Chapter 19
JAVIER
When Renée said she’d be here in fifteen minutes, I didn’t believe her. But there she was, striding into the club like she owned the damn place. Black cocktail dress, slit climbing high enough to test every ounce of patience I had left, hair loose and wild, framing that face that always left me unhinged. Dangerous. That’s what she looked like—for my restraint, my focus, everything.
Her eyes locked onto me at the back of the club, and then they shifted—narrowed—on the woman sitting too close. Eva’s hand was still on my thigh, where it had been for the past thirty agonizing minutes while I tried and failed to dislodge it without causing a scene.
Renée didn’t pause. She walked straight to me, heels clicking against the polished floor like a declaration of war, and stopped in front of me, looking every bit the queen ready to take her throne.
“You’ve got your filthy hands on my boyfriend ,” she said, voice like ice and fire all at once. My body responded instantly, and it wasn’t just from the jealousy lacing her tone.
Eva yanked her hand back so fast you’d think it had burned her. Renée’s eyes flicked to mine, and in a single, seamless motion, she slid onto my lap, hooking her arm around my neck like it belonged there. I felt a sharp, ridiculous kind of pride swell in me like I wanted to laugh and throw my feet up at the same time.
The table went dead silent. Every pair of eyes locked onto us, and I was eating it up.
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Eva said.
Renée barely spared her a glance before turning back to me, her lips curving into a smirk that had me questioning how much self-control I had left.
“I didn’t know you had friends,” she shot back, making me chuckle despite myself.
“She’s not a friend,” I said.
Renée’s smirk widened, her gaze flicking to Eva again like a predator sizing up its prey. Eva wasn’t a friend. She wasn’t anything. She’d shown up with Aiden and spent the entire night making one desperate attempt after another to get my attention, to drag me into her bed. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was women who thought they could buy my time, my interest, my bed. Well—any woman but Renée.
Eva made some half-hearted jab I didn’t even catch because Renée’s lips were on mine before I could react, claiming, staking, burning. She kissed me with a fire that had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with possession.
When Eva stormed off, Renée barely seemed to notice. She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, then leaned down, her lips brushing my neck, her teeth nipping at the skin. Sucking, biting, marking.
And it felt so fucking good.
But something was off. Renée wasn’t her usual bold, sharp self. This was different. Wilder. Unchecked. And my gut told me to take a closer look.
“Renée,” I called her name. She hummed against my neck like she hadn’t heard me, her lips still grazing my skin.
I cupped her chin, tilting her head up until her eyes met mine. “Are you high?”
“What? No!” She shook her head quickly, too quickly, her hair falling into her face. “I just had a few brownies.”
The next thirty minutes were chaos—wild, messy chaos, the kind I couldn’t get enough of and couldn’t control. Renée was determined to drive me over the edge, and hell if she wasn’t succeeding. She leaned in close, her breath brushing against my ear as she whispered things that made me want to bend her over the nearest surface and claim her right then and there.
My body was betraying me, responding to her every damn word, every shift of her body. The ache, the twitching bulge, the fire pooling in my gut—I was holding on by a thread, and she knew it.
And then she went and took things further.
There she was, dancing on top of my damn table, hips swaying to the beat, her hair wild and untamed like her. Every move sent my imagination spiraling into dangerous territory. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through my head. Ravaging her. Devouring her. She was chaos incarnate, and I wanted to drown in it.
Aiden let out a low chuckle beside me. “Where the hell did you find a girl like her?”
“Long fucking story,” I muttered, my voice tight, my jaw clenched.
“She’s wild, man. A fire. Perfect for you,” he said, and the other guys chimed in, throwing around words like wildcard and a handful.
I sighed, my patience wearing thin, my control slipping faster than I could reel it in. I turned back to the table, ready to grab her and call it a night, but she was gone.
I froze, and a spike of panic shot through me. If this night didn’t kill me, it was damn sure going to shave years off my life. My eyes scanned the crowd, and there she was—on the dance floor.
A guy was pressing up behind her, trying to grind against her. My vision tunneled.
“Hey!” I growled, my voice cutting through the music like a blade.
In a few long strides, I reached her, grabbing her before she could even react. She gasped as I threw her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing, her fists pounding weakly against my back in protest.
“Let me down!” she cried; her voice muffled against my shoulder.
“You’re going home,” I said.
“But I want to dance more,” she pouted, kicking her legs.
“You can dance at your damn home,” I snapped, making my way through the crowd and out of the club, ignoring the looks and whispers around us.
“For you?” She asked.
Fuck.
Once outside, I set her down in the passenger seat, leaning over her, my body caging hers in. She blinked up at me, her eyes glassy and wild, her lips parted in protest or anticipation—I didn’t care which.
“Keep testing me, Renée,” I murmured, my voice low. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing? Pushing me, daring me? I promise you this—if you don’t stop, you won’t make it through the front door before I have you screaming my name.”
Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushing. She shuddered beneath me, the defiance flickering in her eyes faltering for just a second.
I smirked, pulling back and slamming the car door shut before rounding to the driver’s side. My grip on the wheel was white-knuckled, my jaw clenched as I fought to keep the fire she’d ignited in check.