I watch Tina from across the dancefloor, sitting at the bar with Marie, smiling like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her dress is too short, too tight, it barely covers her juicy thighs, and leaves way too much skin exposed.
My eyes hungrily take in the swell of her hips, the dip of her waist. The way her round tits press high and full against the thin red fabric. The thick globes of her ass… Jesus.
She’s fucking bait. Shining brighter than a goddamn lighthouse in the dark. And every man in this place is fucking staring.
I drain my drink and slam the glass on the table.
Don’t move. Don’t fucking cause a scene. Don’t drag her out of this place and throw her over your shoulder like some fucking psycho.
I can keep her safe without forcing her to go home like she’s already mine, right?
I can. I fucking can.
* * *
Tina throws her head back laughing, her fingers curling around Marie’s arm.
Her laughter cuts straight through the pounding bass, sliding down my spine like a fucking caress.
Then some asshole slides up to her, one of his hands braced on the bar, his body angled way too fucking close for my blood pressure.
I stiffen.
Don’t move, Antonov.
Tina flashes the guy a grin. Not her usual smug, teasing one. No, this one’s softer… sweeter. Like she’s actually fucking interested.
I grip my glass tighter.
She leans in a little, saying something I can’t hear from this distance.
The guy smiles. Then he leans closer, too.
And that’s when she looks at me, straight across the room, with her beautiful eyes sparkling like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
My jaw clenches.
She’s pushing me again.
Fucking testing me.
* * *
I sit back, hands fisted, teeth grinding, as I watch her play her little game.
She laughs again, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and the asshole’s hand creeps to her waist.
Touch her.
I fucking dare you.
The music pounds, the lights flash, but all I can do is stare like a man on the edge of a goddamn cliff.
I know what’s happening. I know she’s not actually interested. She’s only doing this to fuck with me. But knowing doesn’t help. Knowing doesn’t stop the fire roaring in my chest, the sharp, searing heat clawing through me like I’m about to fucking explode.
Her hand lifts, landing lightly on the guy’s chest, and I see nothing but bright, crimson red.
* * *
I don’t remember standing. Don’t remember crossing the room. All I know is that one second I’m seething at my table… and the next, my hand’s fisting the piece of shit’s collar and slamming him against the bar.
“Back. Off,” I growl.
The man stares at me wide-eyed, sputtering, but I don’t hear a word over the pounding in my ears. I only hear Tina’s breath hitching behind me, and the booming drum of my pulse.
The guy coughs, gripping my wrist. “What’s your problem, man?”
I smile, cold and dangerous, before slamming him against the bar. The sound of his face meeting the wood is music to my ears. The blood dripping from his nose and mouth, fucking beauty.
“I said…” I rumble fiercely, leaning closer. “Back. The fuck. Off.”
He stumbles away the second I release him, holding his bloody face and whining like the little bitch he is. But I barely notice. Tina’s standing next to me, stunned and breathless, staring at me in shock and something that looks like… wonder? Fuck… my woman.
“Time to go,” I rumble, grabbing her wrist.
“Wait.”
“No.” I pull her against my side, dragging her through the crowd.
Marie follows without a question, her knowing smile saying it all.
I’m so fucking screwed.
* * *
The second I’ve made sure they’re buckled up inside the SUV, I slam my door shut and grip the steering wheel tight enough to crack bones. Tina’s in the backseat, breathing hard, still pissed. I can feel her eyes on me. And what I read in them is furious, and turned on.
“What the fuck was that, Aslan?” she finally asks, full-on sassy.
I glower at her in the mirror, my teeth clenched.
Her mouth twitches. “I think you’re mad because I was having fun,” she replies.
“Wrong,” I snap. “I’m mad because you keep acting like life is a fucking game.”
“Oh?” She leans forward again, closer than she should be, her sexy voice low and teasing. “And what happens if I keep doing it?” she adds in a singsong tone.
I swirl through traffic, cars honking around us, swiftly park at the curb, and turn to face her.
“You wanna know what happens?” I growl. I reach back, fisting her hair just hard enough to pull her face close to mine. Close enough that our breaths mix. “You keep pushing me,” I growl, “and you’re gonna find out exactly what happens when I stop holding back.”
Her breath shudders and she whispers only for my ears. “Maybe that’s what I want.”
I release her, my fingers dragging slowly through her curls, and turn back to the road. Ignoring Marie’s wide-eyed expression and slack jaw.
