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“Jesus. You’re an ass.” I looked at my dance partner. “Give us a second?” He shrugged and walked off toward the restroom. I sat on the bar stool and nodded to Brett. He looked at me then at Ream, who stood behind me. There was a second of hesitation before Brett grabbed a Stella then flicked the cap off and slid it toward me. Brett looked at Ream, who gave a subtle shake of his head, then he moved away and Ream moved in closer so he was standing between me and the bar.
He didn’t lean against the bar or look uncomfortable or even show a trace of remorse. Instead, he stood stiff and cold while looking directly at me.
I raised my brows. “Well, what do you want?”
“You hit me with some serious shit. And it took you two weeks to do it.”
I grabbed my beer and chugged back a quarter of it then slammed it down on the bar. The foam rushed to the top and spilled over.
Ream continued, “I’m not often wrong about people.”
“Hey, Brett, vodka?” I yelled as he served another client halfway down the bar. “You done? I’m busy.”
“Who’s the guy?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know his name. Nor do I care. His cock feels big. That’s all I need to know for tonight.” It was meant to hurt him, not that he’d really give a shit anyway, but it made me feel better saying it.
Silence. I didn’t need to look at Ream to know he was seething. The air was so thick around us that I struggled to keep my breath even.
Brett put my vodka down in front of me. “You good, Kat?”
I nodded.
Ream’s fingers curled around my wrist when I went to pick up the glass. My eyes shot to his. “Hands off, asshole.”
He kept his hand locked on me, eyes delving into me and I shifted uncomfortably beneath his stare. It was unsettling and I rarely felt that way, but Ream … there was something inside him that scared me. Not like he’d physically hurt me, and emotionally he’d already done that, but it was something else. A darkness that lay hidden beneath the surface. Well, I didn’t need his shit in my life; I had plenty of my own.
“You’ve had enough. I’m taking you to the condo. We’ll talk there.”
Maybe I had, but it wasn’t any of his business and I sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere with him. “There’s nothing to talk about.” No, he’d made damn sure of that. “We fucked. That’s all it was. Now let me go.”
“Ream.” Brett’s warning cut through the tension and Ream let me go, but I could see by the way his jaw twitched that he was trying to contain himself.
I picked up the shot glass and tossed it back, the liquid scorching my throat as it went down.
“We had two weeks before we fucked.”
Yeah and that was gone too. “Get lost, Ream.”
“Fine, we’ll talk here,” he said then leaned in so his hands settled on either side of me on the bar stool. “I needed time to take it in, Kat.”
“I don’t give a shit what you needed. It was a mistake. Now, why don’t you go find one of your groupies to fawn over you so I don’t lose my fuck for the night.” I could see the guy I was dancing with emerging from the hallway where the bathrooms were.
“Not a chance, Kat. No fuckin’ way are you going home with that dick.”
“Oh, you’d rather I’d go home with some pussy? Never done it, but I’m up for anything tonight.”
“Stop. You’re not going with anyone except me.”
“Hell no,” I said, shaking my head. “That tugboat chugged its way into the Amazon and was dragged under by a python two days ago.”
He grabbed me by the upper arms, and for a second I was a little leery of him. “You really going to fuck that guy, Kat?”
I put a hand on his chest, and the second I did, I regretted it. The butterflies lifted and the sweet ache between my legs rose. I pushed him back so I could get up, then snagged my beer off the bar. “Yeah. I am. Just like I fucked you. Now stay the hell away from me, Ream.”
I walked away, weaving my way through the crowd, feeling the burn of Ream’s gaze on my back. There was one second that I hesitated wondering if I was doing the right thing, but then it was gone. I grabbed the guy I’d been dancing with by the front of the shirt and pulled him into me. I tilted my head and kissed him.
***
Kat
Two years, eight months later.
The prickling down my legs and across my stomach really pissed me off. I knew the familiar sensations were a reaction to the impending arrival of the band after their eight month tour.
Well, it was only one band member that was the cause, and I hadn’t seen the asshole since he brought some chick to my welcome home party from the hospital eight months ago—after being shot by a sex trafficking psycho who was after Emily. I think it was at that moment I realized Ream was my poison. The toxin flowing through my veins consumed all the fight I had left in me when it came to Ream Dedrick.
And that night I felt defeated by him. I had nothing left. I think he recognized that when he looked at me from across the table. The usual rage lingering within the depths of his eyes had been replaced with … concern. I couldn’t figure out why, considering he’d never visited me in the hospital. No, the asshole took off the moment the doc said I was out of danger.
But even after that, my breath still hitched when I saw him. My stomach dropped like I was leaping off a cliff into a pool of water. When he looked at me it was all consuming, as if I was his marionette and he could do as he pleased with me. I kept my emotions on a short leash, but with Ream … he set parts of me free. I’d imagined what it would have been like if he’d never found my needle; if I’d never told him.
