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She was typing out another text that felt like an eternity, only firing up my anticipation more as the seconds went by.

Andi: I’ll be honest with you—I don’t normally entertain a man after I’ve fucked him.

Staring at the screen, I pictured that night between us, the awkwardness afterward. Andi was ruthless. She didn’t want to look me in the eye, she enjoyed being in control to get exactly what she wanted for one time only, and she left like it was the easiest thing for her to be disassociated.

Here it was … that pinch of rejection twisting inside of me. I wasn’t crazy for thinking she was just doing her job and maybe got caught up a little bit for just one night.

If she rejects you, you either try again and show her just how persistent you can be, or you give up.

Carter might be on to something, because dammit, I enjoyed a challenge every now and then. If Andi didn’t fuck a man twice, eventually, I’d turn the tables. I’d make her realize what she was missing out on by not coming back to me for another round.

I smirked as I began to text her back.

Me: Not even talking? As friends?

Andi: Is that what you want from me, Hunter? Friendship?

Putting myself in the friendzone sounded like absolute torture.

Me: There isn’t a world where I think about my friends the way I think about you, Andi.

Andi: And what way is that?

This had dangerous territory written all over it.

Me: I’m not sure you’re ready to know that.

Andi: I’m breaking my rules for you, Hunter. Maybe I want to know.

Adjusting my cock in my joggers, I thought about the way I wanted to spell it out for her. How I wanted to spill every dirty thought that had run wild in my mind—especially since that night we spent together. It didn’t last long enough, and we didn’t stay up all hours of the night for rounds two or three the way I would’ve wanted.

If I spilled it all to her, she’d take it and run. I’d reeled her in, but I needed to keep her around, gnawing at the bait.

Me: And I’d love to tell you. When do you work next?

Andi: If I tell you, are you going to request me? Or will you watch me from afar?

No way in hell would I want to watch her with someone else after I’ve had her.

The thought made me sick. It was never about watching her with anyone else. The other person in the picture never mattered. It was always her I was curious about.

Me: There is no one else I’d rather see.

After we’d hooked up, and as our conversation continued, every part of me was aware she wasn’t mine to claim. Although there was something about the thought of her dancing for only me, fucking only me, and confiding in only me that felt like a jolt of lightening to my cold, dead heart.

Andi: Tomorrow. 7 o’clock. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Me: Count on it.

My body was itching with adrenaline knowing I’d see her tomorrow, but more so because I had to wait, and patience wasn’t my best attribute.

At least spending some of my nights at The Royale Room lately paid off. I had a better idea of what went down there—especially in the back rooms. Somehow, I’d have to go to bed tonight and avoid a raging hard on as I thought about what I would be requesting from my favorite sassy redhead.

“God, what the fuck was I thinking?” I mumbled to myself, sorting through my hefty lingerie drawer.

Hunter clearly caught me in a weak moment last night when I was suffering from a hangover from hell. Add in a dash of crying my eyes out over a freaking letter plus memories from my past, and I was done for.

So, when Hunter’s name popped up on my phone, I didn’t think twice. It sounded better to distract myself than to sit and suffer in my feelings. But then, I started to feel waves of different emotions pulling me in every direction. One minute, I was opening up, and the next, I was deflecting. And then, Hunter was … flirting with me? I had no choice but to let him in on my little rule.