I huffed as I interrupted him. “So what? Am I supposed to believe that you don’t?”
He ignored me, the tic of his clenched jaw the only indication that he’d even heard what I said.
“Secondly, it was a helluva lot more than a random fuck, sugar, and you damned well know it. And thirdly,” he ticked off another finger, “there is very definitely something between us. Simpson needs to understand that and back the fuck off.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at, but –“
“Let’s find somewhere a little more private for this conversation.”
I almost screamed in frustration as he slid from the booth, dragging me by the hand along with him. At the last second, I had the presence of mind to grab my purse from the table, not comfortable leaving it behind. I quickly glanced around to see if anyone else noticed what was happening. There were a few sets of eyes trained on us – some surprised and othersamused – and I decided that he was right. We didn’t need to disturb the other bar patrons with the argument we were clearly about to have.
“Ella and I need to use the office for a bit, Jag.”
I flushed at his matter-of-fact statement, partly from embarrassment at being the center of attention, but mostly from anger at his high-handedness. King wove between the tables, keeping a firm hold of my hand as I trailed along behind him. I caught the wide grin on Jagger’s face at the same time I saw the irritation that Ryan couldn’t quite hide. He was clearly not happy that King was stealing me away, but it was obvious that he also didn’t want piss off one of his biggest customers by openly objecting to it. I gave him a sickly smile, hoping it conveyed my apologies for the way things had turned out.
King hustled us down a darkened hallway, stopping briefly as he unlocked a door marked “Employees Only”. He flipped on the light as he ushered me into the room, then closed and locked the door behind us. Since I no longer had to worry about making a scene in the middle of the bar, I opened my mouth to unleash the fury that had been building. I propped my hands on my hips – a sure sign that I was about to let loose – and took a deep breath to calm myself so I wouldn’t scream like a banshee at the man.
“Dammit, King, what the hell are –“
“Dante,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“That’s my name. Dante. Use it.”
He placed his hands on my waist and pushed me up against the door, dislodging my hands from my hips in the process. I was so startled – and so livid – that I just stared upat him, completely at a loss for words. He took another step forward, so that his body was pressed against mine. I brought my hands up to his chest and pushed against him in a vain attempt to put some space between us. He shook his head slowly as he captured my hands in his, then pressed them against the door on either side of my head. He held them in place as he dipped his head and ran his nose along my check and jaw, then whispered in my ear.
“I haven’t seen you in three damned days, and I’m in desperate need of a little sugar.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You think you can just waltz in here and demand to pick up where we left off,three days ago?” I screeched, pushing against his chest again. He immediately released me and took a step back. His eyes narrowed on mine as he studied my face, as if trying to figure out what was happening.
“You’re upset because I didn’t call or text you,” he concluded, looking pleased as hell with himself for figuring it out. The man was clueless. Abso-fucking-lutely clueless.
“Upset? No,” I scoffed. “Pissed off? You’d better believe it, asshole.”
“Look, El, I was busy –“
“So busy that you didn’t have a few seconds to spare to send me a quick text in response to my message to you, or to pick up the phone when I called? Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t have one free moment to let me know you weren’tactuallyghosting me after we fucked?” I cocked a brow in disbelief.
I could almost see the ‘oh, shit’ moment of realization in the expression that crossed his face before he hung his head.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, ya think?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my snark.
He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Based on how tousled the dark strands were, it was far from the first time tonight he’d done that.
“I’m sorry, sugar. So fuckin’ sorry. I’m not used to being accountable to anybody about where I’m going or what I’m doing. I’ll have to get used to that.”
“Don’t bother on my account,” I shot back, causing him to frown.
“What does that mean?” he asked warily.
“It means you don’t owe me any explanations, just like I don’t owe you any either. Now, we’re done here, so I’m leaving.”
“We aren’t fuckin’ done, woman, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave until we get this shit sorted.”
I tried to turn around to open the door, but he made that impossible as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled against him. I focused my gaze on the black leather covering his left shoulder, stubbornly refusing to look at him.
