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Chapter Twenty-four

Zadie

Amir’swarmbreathandcold lips brushed my skin, making me shiver, which was a difficult task since I was hot from dancing and being pressed against him for the last hour. I was still pressed against him, though now he had me draped across his lap. We’d just sat down in a private booth in the VIP lounge of some club in a beach town not far from Savage River.

“Cold?” he murmured beside my ear.

“Your lips are,” I replied.

He took my chin in his hand, tipping my head to the side to touch his lips to mine. It didn’t end in a touch. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, parting them to sweep inside. He licked the vodka and cranberry juice off my tongue, humming with satisfaction at the taste of me. His hands took my hips, pulling them back until my ass was on top of his growing erection. I pressed down on him, teasing him, while searching for friction too. Dancing with Amir turned me on. The way he moved, the way he held me, set my skin alight. I loved that he wasn’t afraid to really get into the music. He didn’t just grind on me. My man had real moves.

“Fuck. I have to stop kissing you before I come in my pants.”

The way he said it, he sounded genuinely tortured. His desire for me gave me a heady buzz of power along my skin. I never imagined being the reason a man would lose control, especially a man like Amir who held his reins so tight, they were practically embedded in his fists.

“Don’t do that.” I nibbled his chin. “Your cum is mine.”

He sucked in a harsh breath. “Jesus, Zadie. I’m already on the edge and you say shit like that? You want me to take you right here? I’m almost to the point I do not care who sees.”

I didn’t believe him. I mean, I did believe he wanted inside me, but not the other part. Amir would never be at the point he didn’t care who saw me.

It was just as well, because we weren’t alone anymore.

“Yooooo, what’s good?” Julien threw himself down on the opposite side of the booth, Marco following with Vanessa clinging to his shoulder like a barnacle. Unfortunately, she looked nothing like a barnacle in a white dress that was so skintight, I almost felt I was seeing her naked.

Jealousy swam in my stomach like an anaconda, so big and fast, I had to press a hand to my middle so I didn’t get sick. This was a woman Amir had slept with. A woman whose hip bones were visible, stomach didn’t roll when she sat down, a woman who—

Amir gripped my nape, crushed his lips to mine, and drowned me and my thoughts in a soul-destroying kiss. He only stopped when Julien cheered for us, yelling over the music, “Unh, unh, get it, get it.”

I hid my hot face on Amir's shoulder while he talked to his boys like nothing had happened. Any time Vanessa tried to grab his attention, he flat out ignored her. I wished she wasn’t sitting with us, but at the same time, I was glad she was. Amir wasn’t being subtle about his disinterest in her, and though I didn’t love the idea of her feelings being hurt, I also wanted her to understand Amir wasn’t an option for her anymore.

Eventually, she got up to leave, hesitating for a moment like one of us would stop her, but not even Marco asked her to stay. I didn’t like her, but when she flicked her long hair behind her shoulders and swayed her hips, I couldn’t say I didn’t watch her perfect butt bounce as she made her exit.

Julien shook his head. “Dude, you have to get better taste.”

Marco gave a lazy shrug. “Easy pussy is easy pussy. At least I know she’s not gonna catch feelings since her heart already belongs to another.”

Amir held his hands up. “Not to me. She left that shit on my doorstep and I let it freeze. It’d be nice if she didn’t have a presence at the house anymore, but I’m not gonna tell you what to do.”

Marco shrugged again. “All right. It’s no skin off my back. Plenty of other bitches.”

I brought my head up to ask Julien what his type was when a man appeared at our table. He was dressed like most of the men here, in a button-down and fitted jeans, but he was strung out, jittery.

“Hey, man.” He addressed Amir, white-knuckling the end of the table. “Can I talk to you?”

“No. You need to walk away, César.”

He leaned over, and up close, I saw the sweat beading on his upper lip, the red rimming his nostrils, the broken blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. “It’ll just take a minute. I’ll buy your next round, okay?”

“No.” Amir shifted me from his lap onto the bench then pushed out of the booth, rising a head above the other man. “You don’t approach me. That isn’t how this works.”

The man backed up a step, wringing his hands. “I know, I know. I apologize. I’m just in a bad way, and I need—”

Amir’s hand came down so hard on the guy’s shoulder, he staggered. “Don’t say another fucking word. I said no. The disrespect you’re showing me by approaching me in public and speaking to me out of turn is so fucking audacious, I can barely believe it’s happening. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, kid. Damn lucky.”

The guy bowed his head, but he didn’t move away. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his mouth was moving, moving, almost like he was chanting. His entire body was moving, bouncing knees, scratching arms, twitching shoulders. He definitely seemed to be in a bad way.

Amir closed in on him, bumping his chest, and only then did he stagger back. His mouth kept moving, and though I couldn’t hear his pleas as Amir herded him away from us, I knew from the expression of anguish in his eyes that was what they were.

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