the stuff directly from the club was a big fat no-no. The cops would shut them down in a heartbeat, and Gage wasn’t about to lose the hefty profits the club brought in.

“I’ll tell the guys to be extra alert tonight,” he said, sinking into the armchair across from the desk. “Once we figure out who the dealer is, it’ll be easy to put him out of commission.”

“Good.” Reed grabbed a pack of Camels from the desk and lit a cigarette, then proceeded to blow a cloud of smoke in Gage’s direction.

He winced, trying not to inhale. “You just have to flaunt it in my face, don’t you? I’m trying to quit, ass**le.”

“You’ve been trying to quit for two years.”

“This time it’ll stick.”

“Ha. Sure.” His friend suddenly broke out in a grin. “Hey, so when can I expect the deets about your lady friend? You know, the one you almost boned in the alley yesterday?”

He stifled a sigh. It had been too much to hope that Reed wouldn’t bring it up. “It was nothing,” he mumbled.

Reed smirked. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Well, it was.”

Liar.

All right, so maybe it had been the furthest thing from nothing. Maybe he’d stayed awake half the night thinking about Skyler. Maybe he’d jerked off three times before the arousal had finally dissipated, and even then, it still lingered under the surface, waiting for any opportunity to rear up again.

But he didn’t regret sending her away. If she didn’t have the word “relationship” written on her forehead in huge block letters, he might’ve given in and taken her to bed, but he got the feeling she was the kind of girl who wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than a commitment. Well, Gage didn’t do commitments. He wasn’t cut out for relationships—past experience had proved that—and he wasn’t about to risk breaking another heart.

Women like Skyler deserved better than a breathless, hurried screw outside a nightclub, and besides, she was only twenty-four, which made her way too young for him. Not that he was an old man at the ripe age of thirty, but Lord, he felt that way sometimes. Felt like he’d lived ten lifetimes already.

“Fine, I’ll drop it,” Reed said. “Just know that I wholeheartedly approve of last night or any future nights you might spend with your mystery girl. It was kinda hard to tell from a security feed, but she looked hot.”

Gage rolled his eyes again. Of course Reed approved. Hot was the only requirement the guy had for hooking up, with temporary coming in at a close second. Reed was a player to the core, and had been from the moment Gage met him, back when they were two punk-ass teenagers growing up in South Boston. They’d both dreamed of becoming professional MMA fighters, though Gage’s style leaned toward boxing while Reed was an out-and-out brawler, not above fighting dirty. And they’d both retired at the same time, taking the cash they’d earned over the years to open the club.