“So, you’re good with your hands?” he asks, taking another swig of his beer.
I rest my hand on his thigh, sliding it down to his knee and back up again. “I can be.”
He shifts back in his seat, his eyes following my hand as it rubs his leg before I take it away and pick up my shot glass. Everything inside me screams to leave, and I feel like I’m losing my nerve.
A waitress stops at our table, picking up his empty glass on her way by. Brent’s eyes linger on her exposed cleavage before turning his attention to her ass, then back to me.
Fucking pig.
I toss the liquid courage, tasting like grandma’s homemade apple pie, down my throat and wipe my wet lips. “Want to get out of here?” I blurt.
The tension between us rises, and my stomach turns rigid as he leans toward me and whispers, “Where do you want to go?”
A smile curls on my lips. “Follow me.” I slide from the booth, grab my phone and clutch and strut toward the exit at the back of the bar.
I shove the door open, and a chilly breeze tosses my hair across my cheek. I swipe it away, before looking left and right, quickly realizing I’m in the alley beside the parking lot. The door behind me closes with a bang, making me jump.
After several seconds, the door swings wide open, and Brent emerges, carrying a black hooded jacket. “Sorry, I didn’t want to leave this behind,” he says, holding it up between us. He shakes it out and places it around my shoulders, easing the goosebumps on my arms.
Fuck, maybe he’s not an asshole after all. I can’t do this.
His hand touches the side of my face before he curls a wayward lock of my hair around my ear, sending chills down the back of my neck. I shrug, shying away from his intimate touchas his fingers graze over my ear and wrap around the back of my head. He steps closer, lifts his chin higher so his lips meet mine, and plants a soft kiss on them before plunging his tongue into my mouth, swirling it around my palate rapidly, taking the intimate moment from 0-60 in the blink of an eye.
I pull away and glance at the alley around us, checking for cameras or other people. There’s no one. We are alone in a dark alley that smells like week-old garbage and mold.
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid someone will see us?” He steps away from me, finds a piece of splintered wood from an old pallet and wedges it beneath the bar door, securing it closed. “There. Now, come here.” He crooks his finger at me, his eyes darkening a bit.
The way he’s looking at me, like a lion seconds away from pouncing on its prey, makes my heart pound. “This was a mistake.” I turn away from him, my insides shaking violently. “I’m not ready.” I walk swiftly away from him, my heels echoing down the alley.
“Ready for what?” He jogs to catch up to me, grabs me by the bicep, and spins me around to face him. “What are you, a virgin?”
His eyes scan mine, waiting for me to answer.
I came here because I have a job to do, but I feel like he might not be the right mark.
“To let him have your soul,” I say without thinking.
Holy fuck, Tessa, what is wrong with you? Don’t tell him the truth.
His face twists, and without warning, he grabs me by the shoulders and slams my back into the brick wall, my head striking it hard, knocking my clutch from my grasp. “Who? Who fucking sent you, some rival gang or something?”
Stars dance before my eyes, and my knees buckle slightly, but I don’t fall.
He lifts me higher on the wall and shakes me hard. “Fucking answer me.” His spit sprays across my face as he seethes outwardly. “Who the fuck are you?” His hand wraps around my throat. “Fucking answer me.”
His grip on my neck tightens, making it impossible to speak and darkening my vision. I try not to panic, but I can’t get to my clutch to light a match or use my lighter. Even if I could, I couldn’t say Mastyx’s name.
“Answer me,” he hollers in my face, his hot breath heating my cheek.
I slap his arms before forcing my arms between his and grab his head, pulling it hard toward the ground. I raise my knee, striking him hard in the face before ducking and twisting away from him, breaking his hold on me.
“Mastyx,” I call out before picking up the clutch that I dropped off the ground and turning to run.
My head flies back, his fingers twisting tightly around my hair, pulling me back toward him. “What did you say?” He pulls my body back against his, his one arm tightening around my waist, the other rocking my head back and forth violently, making me dizzy. “You’d better tell me what the fuck this is about.”
Jesus. He’s going to fucking kill me. I misjudged him.
My body flies forward, the ground stinging my knees as I land on it, knocking my clutch out of my hand a second time, spilling its contents.
