Wicked Cravings (The Phoenix Pack #2)(23)
Author: Suzanne Wright

Dante had just sunk two balls, leaving only the eight ball, when Marcus came inside the game room eating a bag of chips. Glancing around, Marcus asked, “You guys haven’t seen Gabe, have you?” Like Dante, Trey, Trick, Tao, Nick, and his bodyguard, Derren, all shook their heads. Dante leaned down, getting himself in position to pot the black.

“He went out with the girls,” revealed Dominic.

Distracted, Dante missed the black completely. “Which girls?” Delighted that he now had the chance to pot the black first, Dominic smiled widely and bent over the pool table. He took his shot and then scowled at Dante when he scooped up the black, holding it hostage. “Hey!”

“Which. Girls?”

Dominic rolled his eyes. “Jaime, Shaya, and Hope.”

“Shaya?” echoed Nick, earning curious looks from everyone.

Dante demanded, “Where are they, Dominic?”

“Why, what’s the big deal?” But Dominic knew exactly what the big deal was. Dante wasn’t in the mood for his little “let’s see how far I can push my Beta” games right now.

“Where are they?”

Dominic sighed. “The Rouge Bar.”

Twenty minutes later, with Nick, Derren, Tao, Marcus, and Trick close behind, Dante edged through a mass of gyrating bodies. His eyes scanned the bar intently, searching diligently for the reason he was in this damn place. He didn’t much like it here. It seemed that there was always trouble at some point between packs.

When he reached the far corner of the dance floor, he stopped dead as a sight captivated every muscle in his body. A female moving so in sync with the music, like her entire self, right down to her soul, was attuned to the rhythm.

Jaime. Her slender figure was sensual, graceful, and spellbinding. As usual, the temptation to have her slithered over every inch of his skin, taunting him. No, haunting him.

And now his dick was getting hard.

“She’s hot, isn’t she?” said Marcus, following Dante’s gaze.

Trick frowned at Marcus. “You don’t do tall women.”

“I’d do her.”

“No one’s doing her.” Dante almost cringed at the command in his voice. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that the guys did this just to needle him; it was a regular thing. But damn if he could help reacting.

Tao’s lips curled in amusement. “You finally ready to stake a temporary claim, Dante? Come on, it’s obvious that you want her.”

“How about we just order our drinks?”

“So you’re telling me that we came all the way here and you’re not even going to approach her?”

“I’m just here to keep an eye on our females, that’s all. It’s my job. Gabe’s a submissive wolf; he can’t exactly protect them all.”

Each one of his enforcers gave him looks that said, “Do you really expect us to believe that?”

“Have you all forgotten about the Glory situation? Her brothers could be here, and if they are, they might feel happy to use our females to get to me.”

Trick cleared his throat. “D, sorry to disappoint, but it seems like the point’s moot anyway. It looks like a claim has already been staked on Jaime.”

At those words, Dante’s head snapped around and his eyes zoomed in on the broad male who was now pressing his chest against Jaime’s back with his hands settled on her hips. She turned her head, smiled, and settled herself more firmly against him. A menacing growl escaped Dante. Every cell in his body wanted nothing more than to charge over there and snatch her away. Only one thing stopped him, only one thing kept his infamous self-control from failing him—if he went over there now and did that, he would, in fact, be staking a temporary claim. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t get involved with any female from his pack. He wouldn’t.

But he could watch her, could make sure the dance was nothing more than that—a dance. He admitted to himself that if it looked as though things were getting more serious than that, there wasn’t much chance of him restraining himself from interfering.

As if Jaime sensed his heated gaze, her eyes landed on Dante. For a second they widened, and then she gave him a smile. It wasn’t a flirtatious smile or one filled with sexual promise, though. It was one of recognition, the kind you would give to someone you knew but didn’t bother your ass with; it was polite and warm, but quick to disappear.

Motherfucker.

Trick blew out a rough breath. “Looks like you lost your chance there, D.”

“Nah,” Tao disagreed. “I’d say if he went over there and broke them up before things got too heated between them, he might have a shot. Of course we know he’ll never do that.” Dante didn’t even spare the guys a glance. He knew they were playing with him, knew they were trying to make him act on what he wanted. He also knew that if that prick’s hand crept any nearer to her breast, he’d snap the damn thing off.

What the hell was Popeye doing here? Jaime knew he didn’t like this bar, so she had to conclude that the others had urged him to go along. She didn’t dare look over at him, not wanting to see some female slinking all over him. And that was exactly what she would see. It was what always happened.

It made her sick to her stomach every time.

Ignoring his eyes on her—and she knew without even looking that they were still on her, she could feel the weight of his gaze—she continued to dance with the jaguar shifter behind her. He was easily a foot taller than she was, which was evident by the fact that his erection was level with her back rather than her ass. From her peripheral vision, she could tell he was a good-looking guy.

Rugged. She liked that. She threaded her fingers through his ruffled dark hair, and yes, it was as incredibly soft as it looked.

He trailed his free hand up her outer thigh, skimming ever so slightly underneath her silky turquoise strapless dress. “You ever been with a jaguar before, wolf girl?” She shook her head. Jaguar shifters came highly recommended by Riley, she suddenly recalled.

“Good. You up for having some fun tonight?”

Was she ever. True, she’d rather it was with Dante, but the cocky ass didn’t want her, and if he wasn’t going to scratch her itch, somebody else would have to do it. Pining over him was just pathetic. If she carried on that way, she’d have nine cats before long. She was already on her way to spinsterhood if she counted Hunk.

“Jaime?” called Shaya.

The jag hissed loudly, warning away the female.