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Taz pulls me to the center of the dance floor, and even though the song that’s playing is not slow by any means, It’s a bad bitch anthem. Girl on Fire, by Alicia Keys, plays as some ol’ ladies and club girls scream the lyrics while holding up their beers. Taz ignores the beat as he pulls me into him. I look up, his hands sliding from my shoulders and wrapping around my wrists as he pulls my arms up and wraps them around his neck. I chuckle at the smirk he gives me. This man is so beautiful, as much as I want to focus on him. My mind goes back to my sister. I can’t help it. I’m a multitasker on my best day, but all my focus is on her and if she will forgive me for my fuck up and lack of empathy.
Taz’s hand comes to my chin. “I know… You were in your head. You were so focused on your emotions that you forgot about hers.” Letting go of my chin, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. His soulful, deep chocolate eyes stare down at me. I swear my panties are going to disintegrate at any moment. The way this man looks at me... My breath leaves me as I feel his hard body against mine.
“You probably have never done that before…” My brow furrows, and he sees my question. “You never put yourself before your family… your team. You are always concerned with and about them. Their well-being, and their lives. You don’t stop to think about yourself or allow yourself to process. Everyone else comes first. Everyone else is more important than you. Well, my little tornado. Right now, you are the most important person in this room. Let me worry about you. Let me hold you and slow dance with you to this ridiculous-ass song.” We both chuckle and look around as the songs affect those around us. “Let me carry your burden for a little while.” he whispers in my ear and squeezes his arms around me more.
He isn’t wrong. I take on everything. It's my job, and they are my family; I can’t help it. But I know he isn’t wrong about needing someone to help me with the load that sometimes seems too heavy. I sigh and lean into him, resting my head on his chest as he sways with me in his arms, and his heartbeats lull me into a calm.
My body sings his praises, but my brain screams, pump the brakes hoe. And my heart, fuck, my heart is opening up to him after knowing him for mere hours. At twenty-eight years old, I am afraid, and not for the first time, I think about what my mother went through. I am strong-willed, but is my heart strong enough to handle heartbreak? I want to believe it is. But being that he will be my first relationship, I’m not one hundred percent confident in that fact. But I want to be. I need to be, because this fine-as-hell man will never want to let me go.
Why does he have to be so damn fine?
I know I keep saying it.
But sheesh… Why?
Pulling away from his chest, I look up at Taz. I know everything I’m talking about in my head will go out the window. I can feel my body responding to him, my heart rate speeding up. I remember what my mother said it felt like when she met the sperm donor. I venture to say this is it, the way my mind and body crave him. He is it whether or not I like it or am ready for what it means.
BOOM!!!
The building rattles under my feet, and I hear glass shattering. Instantly, I am tackled to the ground over what feels like a damn building. There is smoke… but I don’t see fire as much as I can see through the big fucker that has yet to get up. My eyes burn, and my nose gets itchy, and…
Are those rat fuckers using tear gas?
Son of a bitch.
I try to push myself but can’t. I try to shift again so I can get up and see who the fuck thought it was a good idea to ruin my fucking moment with my damn man.
Goddamned Taz. This big burly fucker is quick as shit. I can hear him shouting orders over me, and every time I shift, he pushes me down and keeps my head covered with his giant-ass man hands.
Damn men and their need to protect.
I continue to shift and wiggle, trying to get from under the weight of the sexy, hard-bodied biker, but he’s not having it. And I’m getting pissed. Why must men be so damn hell-bent on protecting women? I’m a motherfucking mercenary, an assassin, for fuck's sake. I don’t need fucking saving or shielding. Motherfuckers need to be saved and shielded from me. See, this is why… I let out a growl of frustration, and of course, the big fucker above me ignores me.
I swear there is a switch in every man's brain that flips whenever they perceive danger in the presence of the opposite sex. They all go into the I am man, must protect mode. Okay, I can’t be too mad. Because hot damn, this man's body is giving what it was supposed to give.
Fuck! Focus, Bellamy.
My body shifts so I can get my hands from under me. I need to assess. Sight, sound, smell and feel. I take a few breaths, closing my eyes. When I open my eyes and attempt to shift again to push myself from under Taz’s, he moves unrelentingly, stopping my attempt to escape the jail he has me in. This shit is cute and all, but this dude needs to get the fuck up off me.
Pushing his hands from around my head and attempting to yell out over his continuous barking of orders. I know it has only been mere moments since shit started going down. But that’s how it works in situations like this. It seems like hours when it has only been seconds or minutes.
“Taz,”
Nothing.
“Taz,”
Nothing again. Oh, you motherfucker.
Scream at the top of my lungs because I fucking loathe being ignored, “I swear, you big motherfucker, if you don’t get your big ass off me, I will reach down, grab your dick, yank it off, and feed it to you. I will make you a fucking eunuch and keep you because you are still so pretty…”
Lifted off the ground into Taz’s massive arms, he carries me bridal style towards the bar. All within seconds, and I’m so shocked at how quickly the fucker moves that I’m stunned silent. Hell, I just got the last word out of my mouth when he picked me up and was on the move.
Becoming angrier and angrier by the second, I try to get out of his hold, but He-man is not letting me go. And I know I could take him down, but then I don’t want to embarrass the manly man. He looks down at me with concern and softness in his eyes, but doesn’t speak to me. His head snaps back up as he takes long strides to wherever he thinks he’s taking me. He continues to bark out orders. I realize he is carrying me toward their safe room.
I remember from my research that they have one behind their bar. The gunfire seems far enough away that we’re not in immediate danger. I’m impressed at how quickly Taz and the club have responded. People's movements around us are methodical, as if they have done this many times before, which they probably have. I reach around my back and pull out my baby. Checking my mag and slide, I smile and hold her to my chest. It’s not ideal being carried around and killing, but I’ll make it work if I need to.
Finally able to have a three-sixty-view of the room, even through the dissipating smoke. I don’t see anyone from my team, which can be taken in one of two ways. Either way, this fucker needs to put me down so I can get to work. Although I’m pretty comfortable here. He smells so good and is so damn firm. Focus.
