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“Why are you touching her? You don’t have to be her caring fiancé when it’s just us.”
Dash’s lightness succumbs to possessiveness in a flash. He stares her down as he replies in a calm veneer despite the hard expression on his sharp face, “As much as I like your threats and protectiveness for your best friend, that’s where I draw the line. The only way I’m not touching her is when she tells me no.”
I tense, expecting Rosa to lash out with another sharp insult or threat, but she leaves me flabbergasted when she smirks with something akin to satisfaction. Dash is too busy glaring to notice he played right into her hands by giving her the reaction she was searching for. Though, I also have no idea, except I know she’s up to something.
Before the situation escalates, I step forward to tug my smug best friend out of the room, only to not make it far before I’m yanked back against a hard chest.
“What did I just say, kitten?” Dash raises one eyebrow as I peer at him.
I feel like I’m in a tug-of-war between him and Rosa.
“That you’re clingy,” I tease innocently. His lips lift on one side.
“Okay… I’m going to wait outside before you both make me puke.”
Dash holds me hostage as Rosa walks out of the closet, leaving us alone and in a flash, I’m pushed against the wall with a starving man leaning over me.
“I can’t wait to call you Mrs. Stern,” he rasps, tracing his knuckle down the front of my throat as I swallow. “Then when we get home, I’m going to make you scream my name.”
My fingers dig into his shoulders and I whimper as he licks over my pounding pulse and bites down hard. Heart racing, my body hums to life when he softly rubs the spot he marked with his teeth.
“Perfect,” he compliments with a primal look in his eyes.
I almost stumble when he pulls back as though he was my anchor and grasping my small hand in his strong one, he leads me outside.
His hickey sits proudly on my collarbone as I sneak a glance in the mirror. So, I slide my long hair over my shoulder, only to startle when a low rumble emanates from Dash.
Immediately, I drop my arm back to my side.
“Don’t make me tattoo my name where you can’t hide it, kitten,” he warns. “I want to see my mark on your flesh when I make you my wife.”
In a few hours, Dash Stern will be my husband.
Husband. Fuck.
The rush that courses through my veins is maddening. Rosa is waiting near the elevators and the three of us step into the cab as it descends. My inquisitive friend doesn’t miss our hands intertwined like lovers or the bold hickey on my neck. My collar doing fuck all to hide it.
Surely, he can’t be serious about tattooing his name, right?
Who am I kidding? Of course he is.
“Justin is driving with us,” announces Dash, pulling me out of my musings just as we reach the ground floor.
“Are you also coming with us, Ro?” I question my friend, who remains in the elevator.
She shakes her head. “I’ll follow you in my car since I have to leave right after.”
“Okay.”
In the lobby, Justin is waiting for us, dressed in an impeccable suit, but he’s not alone. Even more astounding is his expression, void of his signature flirtatiousness that he wears like a badge. In its place is a dark mischief and dangerous intrigue as he stares down at a girl who’s glaring and yelling at him, her finger aimed at his chest.
She’s younger than me and I recognize her as one of the tenants from my building. Their stance suggests they’re in an argument while she’s throwing daggers at him with her eyes. As we get closer, I hear the end of her sentence, spoken in an angry voice, “I’m going to be homeless because of you, you selfish, inconsiderate, rich prick.”
Wow. She could give Rosa a run for her money in the cursing department. And here I thought of her as sweet and shy.
“You have another week to search for a new place,” replies Justin in a placating tone.
It backfires because she glares harder at him with her hands on her hips. “What you’re doing is illegal.”
