“Take your fucking clothes off, Harlow. Right now.”

My own voice came out rougher than I expected, thick with the kind of hunger that had been sitting low in my belly since the second she walked into the private booth at the back of the club.

Harlow stood under the dim red light, her lips parted with chest already rising fast under that tight white crop top.

She was all long legs in those ripped fishnets, tiny black skirt barely covering the tops of her thighs, and I could see her nipples pressing hard against the top like she had been thinking about this just as much as I had....