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"I said," the guy comes closer, "why don't you share that piece of ass. She has a mouth on her, that's for sure," he chuckles just as my eyes widen in shock. "Aren't you curious what she could do with two c…"
"Raf," I whisper his name, but he's already gone from my side, the reaction immediate.
Using his left hand, he pushes me further behind, and using his right, he simply grasps the other man's nape, lodging his fingers tightly into his flesh before bringing his head into the wall, smashing his face.
"What?" I jump up in surprise, though a certain warmth unfurls in my stomach.
"Say it again," Raf demands in a harsh voice. The man is trying to get out of his grasp, but the position Raf has him in is not to his advantage, nor is the size difference. The man is at least a head shorter than Raf.
"The fuck man," he curses. Seeing he can't grab on to Raf with his hands, he uses them to prop himself against the wall, pushing just as Raf tries to knock him into the concrete again. "All for a piece of ass…"
"Say. That. Again," Raf continues, not even giving him the opportunity to talk before he's on the guy again, his foot making contact with the back of his knee as he pushes him to his knees. Momentarily disoriented, it's enough for Raf to gain momentum and strike his head against the wall again.
Blood pours out of the man's nose. From my angle, I can see his brow ridge is also busted, his teeth stained with red.
At this point, he can't even talk anymore, half limp from all the blows.
But Raf doesn't care.
There's a small crowd forming behind him, no one passing towards the club as they all watch in awe the altercation.
I blink as I realize I'm seeing a new side of my husband. One that…thrills me.
Licking my lips as I watch the one-sided fight and the way he easily subdued the other man, I can't help but feel bubbles of excitement build inside of me.
Maybe I'd half-joked when I'd told him I wanted to see him kill for me. But watching the spectacle before me, I have to admit the sight isn't a bad one.
In fact, my tummy does a somersault when the other guy tries to fight back and Raf parries all his blows, punching him in the gut and putting a stop to all the struggle.
Butterflies dance in my stomach—in my entire body—as I continue to watch my husband, his expression so serious, his features tense and grave. And damn if that doesn't make me hotter, an ache forming between my legs when I should be thinking of anythingbutthat.
Blood is spattered on his white shirt and up his neck, his knuckles already drenched in the red liquid.
But it's his ferociousness that strikes a chord in me. The fact that he's defendingme.
The man who's never been a fan of violence is engaging in itfor me.
The other guy is on the ground, breathing harshly as more blood pours out of all his orifices. And it's onlynowthat the bouncers decide to show up, coming straight for my husband.
Kicking the man to the floor, Raf turns, saying something to them in a hushed voice, and I'm amazed to see they leave him alone.
They do absolutelynothing.Taking a few steps back, one of them reins in the crowd while the other whips up his phone to make a call.
Immediately, I fear the worst—that they're calling the police.
But I soon realize that's not the case when Raf bends, grabbing the man by the hair and bringing him to my feet.
"Apologize to the lady," he demands in a deadly tone.
The man blinks, opening his mouth and closing it, as if he doesn't know how to proceed.
"Apologize for the names you called her, and apologize for disrespecting her," Raf continues, his voice chilling.
Even to my ears he sounds different—too different.
I know my husband. I know he's done bad things in the past, things he'dhadto do as his position required—that he's killed people, but never out of want, only out of necessity.
So, who is this man before me? Who is this man with the cold features and even colder eyes? Who is he and why does he make me feel more alive than ever?
