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“I think we're okay for now,” I jump in. “Thank you very much.”
The waitress gives me a smile, turns and buzzes away to check on her other tables. I turn to Emily, a roguish grin on my face as I slide my fingers out of her. They're slick with her juices. Her eyes are riveted to me as I slide them both into my mouth, relishing the taste of her.
“You taste amazing,” I inform her.
She's speechless for a second, but quickly finds her footing. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Hey, asshole.”
I groan when I hear the familiar voice – slurred a little more than before – speaking from behind me. Emily is looking over my shoulder, eyes wide. I turn and see the man from before – the one who'd been hitting on Emily and had been thrown out of the hotel earlier.
“You really know how to kill a buzz,” I growl at him.
He reaches out and pushes me. My mood suddenly sours, and anger rises within me, soaring to dangerous heights. I slip out of the booth and square up to the man who's looking back at me with a smug expression on his face, his courage obviously fueled by lots of booze.
“Aaron, please,” Emily pleads. “He's not worth it.”
“Yeah, Aaron,” the guy brays. “You're not worth it. Sit down and shut the fuck up.”
I step forward, narrowing my eyes and clenching my jaw. “Walk away. Now.”
The guy laughs, blowing a cloud of booze into my face. All around me, I'm aware of eyes turning to us as the tension ratchets up. Conversations go silent and there is a hush of anticipation in the air. There is nothing people love more than drama and a good fight. Fucking ghouls.
“Yeah? Or what are you gonna do about it?” the guy mocks.
“Walk away,” I repeat.
The guy turns to Emily and gives her a drunken grin. “Hey baby, you wanna come up to my room? See what it feels like to get fucked by a real man?”
He reaches down and grabs his crotch as he leers at Emily. A wave of repulsion crosses her features, and she looks away. The man laughs to himself and turns back to me, obviously thinking he's scoring points.
“I think she likes me,” he crows.
“Last chance. Walk away.”
“You ain't gonna do nothin',” he slurs. “You're all talk and –”
He never finishes that statement because my fist crashes into his face with the sound of a baseball hitting an old leather mitt. The man staggers backward, blood flowing from his nose. He trips over a table and goes crashing to the ground, pulling a chair down on top of himself. He howls in outrage as people in the lounge cry out in feigned horror – but the look in their eyes tells me they're eating this shit up.
My blood is boiling as I step forward with my fists still clenched, my need to beat this guy into submission overwhelming.
“Aaron,” Emily begs. “Please don't.”
Her voice stops me in my tracks. The man is on his back, his hands clutched to his nose, blood squeezing out from between his fingers. His eyes are wild, and he's sputtering as he tries to form words, spraying bloody spittle everywhere.
I see hotel security rush into the lounge and over to us. Two of them haul the guy to his feet. He howls in outrage as they drag him toward the door. The other two stand near me, their expressions stern.
“Sir, I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to leave the lounge,” the older man says.
I stare daggers through the man. “Why? Because I defended my date from a guy you threw out of here already?” I growl. “A guy who came back to start trouble?”
“I'm sorry sir, we don't tolerate violence on our property and –”
“Fuck you,” I hiss and step closer to the man. “If you were better at your jobs, he never would have gotten in here a second time –”
“I understand your frustration, sir –”
