Chapter 25 #2
I could smell her perfume, and it crawled under my skin until I was dizzy with it.
My eyes dropped again. To the dip of her neckline. The shimmer of skin. The way her pulse jumped at her throat.
I wanted to mark every inch of it.
“Did you dress like that for him?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Her spine straightened, challenge flaring in her posture. “I dressed to feel good about myself,” she snapped. “Got any more comments that need to portal back into the 1900s where they belong?”
I almost laughed, but it came out more like a groan. Because fuck, she was gorgeous when she was mad. The kind of gorgeous that made my blood thrum and my thoughts scatter. Her lips were parted, cheeks flushed, eyes shining like she knew exactly how dangerous she looked.
Your self-control is fraying fast here, Colt.
Ignoring my inner scold, my hand found her hip, and I pressed my fingers through the thin fabric until she gasped. The sound was a live wire, and it put me on fire.
“Wanna explain to me what you’re doing here with him?” The words came out low and rough, my stare fixed on her mouth because everything about it looked like it wanted to be claimed.
She tilted her head, her lips close enough I could almost taste the Scotch on her breath. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for my emergency root canal. Thought I’d see if Levi had a drill handy.”
A hot, white anger roared up my throat. “I don’t like his name on your lips. And just so you know, touch him even once, and he'll be the one needing that root canal.” The threat was meant to curl around her spine. “If he’s lucky.”
Her expression flashed, amused and dangerous in return. The sight of her looking at me like that made the place tilt, and every rational thought fled.
She leaned the faintest fraction into me, hips nudging my already hard cock like a dare. “Oh, mister Colt,” she purred, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
I closed the last inch of space between us in a heartbeat and grabbed her throat with my other hand, my thumb pressing hard where her pulse hammered. I wanted to let her flail. I wanted to let her spit and fight. I wanted all of it, because the more she pushed, the more she bared herself.
“Let me make myself clear,” I said, the flatness of my tone cutting through the music and the chatter. “You might see this as a joke, but you’re holding that man’s life in your hands. Think very carefully about your next step, Nightcrawler.”
Everything about her screamed defiance: the tilt of her chin, the flicker of her pulse, the tremor she tried to bury beneath her little smirk. And gods, that tremor wrecked me. Because it wasn’t fear, it was awareness. Of me. Of us.
The hand on her hip slid up her spine, the edge of my thumb tracing the curve of her waist. She shivered, and the sound of her breath caught in my ear.
Her scent wrapped around me—pear, and lily—and the thought of her walking away from this, from me, unmarked, untouched, made my chest tighten like a vise.
“What would you do?” she murmured, fucking taunting me. “If I went over there? If I kissed him in front of you?”
For a heartbeat, I let the silence stretch between us. And then I gave her nothing but truth. “I’d cut off his head,” I said quietly, each word almost reverent. “So his lips would fall to the floor before they ever touched yours.”
Her eyes went wide, and my grip on her throat tightened, dragging her that last inch closer until the hem of her dress brushed against my other hand.
“Then,” I murmured, my voice turning to smoke and steel, “I’d take you to the back, lift that ridiculous bit of fabric you call a dress, and spank your bare ass until it glowed.”
She sucked in a breath, the sound small but electric, and I watched as her tongue wetted her lips. Every defense she had slipped, one heartbeat at a time.
My mouth was so close to her ear my words became heat against her skin. “And then,” I growled, “I’d fuck you so hard you’d never look at another man again.”
Her pulse jumped under my touch. I tilted her face up until her eyes met mine—those stormy, infuriating eyes—and felt her tremble again.
“Fuck,” I whispered, because the sight of her like that—flushed, shaking, still trying to hold on—was too much. “You like that idea. You want me to kill him for you, then drive my cock inside of you while he bleeds out, don’t you?”
Her lips parted, a shaky breath caught somewhere between a laugh and a moan. She was trying to hold on to that razor-edged resistance of hers, but she failed.
Want wrapped in bravado.
And all I could think was how close I was to losing any sort of control I’d ever had.
“You want to play, little spider?” The words were a clear warning. “Wanna drive me straight to insanity?”
I tilted my chin toward Levi, who was still lingering like a fool. “Go on,” I said, eyes never leaving hers. “Try me. Walk over there and see what happens next.”
I let my thumb trace across the underside of her lip, dragging once, slow enough that it felt like a sin. Testing. Tasting. Claiming.
Her tongue peeked out again, brushing against the tip of my finger.
My control shattered, blood roaring in my ears, and I would’ve kissed her right then if the universe hadn’t decided to intervene.
“You guys ready to go downstairs? The afterparty’s all set up!”
Levi’s annoying voice shattered the moment like glass.
Emma jerked back first, breathless, eyes wide, skin still flushed. My hand dropped from her throat, fingers curling into a useless fist at my side.
“I’ll, uh…” She smoothed her dress, not looking at me. “I’ll meet you guys there. I just need to…get a breather.”
Before I could say a damn thing, she turned and slipped past Levi, heels clicking against the floor.
By the time I stepped into the hallway, she was already gone, bolting through the doors and out into the night like I was the one thing she could never survive.