“Dorian, dance with me,” Rachel pleaded, tracing her sharp red nails over his chest.
“Rob, dance with her,” Dorian ordered Robert.
“But I want to dance with you,” she insisted.
“Rachel, I don’t like dancing,” Dorian replied flatly.
“What about her? Would you dance with her?” she asked, hurt.
“Who are you talking about?” Gray feigned surprise.
“Clark’s sister. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at her.”
“You imagined it,” Dorian waved her off.
“‘Imagined,’ huh?” Rachel smirked. “Well, good. Because that wolf over there is shamelessly pawing her, and honestly, I’m a little jealous.”
Dorian sprang to his feet.
“Where?” he demanded, scanning the dance floor.
“Ha, I imagined that too, Dorian,” she laughed.
He growled.
“Rachel, don’t test my patience,” he hissed.
“I’m
