Then everything clicks into place.
The bottle of whiskey I was holding drops to the floor with acrack. I don’t hear it shatter because all I can think about isher, her breathing, her heartbeat, her fuckingmouthon mine.
My hands shoot to Laurel’s waist, gripping so tightly I know I’ll leave bruises.Good. I want her marked by me. I want her to remember, every time she dresses, every time she showers, that I was here. That her bodybelongs tome.
Her kiss is fire and fury.
Mine is war, with one intent.
Conquer her. Ruin her for everyone but me.
The blonde next to me makes some kind of noise, indignant or offended. I couldn’t care less. Barely caught her name when she slinked up and started yammering in my ear.
I was too busy tracking Laurel. Every move she made. Every look. Every breath.
I was about to tell Red Dress to fuck off, but then I felt Laurel watching, burning a hole through me from across the room.
So I tested her. To see what she’d do. Would Laurel crack? Would she walk away? Was this thing between us only in my head? Or did she feel it too?
Laurel didn’t disappoint.
She marched across the room like a thunderstorm,lightning flashing in her eyes. Fury rolling off her in waves. A vengeful goddess, come to claim what’s hers.
And fuck me, it washot.
Made my cock instantly hard.
Now she’s in front of me, her mouth on mine, her fists clenched in my shirt like she’s ready to tear me apart and kiss me back together.
“Jealousy looks good on you, Tiger,” I murmur, dragging my lips down her jaw. “If I’d known that was all it took, I would’ve let some random girl grope me months ago.”
Her nails dig into my shoulder, sharp, painful. It only makes me harder.
“Don’t think I’m done being pissed at you,” she says, her voice breathless and wild. She keeps kissing me like she’s trying to bite down the rest of her rage. Like she wants to slap me as much as she wants to fuck me.
That’s fine.
She can do both.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” I murmur against her skin. My voice is low, wicked. “How about we go somewhere private, and you can punish me?”
She huffs, part laugh, part exasperation. “You’re an asshole,” she mutters against my mouth.
“Always,” I breathe, before tilting her chin and dragging her into another kiss, slow and filthy. My lips leave her mouth to graze her jaw. I whisper in her ear, “But I’m your asshole.”
We kiss like it’s a fight we both want to lose. I know we’re putting on quite the show. Everyone is staring.
Fine by me. Let them look. Let them all see. She choseme.
My teeth graze her bottom lip. “I like you like this,” I murmur. “Feisty. Possessive.”
“I am not possessive,” she snaps, dragging my mouth back to hers. “And I’m definitely not jealous.”
Our tongues meet and clash, hot, angry, charged with electricity.
“Liar.”Without warning, I scoop her into my arms, one arm beneath her knees, the other cradling her back.
She gasps, soft, surprised, but doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t fight me, which is good because I have a desperate urge to get her away from here. I don’t want anyone to see what I’m about to do to her. They don’t deserve that.
