Page 25 of Off Limits Mogul

Before he can walk away from me, I ask for three more fingers.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“I’ll have another round.” I maintain my position.

He’s still rooted in place.

“What? You have my credit card and I’m running a tab. What more do you need?”

“Very well, Mr. Hartford,” he says in a calm tone that betrays the worry veiling his eyes.

The rational part of me understands where he’s coming from. This is my fourth drink in a short window, but I need to smooth the edges before I lose my goddamn mind.

“Thanks,” I say when he pours the amber liquid in my glass.

Salvation.

I gulp down half my drink.

She infuriates me.

Who the fuck does she think she is, judging me?

She thinks she has me pegged.

She knows nothing.

The mountain of conflicting feelings that coursed through me as Keira barraged me for no good reason was too much to handle. I needed to get the hell out of there––and I needed to get out fast––before I did something I lived to regret. I wanted to drag her over my lap and spank her until she found a new attitude as much as I wanted to silence her lips with a heated kiss.

After driving around in circles, I decided to attack my problem head-on. While I was waiting around to pick up Keira, I killed some time at my stomping ground.

I’m back at the Quintus Hotel.

I bypassed the gentleman’s club and headed straight for the whiskey bar. This is my warm-up before I head to Dark Compulsion––the private adult club hiding behind the hotel. It’s a little past one o’clock in the morning, so things should be hot and heavy by now.

And… my thoughts veer to Keira.

Fuck.

My sour mood kicks up a notch––or ten.

It’s my own damn fault for putting my cock’s needs in the backseat while I raised to the challenges and demands of running a company.

I should learn to channel Beckett.

Taking SCORE to new heights has never slowed him––or his cock––down. I pull tail just fine, but compared to him, I’m a novice. Then again, I have a lot more discerning taste. Although, the pretty boy has changed his ways recently.

Time to swing the pendulum to the other side.

Only two things will do tonight––expensive whiskey and a willing pussy.

“Drinking alone, Mr. Hartford?”

I lift my head and catch sight of the tall, impeccably dressed man I saw a few hours ago.

Larkin Gallagher.

The two stout men that double as his shadow stand guard at the door.