Play with Me

Damn. She was tormenting him. His sexy pilot had claws much sharper than this intoxicated little cat who was still trying to use his thigh as a scratching post and, now, his neck as a lump of catnip.

He should have been annoyed—he’d never liked women who played games. But somehow, as his heart started thudding hard against his rib cage and all his blood again rushed to his cock, he realized he was incredibly excited by Amanda Bauer instead.

Their stares locked, intense and hot. She licked her lips, and Steve tugged her closer, as if he’d almost felt that sweet, wet tongue. But her attention wasn’t on Steve, it was entirely on Reese. Her eyes sparkled, as if she knew he was torn between wanting to laugh at her for trying to make him jealous or pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and out-caveman the guy in the loincloth.

Reese lifted a questioning brow, silently asking her how far she was going to take this. In response, she leaned toward Steve’s ear and whispered something. The other man froze, dropping his arms and watching as Amanda turned away from him. She eased through the crowd, winding a path across the dance floor, heading toward a back hallway that led to the restrooms. A number of men turned to watch her go, and she earned more than a few glares from their dates. Just before she slipped down the short hallway, she cast one more glance over her shoulder. Her half smile taunted Reese, daring him to follow.

Reese spun the horny little cat around and pushed her toward the still-frozen Steve, who appeared almost shell-shocked. When he met Reese’s eyes, he flushed, then mumbled, “Sorry, man.”

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