In a black bespoke suit jacket, white shirt partially unbuttoned, and lounging on a bar stool, the stranger looked relaxed, but entirely dominated the surrounding space. The garments clung impeccably to his muscular shoulders, chest, and thighs, enhancing but not hiding his powerful build. In the strobing lights of the nightclub, a hint of dark scruff shadowed his strong jaw, and the slightest turn of his lips suggested the start of a smile.

Yet his commanding gaze remained intent on me, like the coiled tension of a cat waiting to pounce, and I his prey. Heat climbed my throat and face, and I found myself shifting in my seat.

But I couldn't drag my eyes away.

In languid movements, he rose and my heart stopped. His face revealed alternatively in light, then shadow, he prowled towards me. With a curved scar on one cheek that rose to crease one eyebrow, he wasn't beautiful or perfect, but handsome in an entirely masculine way. Power and danger bled from him. His eyes were black pools, dark and mysterious, with thick lashes adding to his sensual appeal. My fingertips itched with the desire to thread my fingers through the soft, wavy midnight locks tousled in careless perfection. That impulse to reach for the wild animal, despite knowing it might be lethal.

As he drew close, butterflies took flight within my innards and my breath quickened. I pressed a hand to my belly. To keep myself from blurting something foolish, I took a long drink, draining more than half my glass. God, I wanted to run the cool glass on my forehead, and let the condensation wet my skin. I was burning up.

"May I buy you a drink? A martini, is it?" His low voice shivered over my senses like a physical caress.

I licked my lips, trying to find the spit to answer in a mouth gone completely dry. "Yes." My voice emerged in a husky whisper.

He lifted a hand, and the server appeared. "Please bring her another martini, and a scotch for me."

"Of course, Mr. Deabru. Another spicy pineapple martini and twenty-five-year Glenfarclas single malt," she confirmed and left at his nod.

Yet still, he'd continued to hold my gaze. He was tall, easily over six feet, and towered over me.

He held out his hand. "I'm Paz Deabru."

With trepidation, I put my much smaller hand in his. "Anna Latifi."

His fingers closed over mine, thumb caressing my skin once, twice, then he lifted my hand to kiss my fingers. My breath caught. Feather-soft, his lips barely brushed me, yet a wave of gooseflesh rose on my body.

"It's lovely to meet you, Anna. May I join you?" His free hand indicated the stool on his side of the table.

I swallowed, then managed to squeak, "Yes."

He released my hand, placing it gently on the table as he sat. Somehow, I hadn't expected such care in his touch when he radiated an aura of wealth, power, sophistication, and danger. Yes, this man could definitely be lethal, but I hadn't yet decided whether it was literal, or simply to women's panties everywhere. There was certainly no ring, nor tan line on his finger, but a Rolex on his wrist and the quality of his clothes spoke volumes.

"So what is it you like about spicy pineapple martinis, Anna?"

His voice was liquid sin, sliding over my flesh and pooling in my abdomen. It took me a minute to process his question. Fortunately, the server arrived with our drinks, giving me a few more minutes to recollect my scattered brains.

"The combination of sweet and spicy heat. What do you like about scotch?"

A slow lifting of one side of his mouth had me mesmerized. "Why don't you try my scotch and tell me what you taste?" He held his tumbler out, eyes half-lidded. It was temptation, pure and simple.

I took the glass and raised it to my mouth. Both sides of his lips quirked up. Yeah, he liked that I'd taken it from him. Breathing in the odours, I caught a hint of smoke, sweetness—maybe cherry—and oak. I took a small sip and added nuts and chocolate to my impression as it left a pleasant burn on my tongue and watered my eyes.

"It's wonderfully complex, but a little intense for my tastes," I told him.

"You don't like complexity?"

Why did I get the feeling we weren't talking about his scotch? "Oh, I do, but it also makes my eyes water a little, and it's a bit hard on the tongue." I handed the glass back to him and watched him turn it to sip where my mouth had been, his eyes holding mine.

Holy cow, that was hot. I wasn't about to do something as gauche as fan myself in front of this gorgeous male specimen, but damn, did I feel like it.

"So you don't like things that are hard on your tongue and make your eyes water." His eyes took on a glint that had me wondering at the joke. "What's your go-to guilty pleasure, Anna?"

My blush returned in full force, heat radiating from my cheeks that surely he could see in the flashing light just as easily as I felt it. "I go into upscale fashion stores to feel the different fabrics and textiles." Yeah, I left out it was usually the lingerie section where I drooled over the gorgeous silks, satins, and lace that I'd never be able to afford.

His head tilted to the side slightly, his eyes narrowing. "But not just the main parts of the stores. You go to the lingerie area, don't you?"

My jaw dropped. How could he have possibly guessed that?

With a little smirk back on his lips, he nodded slightly. "Yes, you do. Would you like to know my go-to guilty pleasure?" He leaned closer, angling his body towards me.

Would it mean he'd keep talking? Hell, I might orgasm from his voice alone. "Yes," I murmured.

He took my hand in his, caressing my fingers. "Come dance with me and I'll consider it."

I nodded before I'd even thought it through. He rose from his seat and helped me up from mine. With my right hand in his, his left was a warm brand on my lower back through the thin material. Not inappropriate. He didn't move it to my ass, but still, my senses were heightened.

Everyone gave way, making a path for him as he guided me to the dance floor. When he drew me against him to lead us in the slow song, my breasts swelled, achy and flushed, and my nipples pebbled at the contact with his muscular abdomen. Even in my three-inch heels, I barely reached his shoulder. And he was so very strong. The flex and pull of muscles under my fingertips had them tingling. Gods, I wanted to explore. Trying to resist the sensation, I spread my hand flat on his shoulder.

His virile scent surrounded me, like a heady perfume full of cedar, campfire, and a greener, sharper tone. Rosemary? I inhaled deeply. Yes, rosemary. The long fingers of his massive hand spread on my lower back, low enough he had to feel the band of my thong panties. We swayed together, and my arousal grew with every teasing brush of his body against mine.

With being so much shorter than him, I'd kept my head turned to the side until he set my other hand also on his shoulder and cupped my face, tilting it upward. Our eyes met, and a gasp left my lips at the sheer carnality that lit his eyes from within.

"I would very much like to kiss you, Anna," he growled in that panty-soaking voice.

I licked my lips and his grip tightened, eyes heating. "Please."

His smile grew. "Now there's a pretty word on your lips. Definitely something I want to hear more of," he said as his lips slowly got closer.

I wanted to ask what he meant, but the first brush of his lips distracted me. So light, the contact made me question whether I'd imagined it. Still, my every sense strained towards him. The second press of his lips scattered all thought. More definitively, his tongue stroked over my lower lip when our mouths parted. My eyes fluttered open and met his intense gaze. A shiver rippled down my spine, heat pooling in my core. Lowering his mouth again, he demanded entry, and when I complied, he took charge with a breathtaking thoroughness. His hand moved from my chin and cheek, to sliding into the hair at my nape, griping it firmly and tilting my head to the angle he wanted.

A moan escaped into his mouth and he growled, hand tightening as he deepened our kiss. Immersed in the heat of him, I lost all sense of my surroundings. My mind a swirl, I pressed closer, surrendering to the most passionate kiss of my life. Never had I been so connected, like we were one being. Everything he asked, I willingly gave, and he returned tenfold in delicious pleasure. My body hummed.

Our lips parted, and the air rasped in and out of my quivering lungs as I panted into his collarbone.

"Would you let me take you right here, then, little Anna? You wreak havoc on my control," he growled in my ear, nipping the lobe.

What did he... oh my god. The sounds of the seductive music penetrated the fog of lust and I lifted my head to see strobing lights, dancers, and the nightclub surrounding us. Stiffening, I attempted to peel my body off his. I was plastered against his firm torso with his hand on my lower back as his other held me by the back of my neck.

"I... I'm so—"

He nipped my ear, hard, and I squeaked.

"Don't you dare apologize. You are absolute perfection," he snarled, then his tone turned softer. "Unless you would like me to release you. Do you want to stop dancing?"

"No!" The word burst out without any thought, but even as my mind caught up, it agreed. I wasn't sure what it was about this particular man that aroused me so far beyond my previous limited experience, but he made every cell in my body purr. I'd never felt so alive, so vibrant. And as he continued to sway us to the rhythm of the music, the press of rigid flesh against my belly gave me courage. This man wanted me. I would be bold, damn it, and go after this experience.

He chuckled. A rich vibration that shook his chest and my breasts, teasing my nipples with the promise of more.

How he managed to keep us moving with the music, I had no idea. I certainly was no help whatsoever.

The hand at my nape massaged my scalp and his lips explored my neck. I couldn't hold back the shiver as he nipped, licked, and sucked the tender skin, lathing his tongue over my pulse and a spot where shoulder and neck met. When he bit lightly, my body jerked, a moan accompanying my fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

"Mmm... you like that, don't you. Tell me little Anna, if I were to slide my thigh into this sexy slit in your dress"—he shifted to press his knee, then thigh into the opening high on my right leg—"would you stop me? Or let me continue until your hot, little cunt soaks my pants?"

A needy whimper was my only response. There was no way I could speak as his thigh shifted higher and higher, slowly approaching my sex. My back arched, my hips tilting as my legs widened on his seeking leg. And even as he drew near, so close the heat of his thigh teased me, he continued to move our bodies to the lure of the beat.

My pulse increased as my excitement grew. At the firm press of his muscular thigh against my aroused flesh, my breath caught. Lightning sparked through my body and he drew more and more of my body weight onto his leg, increasing the pressure. My hips bucked, riding him, every small movement ratcheting the intensity higher.

"Please." The whispered plea escaped as I arched further, my fingers clinging as my body trembled at the cusp.

"What do you need?" he growled in my ear, nipping my throat. "Ask me. Beg."

I squirmed, trying to reach for that peak, lost in the sensation and unable to articulate. Yet I knew I need more.

"More, please," I begged. "Please, Paz."

"I do like my name on your lips." He flexed his thigh, and I gasped as it ground my sex. He did it again.

So close. God, I was so close, quivering in his arms and just before his lips descended, he growled, "Ask me, Anna," and then took my shuddering moans into his mouth.

His hands moved over my hair, down my back. When our lips parted, I gazed up at him, the satisfied smile on his lips, the heat in his dark eyes.

"Would you... would you like to come home with me, Paz?" I asked, forcing courage into my voice. I could do this. I could ask for what I wanted. And I wanted more of him. I wanted the climax he'd teased me with.

His smile widened, his eyelids lowering to half cover his eyes. "Only if I get to eat the needy little cunt that's soaked my leg. The scent of you... I want to feast, little Anna."

A ripple ran through me, my sex clenching hard.

"Yes."