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Was this it? Was Sammy going to finally tell me exactly what he wanted instead of glaring or scowling at me or beating guys within an inch of their lives just for breathing the same air as me?
I knew he wanted sex. I wasn’t stupid. But I also knew that there was more to it than that and I was determined to find out.
My jaw clenched, a hot shiver racing down my spine over the fact that I would have to come face to face with Sammy sooner than I would have liked. It was too early in the evening for this shit.
Grabbing my bag, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and pushed open the door, not caring in the least if it hit him.
He grunted.
I smiled.
Once I stepped out of the car, Sammy was right there. In my space. He was too close. Way too close. So damn close that I could smell the leather of his cut. I could see the light smattering of dark scruff on his strong jaw but what I couldn’t see, was any warmth in his dark eyes. Whatever emotion he felt was long gone and destroyed by something tragic that had happened to him. I knew because I felt the same.
Most guys I had ever been with, drowned themselves in cologne. But not Sammy. With him, it was leather. Leather, sex, and man. Pure hard man.
Taking a step toward him so I could close the door, my shoulder brushed his chest. As soon as I closed it, I was shoved up against it.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared up into angry eyes. I had no idea what Sammy’s issue was with me. Maybe he wanted me like I wanted him, and it was new, so it pissed him off because he didn’t know how to deal with it. It was how I felt anyway.
I noticed then how his hair had grown in some. He still kept the sides shaved but the dark, almost black, tresses were a little longer than normal on top. My fingers itched to run through it.
Never being this close to him before, I could see that his nose was a little crooked. In the dim lighting of the streetlight, I also saw a faint white line in his left eyebrow where there had once been hair but now, it was a scar. Maybe it was from getting punched after saying something stupid.
As we stared each other down, I couldn’t help but think back over the few interactions we’ve had. He came into Rouge with his crew, ordered a few beers, chatted with the other girls and owners, and that was it. He never once approached me. Not since I started working here. Not since I did my last dance.
Why now?
Sammy’s hand was around the base of my throat, holding me up against the side of my car. A wicked glint flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed harder, forcing me up onto my tiptoes.
A gasp escaped me, something foreign rushing through me. Questions danced in my head but no matter what, I couldn’t voice them. No words left my lips as Sammy held me up against my car. It was later into the night, so it was dark enough that no one would catch us unless they walked by. But people making out, or even fucking in the parking lot, had been a normal thing. It was nevermything but now with Sammy’s firm grip on me, I was beginning to rethink that.
We had been going back and forth for awhile now, skirting around the idea of what could possibly come out of whatever we were doing. Which was nothing at the moment. We hardly spoke but told all with our eyes. He looked at me like I was the worst person he had ever met, and I looked at him like he was the ending to everything I thought I knew.
He drove me insane.
I drove him mad.
An electric current snapped between us, forcing his head lower. The muscle in his jaw ticked, begging me to touch it but I feared that if I did, Sammy would walk away for good. So I kept my hands to myself. For now.
He took a step closer, his pelvis pressing up against my lower belly.
I shivered at the thickness hidden beneath his jeans. I wasn’t a stranger to sex. Especially not when I used to strip for a living to make ends meet. But I had never experienced someone as intense as Sammy. His name almost didn’t seem hard enough for him. His last name was Butcher. I was surprised he didn’t just go by that.
Sammy released me, much to my surprise, and trailed his knuckles down the center of my chest. The lower they went, the harder my heart raced.
I clutched the strap of my bag and as much as I wanted to run, I couldn’t help but get lost in his stare instead.
As his fingers delved lower, he watched me. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. For me to tell him to stop? For me to say hurry the fuck up and do it already? For me to run?
I wasn’t sure what he wanted but I wouldn’t do or say any of those things. I wouldn’t push him away but I wouldn’t pull him closer, either. I wouldn’t tell him to hurry up but I also wouldn’t tell him to stop. No matter how much I was confused by his dislike for me, even if he never actually said it himself, it was there, looming over our heads like a single cloud in the sky. It was our little reminder that although both of us hated any sort of emotion, we embraced the hate. We wrapped it in our fingers and choked the fuck out of it. Much like I wanted him to do to me.
As his hand delved lower, his fingers skirted across my abdomen, over my hip, and around to my ass. Just when I was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. He swiped his thumb across the screen, a frown settling between his brows. After a couple more seconds, he handed it to me.
I took it, staring up at him.
He reached out, pinching my chin and tilting my head back. His dark eyes moved back and forth over my face. “You need me, you know where to find me.” Instead of waiting for me to respond, he stepped away from me and began walking toward the club.
I couldn’t help but watch him, wondering what the hell that was about. My jaw tingled from where he had touched me.
