Cami leaned even closer, the scent of her expensive oud and the heat radiating from her leather-clad body competing with the thrum of the bass. "My husband Bruce owns the deed to this building," she purred, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass with a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "But he lacks that... primal gravity you have. I haven't seen a man command a room like this since the Sheiks back in the Emirates."

​I reached for the bottle of Ace of Spades, my hand steady as I poured. I didn't look at the glass; I kept my eyes on hers. "I don't get 'locked down,' Cami. I just find the right partners for the journey. And Sasha knows exactly how to keep the path interesting."

​Cami's hand slid across the mahogany table, her fingertips grazing my knuckles. The heat was immediate, an electric spark in the middle of the neon haze. "I'm sure she does. But LA is a different beast, Druski. It's a city of predators. Every woman in this room is going to be dying for a piece of you. I wonder if Sasha is truly ready to share the throne."

​I glanced at Sasha. She didn't flinch. She just sat there in that shimmering, see-through mesh, wearing a knowing, effortless smile. She'd watched me claim a flight attendant in a galley at thirty thousand feet and hadn't blinked. I wondered if her composure would hold if I decided to hook up with the elite talent in this club—or with the legendary Cami herself.

​"I think he'll try his best to behave and control his lust," Sasha said finally, her voice light but her eyes dancing with mischief.

​I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of both their gazes. "The female talent in this city is definitely peak, I'll give you that. I'll certainly try to be a good boy."

​"I hope so," Cami said, her voice dropping into a husky, cynical register. "My husband always makes the same promises. But I always end up catching him in the back office with some ghetto slut. I put on a show, act the part of the scorned wife, but we always squash it. Why? Because I make sure to even the score every chance I get..." Her eyes lingered on mine for a heavy, silent beat, a blatant invitation written in her pupils.

​Sasha let out a sharp, melodic giggle. "Still the same crafty whore I see. Dubai didn't change you one bit."

​"I never change, darling. Life is too short not to have all the fun before the lights go out," Cami replied, unbothered. She leaned back, her high ponytail swaying. "Anyway, I've always believed men should be allowed to date multiple women. It's in the design."

​"Ah ha! Exactly!" I leaned forward, pointing a finger at her. "Finally, a woman speaking the truth."

​Sasha giggled again, nudging my shoulder. "Don't you dare encourage him, Cami. He's already impossible to manage."

​"Real men are polygamous by nature, Sasha," Cami purred, her gaze dropping to my mouth. "And a King needs more than one Queen to maintain an empire."

The debate over the nature of men and their needs continued for another ten minutes, the air between the three of us thick with the scent of champagne and expensive sin. Sasha kept up her playful defense, shaking her head every time I made a point, but the way she kept her hand on my thigh told me she wasn't truly upset—she was just enjoying the friction.

​Suddenly, the heavy bass of the club shifted. A high-energy pop anthem, the kind that was currently topping every chart in the country, blasted through the massive speakers. The crowd on the floor erupted.

​Cami's eyes lit up, her high ponytail whipping as she turned toward the sound. "Oh my god, this is my favorite jam!" she squealed, the polished manager persona momentarily replaced by a girl who just wanted to move.

​She turned to Sasha, her hand already reaching for my arm. "Sasha, darling, do you mind if I borrow the King for just one song? I need to see if he can keep a rhythm as well as he keeps a conversation."

​Sasha leaned back, sipping her champagne with a look of supreme confidence. She looked at me, then back at her old friend from the Dubai days. "I don't mind at all, Cami. Just make sure you bring him back in one piece. I'm not finished with him yet."

​"No promises," Cami purred.

​She didn't wait for me to agree. She grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong, and pulled me out of the velvet booth and into the sea of bodies on the dance floor. The transition from the quiet VIP bubble to the center of the floor was like stepping into a furnace.

​Cami didn't waste a second. As soon as we were surrounded by the crowd and the strobe lights, she turned around and backed into me. She reached back, hooking her hands behind my neck and pulling my chest flush against her leather vest. She began to grind her hips against me in a slow, hypnotic circle, her micro-shorts offering almost no barrier between her and my growing heat.

​"You know," she shouted over the music, looking at me over her shoulder with a wild, electric look in her blue eyes. "I usually have to work much harder to get a man like you away from his woman. You're making this too easy, Druski."

​I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into the leather as I matched her rhythm. From the corner of my eye, I could see Sasha still at the table, watching us with a predatory smile. She wasn't jealous; she was watching a masterclass in seduction, and she seemed to be enjoying the show.

The music slowed to a deep, vibrating hum as the track faded out, but the heat between us didn't cool for a second. Cami was flushed, her platinum ponytail slightly disheveled and her chest heaving against her leather vest. Every time I'd gripped her ass on that dance floor, she'd arched back into me, making sure I felt every inch of her through those micro-shorts.

​I looked back toward our VIP table. Sasha wasn't looking for us anymore. She was leaning in close, deep in conversation with a high-profile couple—a sleek-looking producer and a girl who looked like she'd just walked off a runway. Sasha was in her element, networking and playing the LA game.

​Cami followed my gaze, then turned back to me, her blue eyes dark with intent. She stepped in close, her hand sliding up my chest to toy with the collar of my shirt.

​"Wanna get out of here?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the transition to the next song.

​I looked at her, then back at Sasha. "What about your friend?"

​"Sasha's fine. She knows how this town works," Cami purred, a devious smirk playing on her lips. "And besides... she said she didn't mind if I 'borrowed' you. She just didn't specify for how long."

​She leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "I have a private office upstairs. Soundproof. Fully stocked. And it has a much better view of the 'assets' than this floor does. Bruce is still tied up in the back with his 'business associates.' We have at least thirty minutes before anyone starts looking for the manager."

​She didn't wait for an answer. She hooked her finger in my belt loop and started leading me toward a discreet door near the back of the club, guarded by a massive bouncer who simply nodded as she approached.

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