I hated that she’d got anywhere near this place.
I hated that Darragh had fucking touched her and that I was the reason she said yes to coming out.
I softened my tone. “You’ve had a long night, baby…”
She nodded, her eyes pleading for a forgiveness she didn’t even need to ask for. I believed her. Every word. She was too pure for a place like this, and the fact that I’d let my own selfishness lead to her being here made me sick.
I slid my hands to her waist and hoisted her up onto the counter. She made a tiny sound, something between a gasp and a whimper, that went straight to my dick. Her thighs brushed the outside of my hips as her legs dangled, her tight white dress already riding up her thighs.
She was captivating. Every man in that club had likely been picturing what I was seeing now, eye-fucking her openly while I tried to hide the way my mind was doing the same. The thought made me want to go back out there and start swinging.
“You ignored me…” she whispered, voice cracking. The hurt in her voice cut deeper than any of Darragh’s threats. “Y-You just left me on read for days. Did I do something wrong?”
She started messing with the hem of my shirt, her fingers trembling. She was clinging without even knowing she was doing it, desperate for reassurance, for closeness, for me.
“Not at all, doll… I was wrong to ignore you, but I… was going through some things…” I was being a coward again, hiding the truth, because I couldn’t handle it myself.
“Like what?”
I almost hesitated. Might as well just come clean now—but I couldn’t. The threat of Darragh was too fresh, too real. I needed her calm, safe first.
“I’ll tell you later, baby… I should’ve answered you. I know.” My jaw tightened. “I was in a bad place and I didn’t want to drag you into it. It’s not an excuse… but it’s the one I have.”
She was quiet. Her trembles were subsiding steadily, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet.
I looked into her eyes. “How ’bout we get out of here?”
She gazed at me. “I don’t… I don’t want to go home,” she murmured.
Heat rose in me. “Then don’t,” I said, low. “Come to mine.”
A look came across her then, a look of both fear and thrilled excitement warring for place on her pretty porcelain face. Her fingers moved around my back, gripping.
“I’d like that,” she whispered. “I’d like that a lot.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt, tugging me closer.
I grabbed her hip, fingers digging in, my restraint on the brink of collapse. I forced her to the very edge of the sink, my mouth hovering over hers as she clutched the fabric in her fists. Our eyes stayed lock, tension in the air suffocating, the scent of her fucking intoxicating, hitting my senses like a drug.
Her mouth found mine, first tentative but needy before she pulled back gently. But I chased her lips, devouring her, wanting…needing to taste her again. I’d been starving for her for days.
My hand slid into her hair, gripping at the root, angling her head back so I could kiss her deeper. Harder. She gasped into my mouth, her whole body arched into me like she couldn’t help it.
Days of silence, Darragh’s hands on her, every man in that club looking at what was mine… I poured all of that anger, that tension into the kiss, refusing to let her breathe in anything but me.
I groaned into her mouth, fingers digging into her hips to keep myself from grinding into the heat of her.
God, I wanted to do everything to her.
She didn’t know what she was doing to me.
Or maybe she did.
Maybe that was the problem. Because I was selfish, I was fucked up, I didn’t deserve something this soft, this breakable, this goddamn innocent.
But here she was in my arms, so dangerously close, so fucking tempting.
And all mine.
