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“You know what? That’s fine. Because I don’t care about it. I don’t care what shit you’re into. I am done trying to figure you out.” I duck under his arm and stride off up the street.
“Rose?” He falls into step beside me. “Rose. Please.”
“Please what?” I keep walking.
“Don’t be like this. I just want to keep you safe.”
Heat lances through my veins. He wants to keep me safe. It’s all about him. What Dax wants. What Dax says.
“You think I’m some hopeless loser,” I hiss. “You think I can’t handle anything. You’d wrap me in fucking cotton wool given the chance.”
“That’s not true… Rose.” His tone has taken on a darker edge, dripping in warning.
“No!” I grind to a halt and spin to face him. “I am sick of everyone else making decisions for me. Telling me what I need. What I should do. Treating me like I am damaged. I thought you were different.”
“I never told you I was.” He leans closer to me, his eyes falling to my lips and up again. And I hate the way my treacherous body still tingles under his gaze.
“Then I guess that makes me a fool.” I sneer.
He tips his head back to the sky with a curse. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just… You have to trust me when I tell you that I will do nothing but complicate your life.”
“Trust you?” I snort, anger bubbling in my gut. “Just like that? When you are literally telling me nothing that makes sense.”
I spin and stalk off up the street again. A neon light up ahead calls to me.
I need a drink. A strong one.
I walk straight past the doorman as he holds the door open for me, as Dax storms in behind me. I glance back in time to see him take some money out of his wallet and hand it to the woman at the reception desk we pass.
I thought this was a bar, but it must be a club if Dax has had to buy our entry.
I follow the sound of music to a set of double doors, a huge security guy on one side dressed all in black with a face like stone. I snort internally. Dax fits right in.
“Rose?” Dax snaps, trying to get me to stop.
I walk up to the doors and smile sweetly as the security guy holds them open and tells me to enjoy myself.
“I want to get a drink, Dax. Then you can drive us back and fuck off and do whatever it is you want to.”
I walk into the club and look around.
The lighting is low and sexy and has a red tinge to it. A long bar is to one side of the room, and various small booths and intimate cocktail tables with plush velvet chairs are spaced around.
In the center of the room is a stage. With a pole on it.
I dart my eyes around the tables and booths again. Women in small ribbons of material—silky, sequined, lacy—are walking around, stopping to talk to customers. Bending at the waist and exposing tight, toned legs as they whisper in the ears of those seated.
I stall, my legs freezing in place.
“You wanted a drink, Sunbeam,” Dax growls in my ear as he comes up behind me, so close that his breath fanning over my neck sends a shiver up my spine. “So let’s get one.”
I glance around, trying not to be obvious that I am staring at all the beautiful dancers with exposed flesh as Dax places his hand on my lower back and steers me toward a small booth.
I slide into the seat, and he sits opposite me, his expression dark as he leans back, watching me take in our surroundings.
“First time in a strip club?” He quirks a brow, a sinful smirk on his face.
He’s changed from moments ago. Because now he has the control. And the bastard knows it.
