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Will gave me a skeptical look that I ignored. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have her microchipped yet.”
I shot him a sour look, but the thought did appeal to me. “Very funny. This is my fucking job, dickhead,” I said defensively.
Will snorted. “Who the fuck are you kidding? You look at that girl like you want to eat her alive. You’re not that good of an actor, Petrov,” Will said, throwing back the last of his beer.
I looked at my phone. Twenty-one minutes. Fuck this. “I’m going get us some more beer.”
I walked off so I wouldn’t have to listen to Will’s grating laugh at my lame excuse to go looking for Emmy.
“Sure you are,” he hollered.
As I now plowed through drunken partiers, I was annoyed to realize he’d been right. About everything.
The minute I saw that frat boy motherfucker on Emmy, a red haze dropped over my vision. My heart was still banging like in my chest like a drum, the energy pouring through my system urging me to go back and pulverize that asshole.
He was goddamned lucky she’d stepped in because I’d been ready to pull out my fucking Glock and end him.
I got to the back of the basement and threw open a door I knew led to a storage room. I pulled Emmy in and pressed her against the closed door. Bracing two hands on either side of her shoulders and I stared down at her.
“Is that asshole why it took you so long to get back?”
She blinked up at me wide eyed, maybe surprised at my harsh question. “Well, yes, and the bathroom line at a large party takes forever, especially for girls,” she rushed out, putting a hand on my chest and rubbing gently, as if she knew my nervous system was still going haywire.
Though I flinched at first, I resisted the urge to fling her hand away. Instead, I allowed the soft touch for a long moment and fuck me if it didn’t work. I could feel my heartbeat starting to slow under her gentle movements—something I typically couldn’t tolerate, but for some reason, in this moment, didn’t want to stop.
“How did you know about this room?” she asked, looking around the small utility space.
I was startled by her question, but it was reasonable. It’s not like I was a member of this fraternity.
“Anya got me the floor plan of this place. I wasn’t coming here without knowing the layout.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
“I don’t take chances.” I paused, looking at her closely. “Are you okay?” I asked gruffly, still caging her in.
She nodded her head, causing soft, dark tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun to swirl around her face. Her disheveled state reminded me of that asshole trying to kiss her and my hands clenched in resurgent anger.
Seeing someone threaten her—get close enough to touch her—made me feel insane. It was one thing to consider the possibility of Orlov trying to get to her, but to actually witness someone trying to pin her down and force his touch on her brought every aggressive, territorial instinct barreling to the surface.
Those same instincts led to me dragging her into this dusty storage room. The need to have her to myself—and out of the sight of every other horny bastard at this party—rode me hard.
Mirroring her hand positioned on me, I placed my palm on her chest, feeling her heart thump rapidly under my hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a low, surprised voice, gesturing to my hand.
“Checking your heartbeat to see if you were telling me the truth. That you’re really okay,” I replied, as if I did this sort of thing all the time. I didn’t. I’d reached out for her without thinking, needing more physical contact with her.
My hand burned as it sat on her chest, and I was unable to resist stroking my thumb against the inside curve of her right breast through the silky material of her shirt. Her eyelids slid to half-mast. She breathed in deeply, causing my hand to press more deeply into the valley of her breasts.
“What do you think? Am I telling the truth?”
Her heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure it had anything to do with what happened with the frat guy. “I don’t know. Your heart is beating pretty fast,” I said huskily.
I watched in shock as she grabbed my wrist, moving my hand from the center of her chest to her left breast. My hand tightened around the soft weight, my thumb reflexively seeking out her nipple to swipe across it.
“How’s my heartbeat now?” she whispered, tilting her head back against the door, her hand still covering mine.
That was it. Everything I had told myself about avoiding her flew out the window.
