Chapter 18
Shannen
Did I choose this dress with Phoenix in mind? Yes.
Did I know it would screw with him the second he saw it? No, not like this—not with that look on his face that says he’s felt this exact possessive rage before
“You do realize I’ve been wearing whatever the hell I want for years, and that’s not about to change just because you’ve decided to start voicing your disapproval.”
“Shannen—”
“Phoenix.”
“It’s different now.” His eyes are glued to where the fabric skims the tops of my thighs. “You think this is about the dress, but it’s not. It’s about what it does to me. What it does to them.”
He draws in a breath, then his lips touch my shoulder, lingering there before he slowly drops to his knees in front of me.
Pride isn’t even part of his world anymore, only ownership.
“I don’t think about you with anyone else. That’s not where my head goes because, fuck me, my first thought when I see you is always how beautiful you are.”
He drags his face along the silver material, as if he’s trying to replace every thread with the scent of him.
“But I hate the thought of anyone else looking at you and seeing something they think they can have. Something they think they can touch.”
His hands slide up my calves, slowly gliding up the backs of my thighs, fingers spread wide, covering as much of my skin as possible.
“Thinking they can kiss you.” His mouth climbs higher, lips brushing the hem of my dress.
“Thinking they can touch you the way I touch you. Want you the way I want you.” His thumbs press into the crease where my thighs meet my hips, and the shiver that runs through me is immediate—something my body can’t hide from him.
I look down at the man on his knees before me.
He’s hunger on a leash.
Obsession with a pulse.
“Thinking they can take you from me.”
“I’m yours, Phoenix.”
“Say it again,” he whispers.
I take his chin between my thumb and finger, forcing his gaze to stay on mine. “Yours.”
He places a kiss on my stomach, the fabric of my dress the only barrier between his mouth and my skin. Then another, and another, each one a slow ascent as he rises to his feet, towering over me.
“Now come on,” I say, smoothing my hands down the dress. “I need my biker to drive us to the club.”
“That’s my label? Your biker?”
“Considering we’ve only been on one date, then yeah… that’s your label.”
“You’re heartless, baby. You know that? At least call me your boyfriend already. Even though that doesn’t feel like nearly enough for what we are.”
“You’re impatient and unrealistic, and you’ll get your title when I’m ready.”
The smirk barely leaves my lips before he lifts me off the ground.
“Phoenix!” I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He grabs my coat with one hand, still holding me with the other, and carries me all the way down the hall to the elevator. The doors slide open, and he walks us inside. My hand settles over his chest, right where his heart is hammering, and I wonder if he knows mine is racing just as hard.
When we reach the garage, the cool night air rushes in as the doors open.
Only when we reach his bike does he let me slide down his body until my heels touch the ground.
He doesn’t step back or give me space. He just reaches for the helmet and slides it over my head himself, his fingers brushing my jaw as he fastens the strap.
Phoenix’s hand stays on my thigh through most of the ride, only lifting when he absolutely has to, and even then, it comes straight back. I’m pretty sure we’re both so far gone at this point that even a few seconds without touching feels wrong.
It doesn’t take Phoenix long to get us there.
We pull up outside the club, neon lights bathing the building in pink and blue, and he kills the engine, pocketing the keys.
We head straight for The Dollhouse—Lianna’s bar.
Well… technically, it’s her father’s bar, but she’s been running it for years.
Her father, the charming piece of shit behind it all, owns a whole string of clubs scattered across the country, each run by a different kid from a different woman.
Last Lianna heard, she had six half-siblings.
Four half brothers and two half sisters.
All of them share DNA with a man who breeds like a stray dog that never had its balls clipped.
After handing our coats to the clerk, we make our way through the club. Black walls, gold accents, and velvet booths are tucked into corners. Music pulses low through the speakers, and the lighting is dim enough to blur faces but bright enough to see who you’re talking to.
I’ve been here many times, and so has Phoenix—though I wasn’t aware of that little detail until recently.
But right now, this is nice. We’re hand in hand, like a couple, and yeah, it’s fast, probably too fast. Part of me still can’t believe this is real, but I’ve never felt more whole than I do when he’s next to me.
Jordan’s working the bar tonight. When he looks up, he flashes a wide smile the second he sees me.
“Hey, beautiful. You looking for Lianna?”
Phoenix stiffens beside me, and I can practically hear him trying to work out how many teeth Jordan really needs to keep.
Fuck, I love it. I shouldn’t. I know that, but there’s something twisted inside me, something I’m only just starting to understand about myself, that wants to be owned by him.
Not in some romantic way, but in a raw, primal, slightly psychotic way that would probably make other people uncomfortable.
I want him to keep wanting me with this obsessive, all-consuming madness. I want to belong to him in a way that shouldn’t feel this good, and with anyone else, it would probably scare me. But with Phoenix, it feels like the safest place in the world.
“Is she in her office?”
“Yeah, she told me you’d be coming. Do you want a drink before you go back there?”
“Yes, please.”
“Your usual?”
“Yeah, and a bottle of water,” I add, then turn to look up at the six-foot-everything man I’m unhealthily obsessed with. “Unless you want something stronger?”
“Definitely not.”
Jordan disappears down the bar, and I tilt my head at Phoenix.
“You know how cliché it is to be jealous of every guy who talks to me?”
“I’m not going to change.”
“And I’m not going to stop talking to my friends because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“He called you beautiful with my arm around you.”
“Jordan calls everyone beautiful.”
“I don’t care if he calls his mother beautiful.” He takes a step closer, backing me against the bar. “I don’t like it. It makes me think about how easy it would be to break his jaw so he doesn’t smile at you like that again.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” There’s no hesitation. No doubt in his voice.
“The only reason I haven’t is that I don’t want you looking at me like I’m a monster.
” His thumb strokes along my hip bone, possessive, yet still gentle all at once.
“But make no mistake, baby, I’m still the monster who refuses to share you ever again.
” He leans in closer, his lips brushing my ear.
“I know I should be better than this, but I’m not, and I won’t pretend to be just to make you comfortable. ”
Even in heels, I’m still not tall enough to meet him properly, so I have to pull him down to brush my lips against his.
“I told you it’s just us, and I meant it. Besides, look around you, Phoenix. Everyone in here with a pulse has their eyes on you.”
“I haven’t noticed.”
“Liar.” I run my fingertips along his jaw. “You notice everything.”
“Not when you’re in front of me.”
Jordan slides my drink across the bar, then sets a bottle of water in front of Phoenix. “There you go, handsome.”
I shoot him a smug told-you-so look, biting back a smile. He grabs me by the waist and kisses me again, slower and deeper this time.
It takes him a minute to release me, and even then, his hands linger like he’s forgotten how to let go.
Phoenix stays close as we head down the dark hallway that leads to Lianna’s office.
I stop outside the door and knock first because it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve opened the door and walked in on something I can never bleach out of my brain.
Orgies—plural. Multiple occasions, actually.
I also once walked in on Lianna wearing a strap-on the size of my forearm while the guy getting railed was simultaneously getting his dick sucked by what she later informed me was his boyfriend.
So yes, I knock now like my sanity depends on it.
“Hey… are you decent?” I call, easing the door open just enough to catch her silhouette.
“Yep, come in. I’m just pulling up my files.”
We step inside, and I drop into one of the chairs opposite her desk, the leather cold against the backs of my thighs, while Phoenix moves past me without a word.
He braces a hand on the back of Lianna’s chair and leans in, scanning the computer screen.
If it were anyone else, the closeness might bother me.
Still, some feral part of me wonders what I’d do if he were ever this close to another woman.
Would I care?
Would I go full psycho?
He’s mine.
“Is this everyone who works for you?”
“Yeah, clock-in times too.”
“How long has the system been compromised?”
“Not long. But whoever it is knows their shit. They’re messing with the alarms, glitching the cameras, and wiping footage. I tried contacting the company, but they keep brushing me off.”
“I’ll need access to everything. Systems, footage, employee records, all of it.”
“Take whatever you need because at this point, they’re just pissing me off.”
“You call the cops?” Phoenix asks, and Lianna actually laughs.
“No. We’re not doing that. My dad isn’t exactly the legit type, and the last thing he wants is cops poking around his clubs asking questions.”
“Do you feel like you’re in danger?”
“No.” She shrugs, but I catch the genuine concern in Phoenix’s eyes, and it’s not just because he knows how much she means to me.
Over the years of watching me, he’s gotten to know her too, not through conversation but through proximity. He cares because she’s my best friend, and Phoenix protects what’s mine the same way he protects me.
“You want to leave this with me?”
“Sure, knock yourself out."
Phoenix settles into her chair, already pulling the system back up as Lianna makes her way out of the office. I move closer, crouching beside him and resting my hand lightly on his thigh.
“When you’re done, let me find you.”
Don’t look for me.
Let me be the one who hunts.
His eyes leave the screen, slowly dragging across my face, and I know he sees exactly what I’m asking for.
I need to understand the jealousy he’s felt over the years.
I want to feel that madness crawl down my spine and see what I become because of it.
“And how do you want to find me, pretty girl?”
“Make me take what belongs to me.”
His brow furrows, his jaw clenches tight, and he subtly shakes his head.
“Not that. Don’t ask me for that.”
“I need to know, Phoenix.” I slide my hand along his arm and trace those tally marks with my nails while he looks back at the screen.
“I need to understand what it felt like for you when you were watching me. When you wanted me close while someone else stood where you should’ve been. I need to know what that did to you.”
“I’ve told you what it did to me. You know what it made me.”
“Please, baby.” I cup his face, forcing him to look at me. “Let me understand what you went through.”
“Fine.” He goes deadly still, and something dark flashes in his eyes.
“I used to stand in the shadows and watch you choose someone else. Not once. Not twice. Over and over until I lost count, and every single time it felt like a betrayal you didn’t even know you were committing.
Every time you looked at them the way you should have been looking at me, it made me feel like I was dying inside.
Like someone was slowly ripping my heart out of my chest, and I stood there and took it because the alternative was not having you in my sight at all, and that would’ve actually killed me, so if you really want to feel all that, then go. ”
He’s trying to scare me into staying by giving me permission to leave.
So I do exactly what I need to do.
I turn around and head for the door.