My eyes spring open and I jump out of the arms that hold me, straight into a hard, unforgiving chest. His scent wraps around me, even in a crowded place like this, the air a pungent mix of stale alcohol and body odor, I can only smell him. His arm wraps possessively around me, hand splayed across my abdomen, and I don’t need to look to know he’s glaring daggers at my dance partner.
It takes me a moment to process.
Then I’m clawing his hand off me and spinning on him, “What are you doing?”
But he doesn’t look at me. His face is murderous and it’s the first glimpse I’m seeing of that other side of him, the brutal, deadly side, the one that kills for aliving. There’s not a hint of the earlier playful and flirtatious Bast, this is a man that will flay a man alive.
“Sebastian!” I yell.
But still, he glares.
“Sorry man, didn’t know she was taken,” The guy rushes out and I don’t even need to look to know he’s running away.
“What the fuck!?” I seethe.
He continues to look at the space the man just vacated, watching and waiting, it doesn’t even look like he is fucking breathing.
I slam a fist onto his chest. “Sebastian!”
It takes three seconds before his eyes drop to me. He’s over a foot taller than I am and the heels on my feet only give me a couple of extra inches but it doesn’t stop my glare at him. Everything in him softens, from his eyes, his brows, his shoulders, they all loosen and the man I know returns.
“Hey, Red,” He whispers but he may as well have shouted it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl at him, not even the use of his nickname for me can take away the edge.
“He was touching you.”
“Yes,” I snap, “And? He had my permission.”
His head snaps back, “Why?”
“Because I wanted him to,” I throw my hands up, “Is that a problem?”
“Yes,” He answers simply.
My nostrils flare, “So what? You don’t want me but no one else can have me either?”
His face twists into an emotion I can’t read, “Red,” he says, “It’s not like that.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” I hiss, “Let me go and get out of my way, Sebastian because I am not going to sit pretty at your side and be nothing.”
“What happened?” He stammers.
Nope. Not doing this.
I push passed him and force myself through the crowd, a little less gentle than I did before. I don’t bother with apologies as I shove my way through, heels stomping up the short set of stairs to the VIP area despite the ache in my feet. I grab my purse from the booth, not saying a word to my friends at the table.
“Willow!?” Olivia scrambles up from the booth, chasing after me as I head for the exit on this level that will take me out onto the street at the side of the club.
“I want to go home,” My voice cracks.
Her deep brown eyes widen, “What happened?” She asks, pulling me into a hug.
It’s too much and not enough. I shake my head, refusing to cry. Why the fuck would I cry anyway? It’snothing.
“I want to go home.”
Olivia nods, “Okay, let’s get you home.”
