I don’t like the way he’s parked himself against the wall beside the bathroom door. And sure enough, when she tries to pass him, he grabs her arm. My whole body goes rigid.
She whirls around and jerks her arm from his grip. Her back is to me now, but her tense posture and clenched fists tell me all I need to know about how she’s feeling, and that’s threatened.
I step out into the hallway, pull the blade from my pocket and begin to clean my nails with it as I stare down the eejit who has Sam cornered.
His gaze suddenly snaps up to meet mine.
I shake my head slowly in warning.
He tenses, lifts his hands and takes a step back.
As soon as I see another woman appear from the bathroom, I slip back into the shadows.
I’m glad I did, because as Sam and the woman pass me, I can see how Sam’s shoulders are back and her chin is up. She thinks he backed off because of whatever she said to him.
I chuckle, amused, then head back to the bar.
I’m nursing my third whiskey, surveying the room when I notice a cluster of men talking and glancing at the girls. They’re probably harmless. Polos and khakis, perfectly gelled hair. But I don’t give them a chance to interrupt the girls’ evening. I stroll over and stand between Lennon and Sam, sipping my whiskey and staring at the group of businessmen.
The douchebag in the yellow Polo notices me first and elbows his friend. It only takes a few seconds for them all to be watching me with dumb, confused expressions. I obviously need to make it clearer.
With the hand I’m holding my glass in, I make a circle over the girls’ heads, then I shake my head and flip them off.
As they shuffle off, Lennon groans. “Killian, please don’t cause a scene.”
I grin down at her. “Me? Never.” Then for some bloody reason, I decide to pull up a chair and sit. “Just going to give it a few minutes to make sure they got the message,” I explain, mostly to myself, because what the fuck am I doing?
Lennon smirks at me, shakes her head.
Sloane says, “Anyway,” shooting me an irritated glance for breaching their girl space. Then she continues whatever conversation I’d interrupted. I get a whiff of Sam’s subtle, floral shampoo and my dick twitches, remembering her pressed against me, grinding her hips.
Sam clears her throat beside me. “Why did you talk to my apartment manager?”
I swing my head and meet her eyes. Instead of gratitude, her gold-flecked amber eyes are glittering with anger. Interesting.
Her skin is flushed from the alcohol or emotion, I don’t know which, but I can’t help picturing her beneath me, flushed for a different reason. “Why did I politely ask your manager to do his bloody job?”
She scoffs, probably at thepolitelypart, which would be fair.
“Because you’re my employee now, and I take care of my employees. A thank you is usually what I’d get.”
Her eyes narrow and blood rushes to my dick. Such a brat.
“I’m already in your debt, as you so kindly pointed out, so do me a favor… anddon’tdo me any more favors.”
That should piss me off, but damn if I don’t like it when the little vixen gets mouthy.
I lean over and brush my lips against her ear, satisfied when goosebumps break out on her arms. “Be careful, Vixen. I have plenty of ideas of how to keep that sassy mouth busy.” I pull back and let her see the seriousness in my eyes. Her pupils are blown now, and I watch her try to swallow. My lips twitch. She liked that. My dick agrees.
“Fuck off, Killian,” she whispers, her tone breathy, her pulse fluttering in her neck like a trapped bird.
My gaze lowers to her mouth and full bottom lip, which she’s now chewing on and fuck if I don’t want to bite it for her. I smile and swallow a moan.
Reluctantly, and with so much bleedin’ effort I should get an award, I stand and walk away from her. I have lost my goddamn mind.
Chapter 15
Samantha
