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Sly chuckled, slapping AJ on the back. “Looks like she doesn’t mind.” He pointed to the enamored throng closing in on Maeve. A cluster of men staring openly, checking her out, and a few men moving in close enough to rub themselves against her.
“Sally and Anna should be with her,” AJ snapped, wondering where the hell his sister was and what the hell she was thinking bringing Maeve to the club—and dressed like that.
“They’re right there,” Sly answered, tipping his chin toward where Sally and Anna were dancing with each other not more than a few feet away, their gazes locked on their friend, their faces bright with wicked grins.
They wanted Maeve to get fucking mauled!
Without giving himself a moment to actually think about what the hell he was doing, he pushed away from the wall where he’d been standing, sipping a beer, and headed toward the center of the throng of admirers.
Shoving assholes out of the way, he was soon standing before a flushed, smiling Maeve, his heart racing.
Startled, Maeve looked up at him, her brilliant smile falling from her face. The loss of it like a steel pike through his chest. Why couldn’t she smile at him like she had at those other men?
Because you’re her boss, and you’re coming to ruin her fun.
Fuck that! That woman was headed for a catastrophic mistake if she continued to invite every leering jackass in the club to come touch her.
They had no right to touch her, to even stand as close as they were. He refused to listen to the sneering voice in his head grumbling that the right was his alone. Because that was bullshit. She wasn’t his, either.
“AJ?” Maeve breathed, pushing strands of hair off her face where they’d stuck to her forehead. She was sweaty, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright and shiny, like two precious sapphires in flames.
Beautiful.
Shaking himself, he grabbed her shoulder and glowered down at her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barked, making Maeve jerk, her once straight shoulders and loose frame drooping and tensing.
Shit, fuck! He didn’t mean for her to crawl back into her shell. He only meant for her to…. To what? She was having a good time and you ruined it.
But those men were too close. Touching her.
Like you want to.
Fuck, shit!
Sally and Anna pushed in beside Maeve and glared at him. Sally slapped his hand where it was gripping Maeve a little too tightly. “What the hell are you doing? She was just dancing, enjoying herself. You’re the one barging in like an asshole,” Sally spat.
Behind him, Sly and Blaze muttering something to one another under their breath, which only made AJ all the more pissed.
He was acting like an asshole, which was so out of character for him, but he just couldn’t stop himself. He’d seen Maeve, saw the other men, and the need to protect had hit him so hard, it felt like his ribs were cracking under the force.
AJ couldn’t give an answer that didn’t make him look like a jerk, so he kept his mouth shut and took a step back.
Maeve’s expression was closed, her once bright eyes dimmed.
Goddammit!
“Come on, Mae, let’s grab some drinks. Maybe AJ will have chilled the hell out by then,” Anna said, glaring at AJ before pulling Maeve into her arms and leading her through the crowd and toward the bar.
Tension rolled through him, his body thrumming—and not from the Night Panda song blasting through the crowded, humid room.
What the hell had possessed him to do that? That wasn’t him.
No. It was her. Something about her had driven him to momentary madness.
“Well, that was a clusterfuck, man.” Blaze handed AJ a cold beer, which he downed in four gulps.
Sly handed AJ a heavy truth. “I think she got under your skin.”
No fuck, he mentally snarked.
And it didn’t slip his notice that he hadn’t thought of Swan all night.
