Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
WRATH
Not sure I should be standing outside her apartment on a Sunday afternoon, but here I fucking am, because I can’t wait until tomorrow to see her.
I wanted to come here yesterday, but I was caught up in working on the upcoming job and getting a couple of the guys on a goddamn catering crew for said job.
I start to knock on the door with my index knuckle, but a sound to the right causes me to pause. Turning my head, I look over to see Alex standing a few feet away. The door is open, and he’s staring daggers at me.
I mean, if looks could kill, I’d have died moments ago.
Shifting my body around, I face him and arch a brow as I wait for him to say whatever the fuck he’s got on his mind.
Clearly, he has something he wants to say to me.
I don’t ask him, though. He can say whatever it is he wants to say, but he’d better get it done with because I have shit to do.
“Whatever you’re doing, just don’t,” he states.
Jerking my head back slightly, I cross my arms over my chest as I stare at him. Pretty ballsy, if I might say so. I don’t ask him what he means. I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he’s telling me not to do. I’m also sure I don’t quite give a fuck.
So there’s that.
“Just stay away from Elodie. She doesn’t need your brand of bullshit, and you’re too fucking old for her anyway.”
I could argue with him, but he is absolutely not wrong. I am too fucking old for her. I’ve also got a brand of bullshit she probably doesn’t need. But I don’t really give a fuck what he thinks, because bullshit or not, she’s mine.
“Thanks for your input.”
“You don’t care,” he hisses. “You’re going to ruin her life, and you don’t give a fuck.”
I could explain myself to him. I could tell him that I can't stop thinking about her. That she’s somehow imprinted herself on not only my mind, but my heart, too.
That if I don’t taste her, I think I might actually fucking die.
But I don’t, partially because it’s not his place to know, but mainly because I would never admit that shit, not to him at least.
Turning away from him, I lift my hand and rap my knuckle against her door. I’m not going to dignify his shit with an answer. It’s not fucking his to know. It’s between me and Elodie. He growls, and then he speaks just as Elodie opens the door.
“You’re going to break her, and I’ll have to pick up the pieces. We’ll be lucky if we even survive whatever shitstorm you have coming our way. Other people might be scared of you because of the cut you wear, but I’m not. I have no loyalty to you or your club. I’ll ruin you all.”
Elodie’s eyes are wide, her lips are parted, and as much as I want to imagine slipping my cock past them, I’m too busy replaying Alex’s words in my head as I move past her and into her fuck-ass small apartment.
Alex’s words dissipate to places unknown because all I can do is look around this postage stamp she calls home. It’s clean and tidy. The furniture is obviously secondhand, but she’s made it her own.
“Your fuckin’ bed is in the living room, babe,” I announce.
She hums, moving around behind me and beside me until she’s standing directly in front of me. Tearing my gaze from the bed, I shift my attention down to meet hers. “Your bed is in the living room,” I repeat myself.
“It’s a studio.”
“This building is shit,” I point out.
She snorts. “It’s all I can afford. Are you here only to criticize my apartment? Because if that’s the case, you can just spin right around and walk away.”
Maybe her words should piss me off, because clearly, she’s being snippy and a smart-ass, but they don’t. I think she’s fucking adorable. My lips twitch into a smirk as I watch her, my gaze searching her own before I speak.
“I didn’t come here to criticize your apartment, as you put it. But I am observing it, and what I observe is that it’s clean, decorated, and comfortable, but it’s small and not in the best hood.”
She crosses her arms just below her tits, pushing them up and distracting me from the conversation we’re having. My smile doesn’t fade as I start to think about all the things I want to do with her tits, or to her tits, or maybe what I want to spread all over her tits.
“I’m not going to justify my apartment to you,” she states. “Or my living conditions. I started with absolutely nothing, working my ass off to build my company and put food in my mouth.”
Closing the distance between us, I lift my hand and cup her cheek, sliding my thumb across her bottom lip. My gaze travels the path before I flick my eyes to meet hers. She blinks a couple of times, and it’s then that I realize she’s trying to blink the tears away that have started to form.
“I’m not judging you, Haze,” I murmur. “I just want better for you. You deserve it.”
Dipping closer, I touch my mouth to hers, slipping my tongue inside her mouth and tangling it with her own.
She whimpers, and I reach for the hem of her shirt.
Gliding it up her body, I’m thankful that she lifts her arms so I can divest her of her top.
The move forces me to break the kiss, which I fucking hate.
Resting my forehead against hers, I let out a heavy exhale. Fuck. Elodie’s mine. I’m claiming her, even if she doesn’t know it yet, but I think this girl might just own me instead.