Rafael:
The bass thrummed through my chest, but it couldn't drown out the memory of her moans. Every woman who approached our VIP table bore some resemblance to her—the curve of hips, he arch of her necks, the way lips parted in invitation. Yet none of them were her.
"Boss, you've turned down six women tonight." Marcus leaned across the table, shouting over the music. "Six smoking hot women who practically threw themselves at you. What's wrong with you?” Marcus hollered, he was getting frustrated, because he had practically dragged me here from the office, saying I needed to clear my head before going for the family dinner.
I knocked back another whiskey, the burn doing nothing to ease the fire in my veins. "Nothing's wrong."
"Bullshit." He signaled for another round. "You've been chec
