He places a kiss on my stomach, the fabric of my dress the only barrier between his mouth and my skin. Then another, and another, each one a slow ascent as he rises to his feet, towering over me.
“Now come on,” I say, smoothing my hands down the dress. “I need my biker to drive us to the club.”
“That’s my label? Your biker?”
“Considering we’ve only been on one date, then yeah… that’s your label.”
“You’re heartless, baby. You know that? At least call me your boyfriend already. Even though that doesn’t feel like nearly enough for what we are.”
“You’re impatient and unrealistic, and you’ll get your title when I’m ready.”
The smirk barely leaves my lips before he lifts me off the ground.
“Phoenix!” I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He grabs my coat with one hand, still holding me with the other, and carries me all the way down the hall to the elevator. The doors slide open, and he walks us inside. My hand settles over his chest, right where his heart is hammering, and I wonder if he knows mine is racing just as hard.
When we reach the garage, the cool night air rushes in as the doors open. Only when we reach his bike does he let me slide down his body until my heels touch the ground. He doesn’t step back or give me space. He just reaches for the helmet and slides it over my head himself, his fingers brushing my jaw as he fastens the strap.
Phoenix’s hand stays on my thigh through most of the ride, only lifting when he absolutely has to, and even then, it comes straight back. I’m pretty sure we’re both so far gone at this point that even a few seconds without touching feels wrong.
It doesn’t take Phoenix long to get us there. We pull up outside the club, neon lights bathing the building in pink and blue, and he kills the engine, pocketing the keys. We head straight for The Dollhouse—Lianna’s bar. Well… technically, it’s her father’s bar, but she’s been running it for years. Her father, the charming piece of shit behind it all, owns a whole string of clubs scattered across the country, each run by a different kid from a different woman. Last Lianna heard, she had six half-siblings. Four half brothers and two half sisters. All of them share DNA with a man who breeds like a stray dog that never had its balls clipped.
After handing our coats to the clerk, we make our way through the club. Black walls, gold accents, and velvet booths are tucked into corners. Music pulses low through the speakers, and the lighting is dim enough to blur faces but bright enough to see who you’re talking to.
I’ve been here many times, and so has Phoenix—though I wasn’t aware of that little detail until recently. But right now, this is nice. We’re hand in hand, like a couple, and yeah, it’s fast, probably too fast. Part of me still can’t believe this is real, but I’ve never felt more whole than I do when he’s next to me.
Jordan’s working the bar tonight. When he looks up, he flashes a wide smile the second he sees me.
“Hey, beautiful. You looking for Lianna?”
Phoenix stiffens beside me, and I can practically hear him trying to work out how many teeth Jordan really needs to keep.Fuck, I love it.I shouldn’t. I know that, but there’s something twisted inside me, something I’m only just starting to understand about myself, that wants to be owned by him. Not in some romantic way, but in a raw, primal, slightly psychotic way that would probably make other people uncomfortable.
I want him to keep wanting me with this obsessive, all-consuming madness. I want to belong to him in a way that shouldn’t feel this good, and with anyone else, it would probably scare me. But with Phoenix, it feels like the safest place in the world.
“Is she in her office?”
“Yeah, she told me you’d be coming. Do you want a drink before you go back there?”
“Yes, please.”
“Your usual?”
“Yeah, and a bottle of water,” I add, then turn to look up at the six-foot-everything man I’m unhealthily obsessed with. “Unless you want something stronger?”
“Definitely not.”
Jordan disappears down the bar, and I tilt my head at Phoenix.
“You know how cliché it is to be jealous of every guy who talks to me?”
“I’m not going to change.”
“And I’m not going to stop talking to my friends because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“He called you beautiful with my arm around you.”
“Jordan calls everyone beautiful.”
