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The Vault was completely out of her league.
And I sure as fuck didn’t want another man to touch her, or even think about fucking her.
Picturing that wolf fucker touching her… I was losing my cool again.
But I had to keep up appearances. I was the owner of The Vault, and I had to be seen as someone who was in control, someone who wasn’t rattled by anything.
I leaned in closer to Storee, taking her chin in my hand and forcing her to look at me. “I need you to understand that I will always keep you safe. Nothing will happen to you while I’m around, do you understand?”
She nodded, her eyes locked on mine. “I understand.”
“And places like this.” My stare darted to the dance floor. “Acts like this… Are not for girls like you.”
I released her chin, and she leaned back in her chair. “But you have to trust me too,” she said softly. “I’m not a child anymore, Locke. I can take care of myself. In ways you have no idea.”
I smiled at her, my fingers itching to run through her hair. “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”
She leaned in again, her lips brushing against my ear. “I like it when you worry about me.”
I nearly groaned. The heat of her breath on my skin was almost too much to handle. I had to pull away from her, had to regain some kind of control over myself.
I cleared my throat, turning to Braken. “What’s the status on security tonight?”
He shifted in his chair, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Everything’s under control. We’ve got men stationed throughout the club, and we’re keeping a close eye on the guests.”
I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. “Good.”
But my attention wasn’t on the security anymore. It was on Storee. It was always on Storee.
“Is it always this busy here before The Hunt?” Fiora leaned across Storee to ask me.
I looked at Storee and then at Fiora. “How do you know about The Hunt?” My question was more directed toward Storee, but since Fiora was her best friend, I assumed if she knew, then so did Storee.
Fiora smiled. “Everyone knows about The Hunt.”
“Yes, it’s always this busy,” I answered, not wanting to dive any deeper into the yearly ritual. “The island is full of strangers and devious thoughts.”
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about the sexual depravity of the yearly hunting season with my dead friend’s daughter.
A squeal in the distance caught my attention as a man swooped a naked woman over his shoulder and spanked her ass for all to see. The crowd was getting rowdier, and the sexual tension in the air was almost palpable. The party was in full swing. It was as if I’d stepped back into time during a Viking pagan ritual but with massive levels of sex.
I saw women and men having sex in the open and in the shadows. Some were having oral sex, some were masturbating, and others were fucking standing up, against any and every wall.
Cocks were on display everywhere and pussies waiting to accept them. But tonight wasn’t about voyeurism for me. I needed to make sure everything was running smoothly.
Feeling my dick harden, which seemed particularly wrong considering I was sitting next to Storee, I stood up from the table, motioning for Braken and the others to follow me. “Let’s do a walk around, make sure everything’s secure.” I looked down at Storee. “You and Fiora stay here. Order whatever you want to drink. When I get back, I’ll escort you home. Stay here until I do.”
They all nodded, and we made our way through the club, checking in with the security guards stationed throughout. I could feel Storee’s eyes on me, and it was taking all my willpower to not glance back at her.
Braken must have seen the distress on my face because he spoke up. “You okay, man?”
I nodded, trying to shake off whatever feelings I was having. “I’m just pissed she’s here.”
He chuckled. “Clearly. But you need to relax. She’s fine. She’s safe. You can’t wrap the girl in bubble wrap, you know.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and it helped ease my tension a bit. Maybe I was overreacting.
Maybe.
