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His lashes fluttered heavily, a few spatters of glowing paint stuck in their length. When at last his unfocused stare swept over my face, the relief glimmering beneath it all made me wonder how the hell I stayed away for so long.
“I wished for you,” he whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back.
“What the fuck?” a nearby voice blurted.
That unchained beast inside me peered out through my black eyes. “What the fuck are you still here for?” I spat. “Can’t you see? He’s mine.”
“Wes.” The asshole who’d been touching what was mine stepped forward.
I snatched Wes into me, enclosing him with leather-covered arms. “Touch him and die,” I said, meaning every single syllable.
Wes made a strangled sound, trying to shift in the crushing hold. “Max.” His palms flattened on my chest, and he pushed. “Let go.”
“No.”
He didn’t fight. At least not in the way he usually did. Instead, he changed tactics… leaning up to whisper, “I won’t let him touch me.”
My hands fell to his hips as he turned, putting me behind him. I despised the inches between us, so I pulled him in so my chest blanketed his back.
“Theo, can we talk later?” Wes yelled over the music.
“Do I have a choice?” he yelled back.
My entire body tensed, and Wes reached around, stuffing his hand in the back pocket of my jeans. I settled immediately, the heat from his hand searing me even through my clothes.
“Later is better,” Wes answered.
Theo glanced at me, then back at Wes. “You gonna be okay?”
Wes nodded.
I watched until Theo disappeared into the crowd, then watched a little longer to make sure the asshat didn’t come back.
“He’s lucky I didn’t punch him,” I rumbled.
Wes spun, dislodging my hands and fisting his on his hips. “What the hell was that?”
My eyes slipped down his body, taking in all the paint and the way it highlighted his exposed torso. The low-slung, ripped-up jeans showed even more skin, making me jealous all over again. Forcing my eyes back up, I took in the colored flecks dancing in his curls. Huffing, he turned his face away, making my eyes turn to slits.
Shooting forward, I caught his chin, forcing his head to the side. “What the fuck is this?”
His eyes slid to me. “What?”
“You have a lip print on your cheek.”
He shrugged.He fucking shrugged.
Pulling his face around, I drilled my stare into him. “You let some other man kiss you. Put marks on you.”
A spark of anger lit his eyes. “So?”
“So you are mine.”
“Since when?”
“Since right the fuck now.”
