Hot Mistake. Cara Lockwood

Nice touch.

      “Seriously, Gab. Come on. Ignore them. Have this drink.” Sebastian tried to hand her the vodka soda she’d abandoned.

      “I’m not going to let this party get so far out of hand,” she snapped.

      “You mean, you’re not going to let people have fun?” Sebastian said dryly.

      “Fun isn’t grinding on strangers on a tabletop.” Gabriela’s dark eyes were fire and ice all at once. He wondered if she were as passionate in the bedroom as she was about enforcing party rules. She’d probably make a hell of a dominatrix.

      “It isn’t?”

      “You’re impossible,” Gabriela cried, looking like she was about to pull her hair out. Sebastian wondered what her thick hair would feel like in his hands.

      “And you haven’t had enough to drink.” He rattled her glass and the ice cubes clinked together.

      Gabriela glanced at the drink. “Fine,” she growled and swiped it out of his hand, sloshing a bit onto the carpet. She downed it in one big gulp and slammed the glass on the countertop, unfazed.

      Holy hell that was sexy.

      When did she learn to drink like that? And, look, the drink wasn’t affecting her at all. Could she actually keep up with him?

      He glanced up and noticed that Felicia was sticking her hands down the front of the dancer’s Speedo.

      Whoa. Okay, that was off bounds. Sebastian had to admit it was getting a little hot. Probably too hot for this audience. Bill, for one, was about to have an aneurysm. His eyes were so wide they seemed about to pop out of his head. Sebastian didn’t know if he disapproved of Felicia’s antics or very much approved of her short skirt. Veronica was staring, transfixed. The entire bar swayed slightly as the ocean liner cruised through the Atlantic, the low lights flickering across Felicia’s face. Her eyes were already bloodshot. Too much tequila, Sebastian guessed.