His grip adjusts instantly, protective and instinctive, angling me so my dress doesn’t ride up, hiding me from the club’s clientele.
“Wiggle again,” he snaps, “and I’ll throw you over my shoulder instead.”
My heart lurches. Heat floods my cheeks as he carries me through a parted sea of stunned strangers recording us.
His arms flex with every step toward the VIP lounge.
Melody spots us, eyes narrowing with amusement.
“What the hell, Dom?” she shouts over the music as we approach.
Dom shifts me slightly, lowering me to kiss Melody on the head. “Do you need anything?” he asks, acting like he’s not carrying a girl like a hostage.
“Uh, I’m okay.” She glances at me.
I plant one hand on my hip, the other still around his neck, shooting him a look that should translate to put me down.
Dominic ignores me and turns to the WAGs. A few bite back amused smiles as he straightens.
“Ladies.” He nods. “Enjoying your night?”
Before Melody or anyone can protest, Dom turns away and starts walking toward the exit. He shields me from every bumping body with a possessive sweep of his shoulders.
The exit doors burst open; warm night air hits my face. He lets go of my back to open the door to his G-Wagon and guides me inside.
“I don’t want to go home,” I shriek as my ass hits the seat.
He leans over me, his size and scent drowning rational thought. He grabs the seatbelt, pulls it across my body, and clicks it with a sharp snap. Then he bracesone hand on the car frame, lowering his face until it hovers an inch from mine.
“Fun’s over.”
He’s so close the rest of the world stops existing. His eyes flick slowly to my mouth before he pushes away and slams the door shut.
The moment the car stops, I don’t wait. I throw the door open and stumble out. My head is buzzing from alcohol and adrenaline, and I don’t look back once as I storm toward the house, keys already in my hand.
I hear his car door slam behind me, then his heavy steps following.
I fumble with the lock before I shove it open and storm inside.
I try to slam it behind me, but his hand catches the edge. He steps in, forcing it wide—then shuts it hard enough to rattle the frame.
“Stop.” His voice is deceptively calm.
I whirl around, breathless. “What?!”
“You ignored me.” His voice is calm as he steps toward me.
“That’s why you humiliated me in front of everyone?” I laugh sharply.
“Humiliated you?” he echoes. “I called you fourteen times.”
“Oh, poor you,” I mock.
I thought his face couldn’t get any more intimidating. I was wrong. The look he’s giving me right now would make sober me crumble. But the alcohol running in my veins makes me reckless.
“Why,” he asks slowly, voice dropping, “did that fucker think you’re single?”
“Because I told him I was,” I say with a shrug.
