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Amber eyes locking with mine, there is no doubt rolling behind his stare.
“I’m never letting you go, Em. I hope you know that.”
Unable to help the smile that stretches my lips, I press my forehead to his.
“I know.”
The truth is he’s never let me go. Not even over the ten years we were apart. Ezra has always been, and will always be, the only man I see in this world.
The only man who owns me.
Nodding at that, he lets me go, but as I’m getting out of the car, I remember the insurance information for the girl who hit me.
Pulling it from the glove box, I run up to Ezra as he’s letting himself in the back door to drop off my keys.
“Will Priest need this?”
Ezra turns to me, his hand reaching to take the paper from my hands.
“What is it?”
“The information for the person who hit me. We didn’t want to wait for a police report.”
Ezra looks down to scan the paper, his eyes widening as his shoulders tense.
“What?” I ask, confusion flooding me at his reaction. “What is it?”
He just shakes his head, his eyes lifting to mine for only a brief second before dropping back to the paper.
Without offering me an explanation, he exhales, two words rolling off his lips that aren’t meant for me.
“Holy fuck.”
Shane
“That’ll be twenty-seven even.”
Son of a bitch. For three beers? Myth is highway robbery.
I toss down the cash and grab the bottles, smirking at the bartender when he gives me a smug grin and snatches the fifty from the counter.
Jackass didn’t deserve the tip, but whatever. I can afford it.
Weaving my way through small crowds and dancing bodies, I find my way back to the high-top table where Mason and Taylor are waiting, hand them each a bottle and turn my gaze out onto the dance floor, a steady bass beat shaking the walls.
A dozen or so spotlights circle the main room while colored overhead lights cast a hazy, dreamlike glow on the bodies beneath.
Half-dressed girls are rolling their hips while a few guys work their way around, looking to score. It’s too bad none of them can move like me, but I haven’t stepped out there yet to show them.
Upstairs are the fetish rooms in the club, but we haven’t bothered with them yet, not when my sights are set on one woman in particular.
Taylor nudges my shoulder. Leaning over, he speaks loudly against my ear to be heard over the music.
“How do you think Damon’s holding up with Tanner and Gabe?”
I’m a little concerned about it, to be honest. Damon’s been acting sketchy as fuck since his father died.
“He’ll keep his mouth shut,” I answer, our eyes locked together as he raises a brow in question.
