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“Then you may end up regretting the day you were born,” a voice says from behind me. It’s deep, strong, and goes straight to my dick. I know that voice. It shouldn't have this effect on me but it does. I haven't seen him since the party but it didn't stop me from thinking about him or keeping his roses.
Why would I care? I don't know him. It doesn't stop a part of me from wanting to. What would it feel like to have those strong hands on me and those lips touching more than my ear? A shiver runs up my spine. Instead of fantasizing about this man, I should be questioning why he's here. Is he following me? Do I make him as curious as he does me?
The blond man releases me and turns around. “Oh yeah, and who the hell are you?”
The mystery man punches the creep hard in the face, making him crumple to the floor. He delivers a few strong kicks into the man’s stomach causing him to curl into a ball. “The man who will drain the blood from your body if you touch him again.”
The blond man struggles to get off the floor and my eyes lock with the mystery man's dark ones.
“I’m sorry I’m late, baby.” He kisses me on the cheek, resting a hand on my hip. His lips are warm and the weight of his hand is more comforting than it should be. Holy shit balls. How can a stranger's touch feel so heavenly? What's even happening?
“That’s okay,” I say, sneering at the man on the floor. “I’m sure you will make it up to me somehow.”
His lips brush over my ear. “Try to be more careful, Mateo. Next time you might not be so lucky.”
“Thank you, but I could have handled it myself.”
He laughs and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My heart rate is off tempo and so loud in my ears, it overpowers the club's music.
“People like you don’t belong in places like this. Run back to your tower behind your metal gates where it's safer,” he says. His eyes hold onto mine, causing my breaths to shallow.
By the time I'm able to finally open my mouth to speak again, he pulls away and disappears into the crowd. I stand there motionless. Someone tugs on my arm and I meet Maria’s eyes.
“There you are, primo. Where the hell have you been this whole time?”
I swallow hard, glancing behind me, noticing the creep from before is nowhere to be found. At some point, he got up and left. A small part of me wishes he would come back so I could see if the alluring stranger would return.
“Nowhere,” I whisper in her ear. “Let’s go get you a drink and then you can show me your moves on the dance floor.”
I never stop looking for the man who saved me. When I dance to my favorite song, I pretend I’m moving for him, and that he is out there somewhere watching me with those same hungry eyes from before. How many times is he going to keep randomly showing up and why am I wanting him to? I should be worried or scared but all it does is excite something inside me. I don't understand why. Now is not the best time to go searching for answers. Not when my father and Santiago are currently at war with a lot of people. I've been treated like glass for most of my life and this man is a taste of danger my body suddenly hungers for.
Maybe because his surprise visits aren't on any of my mom's calendars or my father's daily lists and he's the complete opposite of my fiancé. Santiago is clean shaven in fancy clothes all the time. The mystery man is rugged with hair covering most of the bottom of his face, and he wears jeans and casual tops under his blazers. He has on a different pair of sneakers today, and something about them is much sexier than any boots or loafers I've seen men with expensive tastes wear. He goes against all plans and it's a breath of fresh air. I wanted to inhale deeply the last time he was in my proximity, tempted to hold my breath until I suffocated.
No way is he purposely following me. He'd be signing his own death warrant by doing so. Three times he managed to slip under my father's and Santiago's radar. It wasn't something I thought would be so easy to do but he made it seem like a cakewalk, so confident and sure of himself every time he got way closer than he should.
The feeling of needing to stay away is strong and alarming. It's also the main reason I don't want to. I'm so fucking tired of doing what I'm supposed to do all the damn time. It's exhausting to constantly be what I was taught, when everything that sounds wrong promises to break me free from my chains and set me free.
Six
Gabriel
I made sure to wait until the perfect moment to step in. Watching that man put his hands on Mateo has me almost stepping in too soon and blowing my whole plan. My blood boils as he continues to touch him. I should be the only one allowed to put fear into Mateo's eyes. The person who teaches him a lesson of what happens when you make stupid choices. I have to keep reminding myself that I'll get my turn soon enough.
My jaw clenches when the man reaches for his neck. He's gone too far now. I push my way through the crowd of people, ignoring their reaction to me roughly shoving at them. I send the asshole to the floor and don’t stop there. Mateo watches me tentatively and I enjoy it way more than I should. It's the perfect way to earn Mateo's trust. To make him assume I'm a better person than I am.
Walking away is harder this time with the way his eyes hold mine captive. I'm tempted to take what I want from him right then and there. To cover the newly forming bruises on his neck with marks from my fingers. The timing isn’t right. I need him begging for it. I need him to be desperate and a pathetic mess. Judging by the way he watched me walk through the crowd, I am on my way. I head up to the second floor and grab a drink at the upstairs bar. I watch him dancing below with his cousin and his movements are imperfect and off beat, but mesmerizing.
The amber liquid swishes in my glass as I continue to make sure no one else steals my chance at sweet revenge. Quickly standing from my chair, my fingers clutch tight around the glass as I watch some asshole dance between Mateo and his cousin. His mouth is on Mateo's ear and whatever he's saying is earning him plenty of smiles.
Slamming the cup hard on the table, I lean on the railing and dip my head low enough to get a better view of where the other man's hands go as he grinds against Mateo. I didn't come this far for some Dawson's Creek asshole to take what should be mine. If anyone is going to steal his innocence and give him the first taste of what he's been missing from another human being, it's going to be me. This will only work if it is.
I no longer know or care what song is playing. It could be the most annoying song in the world, and I wouldn't notice. His curls are wild and flowing around his face as he continues to spin around. His smiles and laughter brighten his face, making him appear more free than I know he is.
The other man has his fingers below the waistband of his jeans and there's a strange gnawing in my stomach. I'm going to have to make a little more effort if I want to be the only one he wants to dance with. He isn't following or searching for me in the club yet and he should be. If he can easily find a replacement, it means I haven't cemented myself into his thoughts enough. I might need to leave a little more of myself behind on his body too.
Tossing his head back, Mateo's lips parts and the laughter shows in his eyes. I'm ready to rip it all away. To be the one to rob him of every good left in him. Too blinded by lust and pleasure, he'll enjoy every minute of it too. I lick my lips when he tilts his head back revealing the smoothness of his neck. Why I have the sudden urge to taste and mark his skin there, I have no idea.
A hand lands on my shoulder and when I turn around, I am met with a server in a short dress, eyeing me up and down. “Can I get you another drink?”
