Lunging forward, I wrap my arm around her middle and tug her into my body. I feel her stumble, but I hold her tight against me. Relief washes over me the moment she falls into my arms, but it’s quickly replaced by a spark of anger as the man who thought hewas taking her home turns to see why she suddenly stopped. He meets my eye.
I let him see the Beast smile.
Yeah, you’re looking at the reason, motherfucker.
Chapter 15
Lennon
Sloane and I are dancing facing each other, shouting the words to the song and grinning like fools, having the time of our lives. The two guys who brought us out on the dance floor have cemented themselves to our backsides. It’s doing nothing for me, so I’m just ignoring Preston, enjoying my heavy buzz, and getting lost in the music.
Sloane eventually turns around and starts dancing with the guy behind her. I sigh and follow her lead, because that’s what I’m here for, right? Moving on. Giving someone else a chance. Even if it’s just for one night of fun. A girl’s gotta start somewhere.
Preston grins down at me, slides his hands onto my hips, and pulls me against him. Discomfort nudges me from somewhere in the back of my sloshed brain. I shove it aside because I know the discomfort has nothing to do with this man, and everything to do with the fact he’s not Sandro. But that’s just tough. A hurdle I have to get over.
Eventually, Preston grabs my hand and starts leading me through the crowd. I can see Sloane and her guy moving in frontof us, so I guess we’re following them. Maybe they want another drink.
We emerge on the other side of the dance floor, near the door, when I suddenly feel an arm wrap around my middle and tug me back into a hard body. I squeak as I stumble, but the muscular forearm is holding me upright and oh my God. I would recognize his scent and possessive energy anywhere.
Sandro.
My eyes flick from Preston, who is glaring at Sandro with narrowed eyes, to Sloane, who has turned to find me and is watching us with wide, alarmed eyes.
It only takes her a second to take in the scene, and then she’s marching over to us, staring up at Sandro with a protective glare. “Let her go. You don’t own her!” She shouts over the music.
His other hand slides up beneath my hair and around my neck. His hold is gentle but possessive. His thumb caresses my throat, where my pulse is jumping.
My whole body lights up. Involuntarily, I lean back against him. I can’t stop myself. It must be the alcohol.
I feel his words vibrating in his chest as he says, “No, but I do own this club.”
I tilt my chin to look up at his face. His eyes are blazing, his mouth curved in a deadly smile. Any doubt flees my mind. This is definitely not the boy I left. This is a man, a killer, one who hasembraced the darkness he was born into. He’s not talking to Sloane but to Preston as he growls, “Let go of her hand. Now.”
Preston drops my hand and steps back.
Smart man.
Preston glances once at me and then lifts his palms. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know,” he shouts. He backs away, stumbles into his friend, and they both turn and disappear into the crowd.
Sloane has her hand perched on her hip, glaring at Sandro. I haven’t seen her so angry since she found out her boyfriend of two years was cheating on her.
I’m trying to process the fact that Sandro is here. That he owns this club.
The Eclipse.
That has to be a coincidence, right?Not a reference to the night we shared our first kiss.
No, don’t be ridiculous, Lennon. He’s probably had so many women go through his life, he’s not going to remember a kiss fourteen years ago and mark the occasion by naming his club after it.
Yet, here he is. Claiming me like some kind of psychotic caveman.
Before I can process the anger that’s starting to bubble up, he laces his fingers with mine and pulls me through the crowd toward the back of the club.
Sloane grabs my other hand tight.
I glance back to see the worry and determination etched on her face as she’s dragged along with me. Then I face forward, concentrating on Sandro's wide shoulders beneath the white dress shirt so I don’t trip. Between the heels, the alcohol and the shock of Sandro’s sudden presence I’m not at my steadiest.
We reach a black metal door with two burly men standing guard. They step aside and nod when Sandro approaches.
