Meet Your Match (Kings of the Ice, #1)(34)

At one point, I noticed Vince saying something to one of his teammates. The next moment, that teammate was walking over to introduce himself to me, to sit and talk and make sure I wasn’t left alone.

I wondered if he’d done that all night, if he was the reason I hadn’t had a spare moment to feel out of place.

It made my chest hurt in a way I wasn’t familiar with, to think he cared about me, that he wanted to make sure I had a good time.

But it also put all my defenses up.

I hated that. I hated that even when someone was doing something nice for me, I had this devil in the back of my mind telling me it was all a farce. I couldn’t trust Vince, or anyone who I felt was bred from a different cloth.

James had done that to me.

I wondered if that damage could ever be undone.

But then I remembered what my therapist had said — that trauma response was good for us. It kept us safe. It kept us from repeating a mistake, and thus the pain that came with it. It showed us red flags when we used to ignore them or make excuses for them.

I was glad I had my guard up. It was a sure-fire way not to get hurt again.

The night went on.

Every now and then, one of the guys from the team would invite women from the crowd behind the ropes. They danced with some of them, pulling their barely covered asses into their laps as they swayed to the beat. Others, they tugged into a corner to make out with, wasting no time.

I took photos and videos from my corner when the moment felt right, mostly when Vince was goofing around and smiling that megawatt smile of his. But as the night dragged on, I felt less and less inclined to stay — especially when the heavy bass of the music seemed to thrum like a heartbeat between the players and the girls who were desperate for their attention.

“Dance with me.”

I was in a daze when the request came, and I glanced up, finding Vince smiling a drunken smile down at me. His hair fell into his view a moment before he ran a hand back through it, styling the messy waves with just that motion. His pouty lips were curled slightly at the corners, his eyes glazed and dangerously inviting.

He held out a hand for mine.

“Oh… I’m okay,” I said.

He cocked a brow. “You’ve been sitting there all night. Come on,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “Dance with me.”

There was a dare in his eyes, and if I gave in to the way my heart raced at the way he watched me, I would have slid my hand into his and let him lead me onto the floor.

But where this was a night out celebrating for him, it was a job for me.

Things were going better than I’d ever imagined. Reya and Camilla were ready to hand me anything I wanted if I continued to pull this off. And nothing mattered more to me than remaining professional — which dancing with the devil disguised as Vince Tanev would make very difficult to do.

“I’m really okay,” I said again, offering a small smile.

Vince looked a little disappointed as he dropped his hand, but it lasted only a moment before he shrugged. He refreshed his drink and sucked half of it down with his eyes still on me.

“Suit yourself,” he said.

He disappeared back into the crowd just as easily as he’d popped out of it, and I watched him go, checking the time on my watch as I blew out a breath.

It was almost three in the morning.

I looked around at the crowd, which despite the hour, only seemed to be thickening. I slid my purse onto my shoulder and decided I would make my way back to the condo to get some much-needed sleep.

But when I looked for Vince to tell him I was heading out, I found him just in time to watch him pluck two women from the crowd dancing outside the ropes.

He pulled them in, security fastening the barrier back in place as soon as they were at his side. One of the girls was tan and tall and lean, with platinum blonde hair and a perfect heart-shaped ass. The other was tall, too, but was a creamy pale, shaped like an hourglass, with short brown hair and a mouth like Angelina Jolie.

The women encircled Vince once they were behind the ropes, sandwiching him between them, and all three of them began to move to the beat of the music thumping through the club. The women draped their arms over him like he was theirs — not even a hint of hesitation, or a single thought that he wouldn’t want them to.

My heart stopped in my chest, and then kicked back hard, racing faster and faster as I watched them.

I watched the blonde trail her nail up Vince’s arm, over his neck, until she dragged it along his chin and guided his mouth toward hers. She didn’t kiss him, just held him there, where he had no choice but to look at her as she stared back at him and moved her body against him.

Her body that he moved his hands to hold, to feel as she rolled to the music.

The brunette danced to the other side of him, straddling his leg with her thighs as she tugged at the collar of his shirt for his attention. When the blonde kept it, the brunette licked his neck before biting down.

Even from across the room, I saw Vince hiss, saw a smile curl on his lips as he turned to face her, and she grinned at the victory.

I was rooted in place.

Like a masochist, I watched it all unfold with my stomach bottoming out.

A front-row show to Boomer Bunnies in action.

And when both women started kissing on his neck, Vince looked up at the sky on a curse.

Then, he looked directly at me.

His eyes were dark and mischievous, locked on mine as the girls battled with each other for who could make him unravel the quickest. But he wasn’t smiling anymore, and he wasn’t giving either of them what they wanted.