Cami leaned even closer, the scent of her expensive oud and the heat radiating from her leather-clad body competing with the thrum of the bass. "My husband Bruce owns the deed to this building," she purred, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass with a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "But he lacks that... primal gravity you have. I haven't seen a man command a room like this since the Sheiks back in the Emirates."
I reached for the bottle of Ace of Spades, my hand steady as I poured. I didn't look at the glass; I kept my eyes on hers. "I don't get 'locked down,' Cami. I just find the right partners for the journey. And Sasha knows exactly how to keep the path interesting."
