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I shook my head in disbelief. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to go back to The Strip. Not to mention, I felt like shit because, technically, I had started the entire thing. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn’t been trying to make Koah jealous.
THE HOUSE WAS ALREADY PACKED when we pulled up at Crow’s house. I didn’t wait for Sadie to get out before I exited the car and started toward the front door. I didn’t even worry about Joker seeing me. I knew there would be hell to pay if he did, but I needed to ensure Koah was okay.
The house was packed, and the music was loud. I searched the house for Koah while staying away from Joker, but Koah was nowhere to be found. I even stepped into his bedroom and looked around before I turned to leave. I was worried but knew I couldn’t stay in the house too long.
I was headed toward the front door when I passed the bathroom. I peeked inside to find Koah at the sink, cleaning blood from his face.
“There you are,” I said, stopping outside the door.
He looked up from the sink, pulled me into the bathroom with him, and shut and locked the door behind us.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face like he was looking for something.
“I needed to make sure you were okay.”
He sighed, tossed the bloody washcloth into the sink, and gathered my cheeks in his warm palms.
“You got hit. Are you okay?” He ran his thumbs over my cheeks, heartbreak in his eyes.
I hadn’t realized he knew I took a hit, but seeing the worry in his eyes warmed my heart.
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
He locked eyes with me as if he was seeing if I was telling the truth, and then he released my cheeks and ran his fingers through his hair in aggravation.
“What the fuck were you thinking back there?” he snapped.
The change in him was quick. One second, he was touching my face and checking on me, and the next, he was pissed and snapping.
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I defended my stupid actions.
“You were fucking with a Border Lord, Tori. That never ends well.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I ran a finger over the large gash on his cheek. His blood tinted the tip of my finger red before he pulled away from my touch.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
He scowled, and the cut on his lip started leaking blood again. “I’m good. I can handle myself, Tori.”
I grabbed a tissue off the counter and wiped at his lip. “I know. I just—”
He didn’t let me finish. Instead, he wrapped his large hand around my throat, squeezed, and pulled me into a fiery kiss. Panic rushed through me, and I tensed, remembering the last time I was held down. I pressed my palms into his firm chest, ready to push him away, but then his kiss softened, and his tongue swiped my lips, sending a rush of chills down my spine.
I opened for him, tasting him and the metallic flavor of his blood all at once. His lips slid over mine, taking control of my being and making me weak. The hand around my throat shifted, his thumb soothingly sweeping across my pulse, and my panic slowly shrank until my heart beat fast for him and not with anxiety.
“I hated seeing his fucking hands on you,” he growled against my lips.
He pulled back, kissing the side of my neck. He ran his warm lips up the side of my jaw before he moved in and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, loving the taste of him and how small and safe he made me feel.
Our lips were locked as his free hand moved down and began to follow the curves of my body. He pulled back, allowing me to catch my breath before he moved lower and softly kissed the spot beneath my ear.
“Fuck. What are you doing to me?” he asked, his whispered words sending a wave of chills through my body.
“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I answered, grabbing his face and pulling him back into my kiss.
He released my neck, lifted me like I weighed nothing, and set me on the bathroom counter. I opened my legs and welcomed him between my thighs. He pressed his hips into me, rubbing against my center, tightening the coil of nerves in my stomach. I whimpered against his lips, the sounds beyond my control.
He jerked at my hips, pulling me to the edge of the countertop and into his length in a rhythm that had me reaching down and digging my nails into his muscular ass. Bottles on the countertop shook, and the cabinet door behind my hanging legs thumped in time with us.
