AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Like you give a shit,” I laugh. “Like any of you give a shit. No one cares what’s happened to me, Kiwi. No one cares about me.” It’s his turn to look stunned. Stepping forward, I shove his chest, making him step back. I’m mad. I’m pissed at him for blaming me for what they’ve done to me. How is it my fault? Why should I even have to stop them? They shouldn’t be doing it in the first place. “What? Nothing to say now?”
“Kens—”
“What?” I say, shoving him again. “You thought you could come in here and I’d open my legs for you since, apparently, I’ve fucked everyone else?” He blinks at me, his lips parting. “Is that what you thought?”
“No, I—”
“Then what? You’d fuck me, then what? Add another notch to your belt? Earn bragging rights at the bar?” I shove him again. My tears blur his face, and I bang my fist against his chest. “What do you want?” I shove him again, and he catches my wrists, pinning my hands to his chest.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” he says, then squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head firmly. “No, no. Idowant to fuck you, but not because you’re the club slut. Well, no. I thought you were, but—”
“Get out,” I say as I try to pull my hands free. “Get the fuck out and never come back.”
“No,” he says again. “Stop. I’m trying to think.” I jerk on my hands again, but he tightens his hold. “Stop it, Kennedy. Let me talk.”
“I don’t want to hear what you have to say!” I widen my stance to have a better chance at wrenching my hands free, but his grip is iron tight.
“Too bad. You’re going to listen to me.” His voice is hard, and it makes me pause. I look up at him and stop struggling. “I didn’t think you were the club slut, not until last night when I saw everyone touching you. I thought you were trying to become someone’s Old Lady—” I guffaw at the idea. That’s not me. Not now, not ever. “I was pissed at you today because I thought you fucked everyone—”
“I haven’t–”
“I know, baby. I believe you.”
Him calling mebabytakes me by surprise. It’s the first time he’s ever said it, and the way he did, the way his face looks, it makes me melt. And I hate that he has this effect on me. I shouldn’t want to kill him and kiss him at the same time.
His face darkens, losing any softness and warmth he just had, and chills ripple across my skin. “Tonight, you’re gonna point out who it was and I’m gonna kill him,” he says, his voice deathly low. I blink, then laugh. It’s a manic sounding laugh.
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m dead fucking serious,” he growls. “I’m going to kill the fucker. And if it was more than one, they’ll die, too. And if you say it was the entire club, then I’ll kill every fucking Berserker. If anyone touches you tonight, they lose their fucking hand. They say anything to you, they lose their tongue. I don’t give a shit, Kennedy, I will kill everyone for you.”
My lips part as I stare into his deadly serious face. His blond brows are bunched, his eyes intense, his hands tight around mine.
He’s serious.
It should terrify me. His threats should scare the shit out of me and make me want to call the cops. But they don’t. They make me feel…safe. He makes me feel safe.
I don’t give myself time to think, otherwise I would talk some sense into myself. Lifting up on my toes, I press my lips to his. I think it shocks him as much as it shocks me because he stays totally stiff for a moment.
Then he pounces.
His hands move from pinning mine to his chest to wrapping around me, pulling me to him. He devours me, his tongue sliding against mine, his teeth nipping at my lip. He slides his hand up my back and into my hair, gripping it tightly and yanking my head back. He licks the length of my throat, flicking it over my pulse before biting down.
“Ezra,” I moan, my eyes closing.
“Fuck,” he rasps against my skin. “I love hearing you say my name. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed.
He lays me on the edge and drapes his body over mine, rocking his hips against mine. I claw at his back as he bites my neck again, and the sound that comes out of me isn’t one I’ve made before.
“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you the first time I saw you. I wanted to make you mine, then and there.”
I kiss him before he can say anything else. My fingers tangle in his curls and he groans. He stands above me and yanks his shirt off in a fluid motion, exposing the whirling black ink of his tattoo. A cocky grin spreads across his face and I laugh.
“Did you practice that?”
“In the mirror everyday for a year,” he says, and I laugh again. “Was it impressive?”
“Not at all.”
