We dance for several songs, the crowd growing fuller around us, and partners beginning to blend. The moment Scott is distracted, facing another girl from the group, a hand slides around my abdomen from behind, and hauls me backward, spinning me away from my friends and walking me forward a few steps.

I attempt to look over my shoulder, but pause as, in the same second, Arsen appears before me.

He doesn’t speak, but pushes my hair over my shoulder, and the fingers along my stomach span out.

My core muscles clench in response, causing a small frown to slip over my forehead.

“So, it’s Jameson, huh?” Beretta’s low baritone fills my ear, his free hand landing on my upper ribs and pressing me into his body even more. “I like.”

My eyes flick around the room, but everyone’s so dazed, they’ve yet to notice us among the masses.

“Yeah?” I snap at Beretta, and Arsen swiftly brings himself closer, forcing me to take a deep breath. “Same way you ‘liked’ the dress?”

Beretta’s smile is evident in his words. “I never said I didn’t like it. I said it wasn’t the one for you, and it wasn’t.” His taunting chuckle fans over my neck, his grip teasingly tight. “It was the one for her.”

I tear away, slipping from between the two, only to spin on my heels and face them. “Classy. Now if you’re done with me, go find another toy to play with, maybe one who’s interested. I’m—”

I bump into someone, my head tilting up and to the side.

Wicked blue eyes slam into mine.

Ransom.

His large hands find my hips, and in one swift move, I’m spun and tugged into the firm lines of his chest. Yes, I can envision the hard cuts beneath his cotton dress shirt from the hasty graze.

“You’re what...” he mocks, an arrogant brow lifting as he slowly dips closer. “Otherwise... occupato?”

I swallow, lifting my chin and putting a foot of space between us.

“So, you’re a lip-reading stalker then?”

The corner of his mouth twitches but that’s all I get.

I flick my eyes to the ceiling and shove past.

I’m surprised when they don’t follow, and completely unsurprised, when my friends do.

All at once, the girls fire off questions.

“Um, hello. What was that?” Jules’ bloodshot eyes widen in the fluorescent lights.

I force a short laugh, glaring at the bartender’s expression when I ask for an ice water.

“I bumped into him,” I lie, dropping a twenty on the counter out of spite, winking thanks at the chick behind it. “He told me to watch where I was going... and that I had a nice ass.”

I chuckle at myself, and the girls gape.