Ruby #2
“I won’t hesitate to call,” Ruby said. That was the truth.
Something in her had shifted. Fear was still there—but it had sharpened into resolve.
This time, she’d be alert. This time, she’d let people stand with her.
And when Ant found him—because she believed he would—she prayed he wouldn’t do anything crazy.
Banshee nodded, “Good,” she breathed. “I assume that you brought your bodyguard with you.”
Ruby couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Yeah, he’s by the front door, and Bolt is by the back. They said that if anyone wants to get into Savage Hell unwelcome, they will have to go through them.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, I guess that we’re all extra safe tonight. Where are you staying?” Banshee asked.
“With Ant,” she almost whispered. Ruby looked around the room to find most of the Harlots watching her, and she knew that her time for secrecy was over. “I guess I’m going to have to tell them.”
Banshee looked around the room and nodded. “Yep, but you will find that every one of them has your back. And if you change your mind about staying with Ant, and don’t mind a few screaming kids, you are welcome to stay with my family.”
Ruby pulled Banshee in for a quick hug. “Thank you for that, but right now, everything is good with him.”
“Good as in you’re sleeping with him, or good as in you forgave him for being an ass?” Banshee asked.
“The second part,” Ruby insisted. Flashes of Ant half-naked ran through her head again, and she practically had a hot flash standing there. “Um, I need to run to the ladies’ room.”
“We’ll wait to start church until you get back,” Banshee called after her.
She made the mistake of turning back to find her club’s Prez smiling like a loon at her.
She knew that Banshee could read her like a book, and the very last thing she needed was for her to pick up on her overly active hormones right now.
Falling into bed with Ant might be fun, but it wasn’t something that she could afford to do.
She needed his help now, with her crazy stalker, and sleeping with him would only complicate everything.
They got home later that night, and Ant didn’t say two words to her on the ride home. She worried that she had made him mad somehow, but they barely talked while she was hanging out with the Harlots.
As soon as they got home, she changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth. She had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, and she was dog tired from the emotional day she had.
When she walked back downstairs, she couldn’t find Ant. She worried that he had left, but when she turned the corner and found him standing in the kitchen, she let out the breath she didn’t know that she had been holding.
It wasn’t the fear that pushed her toward him. It was the relief. Relief that he was still there.
Relief that he hadn’t taken off and left her there alone. Relief that someone had looked at her, truly looked, and chosen to stay.
Ant was in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, hands braced on the counter like he was holding himself together through sheer force of will. The tension in him was coiled tight, almost vibrating. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.
“You didn’t eat anything tonight,” he said without turning around.
“I’m not hungry,” she lied.
“You have to be hungry, Ruby. You worked all day and then came home and went straight out to see the Harlots. You have to be starving,” Ant insisted. Ruby stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. Close enough to smell soap and leather and something uniquely him.
“You’re blaming yourself,” she said quietly.
“I should’ve known,” he replied. “Should’ve seen it.”
“You’re not psychic,” she teased.
“No. But I’m trained to read men like that,” he said. She slid her hand over his back, palm flattening between his shoulder blades. He went still beneath her touch. As though he was waiting for her to make the next move.
“You can’t carry every monster in the world on your shoulders,” she whispered. His breathing became slower and deeper.
“You almost became one of his victims,” he said roughly.
“But I didn’t because you were there, Ant,” she insisted. Her fingers curled in his shirt. “You saved me from him, not once but twice,” she whispered.
He turned then, and the look in his eyes wasn’t just anger anymore.
It wasn’t just protectiveness. It was hunger.
Not the kind of hunger she saw in the eyes of men who had come to the club to watch her dance.
Not the kind of hunger she got from men who thought they’d paid for access to her body.
This was different and dangerous in a way that made her pulse jump.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“I’ve been shaking for two days,” she joked. His hand lifted slowly, giving her time to step back, but she didn’t. His knuckles brushed her cheek, barely there.
“Tell me to stop,” he said.
Ruby didn’t hesitate. “Don’t stop, Ant.” That seemed to be the only green light that he needed. He dipped his head to kiss her, and she didn’t back away from him—she couldn’t now. Ruby wanted to kiss him more than she had ever wanted anything.
The kiss wasn’t soft. It was restrained fire. His mouth found hers like he’d been holding back for too long, like every unsaid thing between them had condensed into this moment. Ruby rose onto her toes, gripping his shirt, needing something solid, something real—him.
He groaned low in his throat when she pressed closer. His hands slid to her waist — firm but not claiming as his thumbs dug in just enough to remind her he was there. Not taking or demanding, but asking her permission. She answered by kissing him harder.
There was no stage light. No performance and no pretending—just her. When his hands trailed up her sides, under the hem of her shirt, her breath caught, and he paused.
“Ruby,” he said, his voice thick with everything that they hadn’t said to each other yet. “If this is about proving something—”
“It’s not,” she cut in. “It’s about finally doing something that I want to do.” He searched her face as though making sure that they were on the same page. And when he saw the certainty in her eyes staring back at him, something in him seemed to break loose.
He lifted her onto the counter in one smooth motion, his body settling between her knees.
The contact made her gasp — heat meeting heat, tension meeting tension.
She wrapped her legs around his hips without thinking.
His mouth moved to her neck, slower now.
Every move he made felt more intentional.
Every touch felt measured, like he was memorizing her.
Her hands slid into his hair, tugging lightly. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”
His breath ghosted over her skin. “I do.” The difference between this and the club hit her like lightning. There, she’d controlled every inch. Every angle. Every smile. But here, she just let go.
When his hand slid along her thigh, pushing the fabric higher, she didn’t tense. The power was still hers — because she was giving it.
His forehead pressed to hers. “You sure?” he asked one last time.
She nodded. “Yes.” Ruby felt wanted for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t like the men down at the club watching her with lust in their eyes. When Ant looked at her, she felt special, but most of all, wanted.
Ant tugged her to the edge of the counter, helping her shimmy out of her pants, leaving her bare on his countertop.
She felt as though she was holding her breath waiting for him to kiss his way down her body.
He settled between her legs, licking his way through her drenched folds.
Ruby grabbed onto the counter like it was the only thing keeping her from falling on the floor.
He made her wild as he ate her pussy, making him cry out his name over and over.
And when Ant was finished with her, he stood, let his pants drop to the floor, and slid into her body.
He filled her completely and moved inside of her until she couldn’t tell where she ended, and he began.
He took his time with her, and when she couldn’t take much more, she shouted his name out again, losing herself and her heart completely to Ant.
He followed her over and pulled her against his body, as though he needed the same contact from her as she craved from him.
They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, and she never wanted him to let her go.
When he finally carried her down the hallway, she didn’t feel owned. She felt wanted.
Ant laid her across his bed and watched her like she mattered more than anything else — and that, more than the heat of passion they had just shared in his kitchen, undid her.
The world felt as though it had slowed down, and her heartbeat stopped racing.
She lay against his chest, tracing idle patterns along his ribs.
For the first time in a long time, sex didn’t feel cheap because Ant didn’t make her feel that way.
He allowed her to be Dr. Monroe, or just Ruby; never expecting her to be Scarlet.
He seemed to want her anyway he could have her, and that meant more to Ruby than she would ever admit.