Chapter 21
Ihaven’t been to a club in weeks. Not since that night I couldn’t get off fucking Ashleigh in the bathroom here. Not since I met Riley and she became my sole obsession.
It’s loud, crowded, and hot, and I immediately want to grab Riley and leave the moment Blake and I step foot inside. Jax and Emery were supposed to meet us here, but I got a text from him an hour ago saying they got caught up.
If I had to guess, he’s probably got her naked and tied to his bed right now, the kinky fucker. He definitely has no room to judge me for spying on Riley when I know what he likes to get up to.
Blake and I squeeze through people on our way back to the VIP section. “Is this supposed to be fun?” he calls over his shoulder. “I can’t even hear myself think.”
Laughing, I respond, “You didn’t have to come with.”
We get to our booth, and Blake slides into the seat. “No, but this sounded a lot better in theory than practice.”
What he doesn’t say is that Tracy is the only reason he agreed to be here. He’s already scanning the VIP section looking for her.
“She’s not here,” I say, sliding in across from him. “Probably on the dance floor with Riley.”
I have no problem with Riley going out with Tracy. I’m not going to stand in the way of her having fun with her friends.
What I do have a problem with is her lying to me about it. And after the way we left things yesterday, she’s probably still pissed at me. So I’ll keep an eye on her tonight, make sure she doesn’t drink too much, then take her home with me at the end of the night.
A waitress comes by, and we each order a whiskey–double, neat–Blake opting for a rye. My eyes scan the club, searching for any sign of Tracy and Riley, when a blonde with fake lips and tits slides into the booth beside me.
“Hey,” she purrs, her hand already finding my thigh as she leans into me. “I’ve missed you lately.”
Blake shoots me a look, one eyebrow raised in question.
“What are you doing here, Ashleigh?” I ask, grabbing her hand and pulling it from my leg. She’s the last person I want to see right now, and just her presence is enough to annoy me.
“I was hoping we could reconnect,” she pouts, then leans in to whisper in my ear, “I hate the way we left things last time.”
She leans in to nuzzle my neck, and I grab her by the shoulders, moving her away from me.
“You need to leave. Now,” I say. “Or things will be left worse than they were last time.”
I wouldn’t hurt her, not physically at least, but I’m not above having her kicked out of the club. The manager would do it, too, without question. He knows Jax and I well enough by now to know we wouldn”t make the request without good reason.
Ashleigh pulls back further from me, staring at me with a shocked expression on her face. “Oh my god. You’re here with her.”
“Who?” I ask, though I already have an idea. And the thought that she and Riley crossed paths has me grinding my teeth.
“The girl I talked to in the bathroom. Brown hair, small tits.” She gives me a look like she can’t believe I could have any interest in Riley. “Honestly, Emmett, she’s really not your type. I thought she was being delusional when she brought you up, but you’re actually slumming it, aren’t you?”
I force myself to ignore the way she’s talking down about Riley, because if I don’t, this won’t end well. “What did you say to her?” I ask instead, my anger simmering below the surface of my skin.
She flashes me an evil smile. “Oh, not much.” Her voice is laced with a fake sweetness that grates on my nerves. “Just that we like to fuck.” Then, getting up from the booth, she adds, “Don’t you think your new plaything deserves to know where you’ve been sticking your dick?”
She leaves, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she goes. And it’s a good thing, because I’m about thirty seconds away from strangling her.
Blake clears his throat. “So, uh… is any of that true?”
I restrain myself enough to glare at him, rather than beat his ass for even asking in the first place.
He puts his hands up in front of him. “Hey, I’m just making sure.” He tilts his head to the side, motioning toward something. “But judging by the way your girl is practically having sex on the dance floor right now, I’d say she believed everything Ashleigh said to her.”
My eyes follow in the direction Blake is looking, and there she is, in the middle of the dance floor, bent over in front of some guy who’s grinding into her ass.
Something hot and dangerous pulses through my veins as I take them in. It takes all my self-control not to reach for the gun holstered at my back right now. I want to fucking kill this guy for putting his hands on what’s mine. But I know better. Shooting him in the middle of a packed club isn’t going to win me any favors.
Doesn’t mean I won’t beat the shit out of him, though.
Getting up from the booth, my hands clench at my sides and every muscle in my body is tense and poised to fight. I’m only vaguely aware of Blake getting up and stepping in front of me, my vision tunneled onto Riley and the guy all over her.
“Think about this for a second,” Blake says, putting his hands on my chest to stop my advance. “Don’t make a scene. Sit down and I’ll go get her.”
But then the guy grabs Riley’s hair and pulls her up, spinning her around to nestle a thigh between her legs. And when his hands reach down to grab her ass, I fucking lose it.
Anger like I’ve never experienced before consumes me. I’m reduced to nothing but a primal instinct to protect. To defend and fight for and keep what’s mine.
Riley’s eyes find mine just as I start to move, and they widen as I barrel toward her, pushing my way through people until I get to them.
“Emmett, don’t—” she starts.
But I don’t hear her. I don’t hear anything as I push her to the side, pull my fist back, and swing it into the guy”s face.
There’s a crack when my fist makes contact, the guy’s head swinging to the side and knocking him off balance. I advance on him, ready to take another hit, when Riley jumps in front of him.
“Stop it!” she yells, then reaches for him, her hands falling on his arms as she looks at his face, taking in the split lip I gave him.
It’s barely a scratch, and I want nothing more than to fucking pummel this guy, but then Blake is there, getting in front of me and telling me to cool off.
He’s right. Breaking into an all out fight right here isn’t the way to go. “I’m good,” I say, brushing him off.
The people around us who had stopped to watch the fight slowly return to dancing and drinking, and Riley continues fussing over fuckface. That’s when I notice one of the bouncers, Teddy, coming over.
“Everything good?” he asks, looking at me.
I motion toward fuckface as he wipes his lip with the back of his hand. It’s still bleeding pretty good. Guess I got him better than I thought.
“Get him out of here,” I tell Teddy.
Riley whirls on me. “He didn’t even do anything! You’re the one who hit him!”
I ignore her, telling Teddy, “Blacklist him from the club.”
Fuckface protests as Teddy grabs him and shuffles him toward the club”s entrance. Another bouncer meets them halfway and I watch until the three disappear into the entryway.
“What the hell is your problem?” Riley asks, smacking me in the chest with her fists. It really is adorable how she thinks she can stand up to me. It’s almost enough for the anger still simmering in my blood to dissipate. Almost.
I reach out to grab her arm, but she tugs it away. Letting out a sigh, I try to keep my newly found, delicate sense of control. But my patience is fucking thin.
“We’re leaving,” I tell her, then reach out for her again. She steps back and the miniscule amount of patience I had evaporates. “Either you walk out of here with me, Riley, or I’ll throw you over my fucking shoulder and carry you out. Either way, we’re leaving.”
“Fuck you, Emmett! I don’t want anything to do with you.” She turns to leave, and I fucking snap.
Reaching for her, I grab her and throw her over my shoulder. As I turn to head toward the back exit, I tell Blake, “Find Tracy and make sure she gets home.”
“You sure you’re good?” he asks again, eyeing Riley as she pushes against me to try to get down from my shoulder.
We’re not good. We’re so fucking far from good right now I don’t know if I want to beat Riley’s ass or fuck it. But I tell Blake, “Yeah, we’re good.”
He thankfully doesn’t say anything else, just gives me a nod before leaving to find Tracy. I head for the back exit, my arm holding Riley’s legs in place.
“Let me go!” she hisses, her hands beating into my back as she wiggles.
I slap her ass, ignoring the people watching us as I reach the back door. Pulling it open, I tell her, “You and I are going to have a long heart to heart tonight.”
“Just put me down and we can talk.”
I don’t believe her. I know she won’t talk. But I put her down, anyway. Only because I’m going to have to push her into my car in a minute here.
I don’t let go of her arm once her feet hit the pavement, instead dragging her across the parking lot to my BMW. Opening the passenger door, I push her toward the seat. “Get in.”
If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man right now. But she gets in.
Only when her seatbelt is fastened do I close the door and make my way to the driver’s seat. When I get in, she’s staring out the passenger window, arms folded across her chest. I don’t say anything as I back out of the parking spot and head toward my place.
It’s late, and the streets are quiet. When I look over at Riley, I notice the goosebumps on her arms as we pass under a streetlight. I flip her seat heater on. The tiny excuse for a dress she’s wearing probably does nothing to keep her warm.
I’ve never been a jealous man. Even when Riley tried to dangle Jeremy in front of me, it didn’t affect me.
Jealousy will get you nowhere in life. To be jealous means that you covet what someone else has. And I would never give someone else that kind of power over me. Instead, I go out and I take what I want. I earn it.
But seeing Riley tonight, willingly letting another man put his hands on her, it awoke something dark in me. It made me realize I would take out anyone who got in the way of me having her. And it’s a dangerous thing, knowing she has that kind of power over me.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel until my knuckles go white, jaw clenching as I try to rein in my temper again.
“Where are we going?” she asks quietly.
When I glance over at her, she’s still staring out her window. “To my place.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and I’m surprised she doesn’t put up more of a fight about going back to my place. Maybe because she knows there’s no use in fighting. I’m not letting her leave me tonight.
We’re both silent the rest of the drive, and when I turn into the parking garage and pull into one of my reserved spots, she quietly gets out of the car and waits for me to join her as we walk toward the entrance of the building.
“Evening, Mr. Raythorne,” Frank greets us. “Ma’am.”
“Frank,” I say, dipping my head in greeting as I steer Riley to the elevator.
When the doors close, she immediately moves as far away from me as possible, shrinking into the corner opposite me. I run a hand down my face. This is going to be a long fucking night, and she’s got an ever-growing list of things she’s going to be paying for.
As we ride up in silence, I take the time to actually look at her for the first time tonight. I’d been so blinded by anger in the club, it never even registered in my mind what she was wearing.
She looks like the personification of sex in her tight, little red dress. And those heels that lace up her legs? Christ. I hate the idea of another man seeing her like this.
My dick stirs to life and I can just imagine wrapping that ponytail around my fist as I tear into her cunt from behind.
When she catches me staring, she shifts uncomfortably. “What?”
“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask.
I hate that I genuinely want to know whether or not she was having a good time with the guy who was all over her. A part of me hopes she didn’t, but what kind of asshole would that make me if I was happy that she unwillingly went along with someone who was clearly being handsy with her? At the same time, the idea that she wanted it, that she was into it, is enough to drive me insane.
She doesn’t answer me, instead asking quietly, “Was she telling the truth?”
Her question catches me off guard, and before I can decipher what she means, the elevator doors open. I step out into the small entryway and she follows, waiting off to the side as I unlock my front door. Gesturing for her to enter, she slips past me, careful not to brush against me at all. I step inside and lock the door behind me.
Flipping on the lights, I watch as Riley takes in my place. She wanders into the kitchen right off the entryway, dragging her fingers along the long, granite countertop. When she reaches the end of the island, she heads over to the floor to ceiling windows covering the length of the living room and bar area. The entire room is one big, open space, and she takes a seat on the couch that faces the windows. I watch her reflection in them as she stares out into the night.
I make my way into the kitchen and lean against the island, shoving my hands into my pockets. It dawns on me then that I carried her out of the club in such a flurry that she didn’t have the chance to grab anything.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask her. “Did you have a purse?” I might be angry with her, but I don’t want her things to be stolen.
She makes eye contact in the window, then reaches into the top of her dress and pulls out her phone and what looks like her driver’s license, setting them on the coffee table in front of her.
A lazy grin finds my face. “Clever girl.” I’m glad she was smart enough to keep her phone on her the entire time.
Riley bends forward and starts untying the laces around her calves, and I can’t help the pang of satisfaction I get that she’s resigning herself to staying here. At least long enough for her to want to take her shoes off.
When she’s untangled the laces from around her legs, she kicks off the heels and then sets them off to the side of the couch so they are out of the way.
Catching my gaze in the windows again, she asks, “So was she?”
I study her reflection, and it takes me a minute to finally realize what she wants to know. She’s asking about her run in with Ashleigh. Pushing off the counter, I walk over to her, rounding the couch to stand in front of her.
Grabbing her face in my hands, I tilt her head back to look up at me. “What did she tell you?” I know Ashleigh”s version of what happened, but who the hell knows if that’s all that was said.
Her eyes dart away from me, and I fight down the annoyance that she won’t look at me.
“That you’re fucking her,” she answers, though it barely comes out as a whisper.
“I was.” She flinches at my words, but there’s no reason to hide the truth at this point. “But that was before you. I already told you, Riley. I haven’t been with anyone else since meeting you.” A tear streaks down her face and I brush it away with my thumb.
When she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “What aren’t you telling me?” There’s clearly something else going on here.
She pulls her face from my palms and I let her. “I don’t know if I trust you.”
It shouldn’t make me mad. She’s being honest with me. But it does. It pisses me off that she doesn’t trust me. Haven’t I made it perfectly clear that she’s mine and I’m hers and she doesn’t need to worry about anyone else?
I fight not to let my temper break through. “Why don’t you trust me?”
She doesn’t respond, but I can see the swirl of hurt and betrayal on her face, and my chest tightens uncomfortably.
“Why don’t you trust me?” I press, this time leaning down and bracing a hand on the back of the couch on either side of her head. She doesn’t get to avoid the question, not when I’m being open and honest with her.
“Because my ex broke my trust!” She takes a steadying breath, and I can tell she’s battling to keep her emotions in check. “And because you warned me. You warned me about yourself.”
I consider her for a moment. “What do you mean, I warned you?”
“‘The best indicator of future behavior is past behavior’,” she explains. “You said that to me the first day we met, Emmett. And guess what else Ashleigh told me? She told me that you don’t do relationships. That you just fuck around. So how am I supposed to trust you when you’re just fucking around with me? Since apparently that’s all you do with women.”
I know she’s upset right now–the hurt is written all over her face–but I can’t help the smirk that finds its way to my lips. “Does that mean you want a relationship with me?”
Her eyes narrow to slits as she glares at me. “No.”
“So, let me get this straight.” I stand back up, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re upset that I don’t do relationships. But you also don’t want a relationship with me. Am I tracking so far?”
She leans back into the couch with a huff. Crossing her arms over her chest to mirror my own, she turns her face away from me, but I can see the red creeping into her cheeks. She knows I’ve caught her, and she’s being a brat about it.
She says nothing, and her continued silence is about to drive me up the fucking wall. I roll my head shoulder to shoulder, cracking my neck like it will somehow relieve the tension in my body right now.
The stubbornness of this woman is going to be the death of me.
Uncrossing my arms, I let out a sigh and sit down on the edge of the coffee table so I’m eye level with her. Leaning forward, elbows on my knees, I tell her, “If you don’t start talking, I’m going to bend you over and fuck that attitude right out of you.”
She snaps her attention back to me, her pretty mouth agape. Maybe some time on her knees, gagging on my dick, would get her talking.
I grab her face, not allowing her to turn away again. “What do you want, Riley?”
“I don’t know.”
“Not good enough.” I increase my grip around her chin, my fingers pressing into her cheeks. Her face would look so pretty painted in my cum. Running my thumb across her lips, I ask her again, “What do you want?”
Silence.
I shoot forward, reaching down to grab her under her ass and haul her up with me.
She shrieks as I carry her across the living room. “What are you doing!?” Her legs come to wrap around my waist as I walk us toward my bedroom.
“I told you what would happen if you didn’t start talking.” I toss her onto the bed.
Reaching behind me, I grab the gun at the small of my back and double check the safety, then put it in the top drawer of the nightstand. Her eyes widen as she tracks the movement of the weapon, probably piecing together that I had it on me during the incident at the club earlier.
That’s right, baby. I could have fucking killed that guy for touching you.
Grabbing my shirt, I pull it over my head and toss it off to the side.
Her eyes move down my body as she finally says, “Okay. Okay. Just… wait.”
Pulling the belt free from my jeans, I watch as she swallows hard, her eyes tracking my every movement. Smirking, I toss it on the floor with my shirt and climb onto the bed, hovering over her.
“Last chance,” I say, settling between her legs and running a hand up her thigh. “What do you want?”
She stares up at me in the dim light of the bedroom. The light streaming in from the living room illuminates her in a soft glow, and she looks so fucking beautiful lying here beneath me in my bed. Suddenly, I don’t want her to ever leave. I want to keep her here, tucked away from the rest of the world, just for me.
Her hands come up to me, tentatively, her fingers softly tracing the tattoos on my chest and leaving streaks of heat in their wake. Every cell in my body gravitates toward her touch, wanting more.
I dip down to kiss her, but just before my lips meet hers, she says, “Promise me you won’t hurt me, Emmett.”
I pull back to look at her. Even in the dim light, I can see the fear and worry in her eyes as she waits for my response. Someone’s hurt her before; it’s clear as day on her face right now. I’m willing to bet it was her ex, the one who broke her trust. And I want to fucking kill him for it.
But I’d never hurt her, even if she can’t see that what I’m doing is in her best interest. So it’s an easy promise to make.
“I promise,” I tell her, those two little words filled with everything else I can’t say right now. It’s more than a promise. It’s an oath that I’ll stand between her and anyone that tries to hurt her.
She visibly relaxes beneath me, her beautiful eyes staring up into mine. “Then I want you. All of you.”
I grin as I lean down to kiss her. Her lips meet mine, timid at first, and I lick at them, urging her to open up for me. When she does, my tongue finds hers and I become greedy, ravaging her mouth like it’s the last chance I’ll have.
Pulling back, I nip at her lip, and the little moan she makes in response has my dick jerking in my pants. “You have me.” I give her a quick, light kiss on the lips. “But I think it’s time to remind you what it means to belong to me, since clearly you forgot earlier in the club.”