PLAY by Piper Lawson

them.
    “Looking for you. And here you are. Lucky me.”
    His expression said he wanted to bolt for the door.
    Or maybe shove me through it.
    So this is what it feels like to have the upper hand. All it took was trapping Max Donovan under one hundred and ten pounds of cellulite cream and spray tan.
    The girl dancing on me rolled her hips against mine, arching to stick out her full breasts and letting toned abs and thighs do all the work. The low synth in the background throbbed, providing a sensual backdrop for her movement.
    I didn’t know much about strip club etiquette, but it was probably rude to ignore a girl for too long when she was literally shoving herself in your face.
    “It looks like you’re here for the entertainment.” Max’s rough comment had my gaze snapping back to him. With the sleeves of his black button-down rolled up, I could’ve stretched out a hand and touched the muscles in his forearms.
    Or his lips, just parted with the promise of the next scathing remark.
    Or the metal biting his eyebrow.
    “Don’t be jealous,” I breathed. “I’m just here for an update.”
    “Which we can talk about someplace else.”
    Despite the fact that a stunning girl was working him over—and me, for that matter—his gaze was fixed on my face. Looking a little too hard into mine. I remembered his words.
    Everything’s a game. If you don’t know it, you’re losing.
    “Let’s talk about it here. Are your plans on schedule?”
    The blond dancing on Max brushed her full, barely covered breasts over his chest. He shifted in his seat. “More or less.”
    I wasn’t myself tonight. Hell, I was forced to admit that since I’d exploded at Max in that restaurant, my attempts to ‘put it back in’ had been futile. Between the club and the way Max was staring at me? The blood was flowing through my veins like I was ready, past ready…for an argument, or something else.
    I snaked my hand into my bag to pull out my notepad. “There were three milestones for this week. Which of those are the ‘more’ and which of those are the ‘less’?” Max’s face was stony. “I also pulled some articles on licensing considerations. Did you get my email?”
    “I’m not sure,” he ground out.
    “No problem. I brought hard copies.” I reached for the file folder I’d laid on the bench between us with my bag. When my fingers grazed his thigh, I jerked my hand back.
    The blond shifted, rubbing harder over Max’s hips. She trailed a finger down his chest, impatient, or winding up for the big finish. Her thong exposed most of the flesh of her hips, and it rode dangerously low. I could practically see the muscles jump through the fabric of his pants as she moved on him. The hairs on my neck stood on end up despite the warmth of the room, and I felt sweat bead between my breasts.
    Keep it together .
    I forced my attention back to the file folder between us. I’d barely flipped it open when determined fingers clamped around my wrist.
    “What the fuck are you doing, Payton?” Max muttered. His skin seared mine.
    I was trapped, and not just by his hand. His gaze was like a live wire, and I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it.
    “I’m protecting our investment.” My voice shook as I willed away the heat shooting up my arm.
    And down my spine.
    “So if I told your boss you were here, he’d give you a pat on the head for a job well done?”
    I’d been lulled into a sense of security because this Max was barely older than me. But the reality was I’d followed a client, on his own time, to a strip club. Then hired a half-naked girl to dance on me while I tried to pry information out of him.
    It was wrong.
    So wrong.
    Still…
    I took in the angle of his chin, the challenge in his eyes.
    I knew dicks. With Max Donovan, no amount of bowing and scraping was going to work. The only way to survive was to meet him head on.
    Instead of pulling back, I leaned in, close enough to smell his spicy scent.
    “I don’t