“As my first act of faith in my new VP, I’m thinking of leaving you in charge for a few days.” Z raises his bottle and tips it in Rooster’s direction.

“Wait, what now?” Rooster feigns shock by clutching his chest.

Chuckling, I shift and tug the edge of my dress down.

“Stop fidgeting,” Z breathes against my ear. “You look hot.”

“I feel like my ass is hanging out. This dress is shorter than I realized. Or I’m wider than I thought.”

He slaps my ass, earning us a bunch of hoots and whip-crack noises from the brothers. “Don’t disrespect my old lady,” he says to me.

I’m still reeling from the shock of his hand on my ass in front of everyone and how much I liked it.

Since our display is probably the mildest thing that’s happened in this clubhouse tonight, the guys lose interest fast. Z takes my hand and leads me to the corner stool. Lala rushes over and sets a drink in front of me.

“Thanks, hun,” Z says.

She squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath.

Either Z makes her nervous or she’s trying to show off her tits.

“I know you don’t care what club girls think, but thank you for um, well, you know.” She darts away to help someone at the other end of the bar.

Z stands there, staring after her, and finally shakes his head.

“That was sweet.” I brush my hand over his arm. “Took her a minute to screw up the courage.”

“Am I that scary?”

“Not to me.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he grumbles. “Not wanting to see girls hurt doesn’t make me a hero.”

“Maybe it does here.”

His presidential gaze slides over the crowd. “Maybe the herd needs more thinning,” he mutters.

“Z.” I rest two fingers on his cheek, slowly turning his head my way. He sweeps his gaze over me, lingering on the plunging neckline of my dress.

“I want to bury my face in your tits.”

I throw my head back and laugh.

“Hey,” he says more seriously. He runs his fingers through my hair pushing it over my shoulder. “It’s good to hear you laugh…after everything.”

“You always make me laugh.”

His hand drops to my knee, slowly tracing little circles. I shift, spreading my knees, opening myself up for him, and he wedges himself in tight. “What are you doing, Siren?”

“Me? I’m just sitting here having a drink with my man.” I pick up the drink, teasing the little straw with my tongue.

He slides his hand up and under my dress, heading straight for what I’m offering. I gasp and briefly close my eyes when he stops and runs his thumb over the hot line between my legs.

“Lilly.” His breath is a hot puff of air over my cheek. “You’re soaked.”

“Am I?”