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She stands, reaching for her plate. I jump up and grab her wrist before she can grab it. “I’ve got this.”
“It’s fine, I can do my own dishes. I’m used to it.”
I chuckle. “I know, peasant.” There’s nothing condescending in my tone. “Let me do it.”
She looks up at me, biting her lip. “Okay,” she whispers.
I can’t help but think about how much I love her mouth, how I’d love to be sucking on that bottom lip right now.
I thought I was meant to be pushing her away, but that plan’s gone out the window.
We stand here, staring into each other’s eyes. I don’t miss the way her throat moves when she swallows. I’d love to wrap my hand around that throat while I devour her sweet fucking mouth. My cock jumps at the thought. God, I need to stop thinking like this before I have a full-on boner right here in the dining room. I move my hand from her wrist, slowly running it up her arm, leaving goosebumps in its path.
She shivers. “Marnix…”
My hand brushes against her collarbone, settling on the side of her neck. I bet she’d taste fucking amazing. I’m about to lose all self-control and fuck her on the table.
I pull her closer so my lips are teasing hers. Screw self-control. Screw keeping my distance and trying to put space between us.
Tara is mine, and I want her right now.
My eyes flutter closed as I move to kiss her, but she pulls away. “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes to find her confused gaze staring back at me. “I can’t do this. I can’t get wrapped up in you again, just for you to push me away two seconds later.” She stumbles a few steps back. “I can’t. I-I’m sorry.” Turning, she runs out of the room like her ass is on fire.
“Tara,” I try to yell for her, but she doesn’t stop.
Shit.I don’t fucking blame her. I’ve left her high and dry twice now. I have no one to blame but myself.
Leaning my palms against the table, I hang my head and sigh. This painful rejection is my fault. Her not being able to trust me is my fault. It’s all my fault. Just like it was my fault I ran her into Reilly’s bed.
My text alert chimes, and I pull out my phone.
Fuck.
Rush:SOS. Security room.
I huff,looking down at the bulge that’s not going anywhere. Reaching into my jeans, I grab my cock, arranging it to be less noticeable. If Rush sees it—well, it’s not like he’s never seen a fucking boner.
I head down the hall to the security room. “What’s wrong?”
“Look.” Rush points to the screen that shows the front gate. In view are four men, all holding AR-15s.
“Shit. How long have they been here?”
“About five minutes. They haven’t tried to get in. They’ve just been standing there,” he informs me.
“Can you zoom in on that jacket?”
“Yep,” Rush mumbles, as he works on his laptop. The camera moves in, giving me a clearer view.
Draaks.
“Fuck. Give me the mic,” I command Rush. We have a speaker system linked to the keypad for the gate.
He hands me the black mic. “What do you want?” I growl into it.
One of the men smiles up at the camera, strolling closer to the keypad. I recognize him now—Rex. “Absolutely nothing… yet. This is just your warning, Taylor. You got a guilty man off for murdering one of my best men. The Snakes will pay—starting with you. I haven’t decided yet though. Would it be worse to torture you... or that pretty little wife of yours?”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling him not to fucking touch her. But I know better. Showing my hand would just give him more reason to hurt her.
