CHAPTER NINE
Ruben
I storm back to the table, the scent of Lennon still on my nose, though she’s already gone. I’m wound tighter than I’ve been in a long time, the frustration gnawing at me. I close my jacket, so the consequence of said frustration isn’t evident for the world to see. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this—like something inside me was pulling so hard, my skin was going to crack from the tension.
My friends are already eating, beers in hand, looking at me like they know exactly what happened, and they’re not shy about it. They lean in with smirks on their faces.
“Damn, man. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Marco says, his grin wide. “Or maybe… you saw something else.”
I grind my teeth, pushing my chair back so it screeches on the floor. “Shut the hell up.”
“Touchy,” Leo adds, his brow raised. “What? Did you actually let the girl get under your skin?”
I slam my glass down on the table, not even looking at it. I’m not thirsty. Hell, I don’t know what the hell I am right now. “She’s trouble,” I mutter, more to myself than to them. Trouble I don’t need. Trouble I shouldn’t want.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I glance down at it. Aiden. I can’t help but feel the thing’s weight in my hand, like I’m expecting a call I never want to get. I swipe the screen, checking out the time, then curse under my breath. I haven’t had time for anything— anything —these days. All the shit I’ve been burying myself in, and now this. Her.
My jaw tightens, and I look up to find Marco and Leo both eyeing me like I’m about to blow.
“You good, man?” Marco asks, leaning in with that knowing look. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to let a girl get to you. Thought you were immune to the whole thing.”
“I am,” I lie, because I have to. I’ve always been in control. My entire life is about power.
Except right now, I can’t control the damn thing that’s going on inside me.
I lean back, trying to focus on the conversation, but I can’t. My mind is a fucking whirlwind. Her face. Her voice. Her red hair. The way she looked at me—like she wasn’t sure whether to kick my balls or kiss me. The way her breath hitched when I got too close. I can still feel her heat and hear her voice’s softness under the tension.
Shit.
I start to push my chair back, but Leo grabs my arm. “Come on, man, what’s up? You’re going home with a big ol’ stick up your ass, or are you going to make it fun for us tonight?”
I yank my arm out of his grip, my hand hitting the table harder than necessary. “I’m good. I’ll be fine.” I stop myself, too frustrated to explain. “I’ve got shit on my mind. I’ll catch up later.”
Leo shrugs, still laughing under his breath. “Sure, man. Whatever you say.”
I turn away from them, paying no attention to their teasing. All I want is to be away from the noise, away from the damn feelings that Lennon stirred up. She’s not like any other woman I’ve been with—hell, I don’t even want to think about it, but I can’t stop. It’s like a damn fire in my gut, and it’s only getting hotter.
I storm out of the restaurant, the cold night air hitting my face, but it’s not enough to cool the burn inside me. The frustration, the need, the urge to do something —anything—to release this goddamn pressure is suffocating. I clench my jaw and my fists. My body is a damn powder keg, and it’s all because of her. Lennon.
She’s been on my mind all night—the fucking week, and I can’t shake it. The way her body moved when she walked away. The way her eyes flashed with that fire, and the way she acted like I didn’t affect her when all I wanted to do was see her lose control. To watch her fall apart under me. But she’s stubborn. I can respect that. I want that. And that makes it worse.
I take a deep breath, trying to shake it off, but it only makes it worse. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a release, and right now, my cock is hard as stone. The tension is unbearable.
I get into my car, gripping the steering wheel too tight. I’m so fucking tight with need I can barely stand it. I need to blow off some steam. I can’t go back home like this, with all this pent-up frustration.
Hell, no.
I pull up to a club half an hour later, the bass of the music vibrating through the walls. It’s loud, it’s chaotic, and here I can find what I need tonight.
When I step inside, the scent of expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol fills my nose. The place is packed. Bodies moving, grinding, laughing. It’s just what I need—an escape. The pulse of the crowd matches the throbbing in my chest, and I move through it with purpose.
It’s always the same routine. Find a willing girl, take her to the closest hotel, and forget everything. But tonight, it feels like I need more than that. I need to feel alive again, feel something real.
I move through the crowd, each step making me more aware of the tension coiling in my body. Every woman I pass seems to look up, noticing the way I carry myself. I’m used to the attention—hell, I expect it. But tonight, none of it feels like enough.
I need to forget Lennon. I need to stop thinking about that goddamn fire she lit inside me. I need to make it go away.
I grab a drink from the bar and toss it back in on the go, the burn of the liquor only adding to the heat in my veins. My fingers itch to grab someone, to take her and fuck her until she doesn’t remember her name. The crowd is hazy, but I see a few women eyeing me, drawn to my raw energy. One of them approaches, a confident smirk on her lips.
“You look like you could use some company,” she says, her voice low and inviting.
I stare at her for a moment, my gaze flicking down to her body, but it doesn’t stir anything in me. Not tonight.
“Maybe later,” I murmur, brushing past her as I make my way to the dance floor.
I don’t need her. I need to release . My body is screaming for it. But every time I get close to feeling something, my mind flicks back to Lennon. Her stubbornness. Her eyes. That fucking fire she hides behind her damn walls.
I find a spot at the edge of the dance floor and lean against the wall, trying to push the thoughts out of my head. The music is thumping. The bass vibrates through my chest, but still, it’s not enough.
I’m a damn animal in a cage. Control. I’ve always had it. I’ve always been the one calling the shots. But with her? With Lennon?
I don’t know what the hell is going on with me.
Finally, I give up, trying to ignore it, and pull out my phone. I glance at the screen—nothing new. A few messages from Aiden, some work stuff I’m already ignoring.
My phone buzzes again. Another call from Aiden. His patience is running short. I don’t even want to deal with it, so I swipe it away. The last thing I need right now is to add more pressure to this mess.
I toss my phone back into my pocket and push off the wall, scanning the crowd again. I know what I’m doing. I’m looking for an outlet for this frustration. I need something, anything, to take the edge off.
But every time I find someone, my mind goes right back to her. Lennon. The way she looked at me. The way she made me feel. She’s fucking wrecking me. And I hate it.
I need to fuck this tension out of my system. But more than that, I need to forget that I’m not in control anymore.
And that, more than anything, makes me want her even more.
? ? ?
When I reach my condo, I lock the door behind me, the silence settling in like a weight. The city lights flicker outside the windows, but inside, everything feels darker. Too dark. My mind keeps drifting back to her. Lennon. Those deep, furious eyes of hers. The way she tried to fight it, tried to pretend she wasn’t affected by me.
But she was. I could see it. The way her breath hitched when I got too close. The way she stood her ground, even when her body betrayed her. I can still feel the heat between us, still hear the way her pulse quickened when I touched her.
And I want more. I want to break her walls down and see her unravel in my hands. I want her to lose control. I want to make her forget everything but the way I make her feel.
I drop my keys onto the counter. I walk toward the balcony and as I do, my fingers clench at my sides. The cold air bites at my skin, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough. I think about her again—how she stood in front of me in that restaurant trying to act unaffected, her body tense with defiance. But I saw the truth in her eyes, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to see her break in front of me.
I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I know what this is. It’s not just sex. It’s power. I want to own it. Own her . She’s not like the others. She doesn’t fall at my feet. Hell, I’ve never had to work this hard for any other woman in my life, and I’ll be honest. It’s fucking intoxicating. But I want it. I want the chase. I want to make her mine. I want to feel that fire in her eyes when she gives in to me. I want to hear that breathless gasp when I push her past the edge.
I exhale, and that damn frustration bubbles up again.
This isn’t just physical.
It’s deeper than that.
She’s a puzzle I need to solve, a game I can’t win unless I play it right. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try.
The more I think about it, the more I realize the problem: it’s been too damn long since I’ve had anything close to what I want. I haven’t touched a woman like this in… God, it feels like forever.
I lean against the railing, staring out over the city at my feet, the pulse of the lights below nothing compared to the one racing through me. I think about Lennon again—those soft curves, the way her red hair brushed my chest when she walked away. I imagine the feel of it tangled in my fingers, the weight of it against my skin as I press her against the wall.
And that’s when the thought hits me, sharp and unexpected. And it throws me off guard.
I want her. Not just in my bed but in my world. I want her to see everything I’ve built. My family. My life. I want her to meet my siblings… my father. I want her to see how we are, how we work, how I work. I want to see the way she reacts to the parts of me that aren’t just about sex, that aren’t just about control, but about legacy.
Lennon is fucking me up. Fucking up my mind.
I don’t know why that thought gets under my skin so deep, but it does. It shouldn’t. She’s a distraction, a complication I don’t need in my life. I’m not the type of guy who lets someone like her into my world. But that part of me—the part that’s used to getting what I want, when I want it—wants to take her there, to see what happens when I push her into my world. See how she reacts to the man I am, the man she doesn’t know yet.
And that’s the thing that’s got me twisted up.
Yes, I want her in my bed and tangled in my sheets. But more than that, I want her in my life and that idea? That idea terrifies me.
I shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts, but they only get worse. The fire inside me burns hotter, the tension winding tighter. I want her so badly. On her knees in front of me. Eyes locked on mine as I take control. I want to make her scream my name, feel her breath catch in her throat when I push her to the edge.
But then… I want more.
And I don’t know why. I’m not the guy who lets anyone in. But something about Lennon makes me want to break all my rules.
I won’t stop until I have it all. Every damn inch of her.