The 13th Step

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The first time he saw her under the flashing lights on the dance floor, Blake thought it was his imagination. The second time, he thought he'd seen a ghost. The third time brought a harsh curse to his lips, because he knew the truth was far more disturbing than either of those options.

Ella.

She spun around, dark locks swinging, and gyrated her hips in quick, skillful circles that made his cock harden. The multicolored lights reflected off the fine, soft leather of her pants. Those'll take forever to get off her. Then he grimaced. In five seconds, he'd gone from detached professional to horny, slavering teenager. Just like always.

A man beside him watched her as well. "Hot, huh? Damn."

Blake murmured his assent then snorted. "She's trouble."

"You know her?"

"Used to." She shimmied and flipped her hips from side to side, her arms in the air. The tiny halter top bared her back all the way down to where the soft curves of her hips peeked out above the low-riding pants. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd staged this little show. "She'll eat you alive."

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