“Wanna dance?” Marcus holds his hand out to the girl, and to my surprise, she takes it. The dress—mostly open in the back except for a couple thin crisscrossing spaghetti straps—is so short, if she bends down, she will expose everything.
She better not fucking bend over.
I crack my neck and down my bourbon. It’s taking every bit of restraint I have not to cut in and break Marcus’ fingers as his hand lightly snakes over the exposed skin to her lower back, stopping just above her backside and pulling her closer while “Everybody Here Wants You” by Jeff Buckley plays over the sound system.
Damn right they fucking want her. Even Ethan is gawking. I told them they couldn’t touch her, but that’s not stopping him or Vade from eye-fucking her. I’m going to gouge out their eyeballs if they don’t look away soon.
“Do you want to dance?” Sasha asks me while rubbing her hand up my leg.
“No,” I snap and remove her hand. I’m going to sit here and make sure Marcus keeps his damn hands mostly to himself. It’s annoying that this is getting under my skin so much.
“Fine,” she huffs and walks off towards the bar, Vade trailing after her. Probably going to get the fingerpaint.
The girl doesn’t belong to me, nor do I want her to, but I’ll never forget the night she looked in my eyes and jumped off that bridge. Every single bit of fear and desperation is eternally burned into my memory.
There was something there when I looked back into hers that I knew I had to save. No matter how much I told myself I should just let her die, even when she was in the hospital, I couldn’t let her go.
I risked my life to save her and can’t just let that slide. It’s natural to be protective of her after surviving something so reckless and traumatic for both of us. Sure, she’s an attractive girl, any man can see that.
Since I haven’t been laid in months, seeing her with that much flesh exposed is sending my sexual frustration into overdrive. I need a fucking cigarette. Joke’s on me for using sex as a coping tool for quitting cigarettes, because now I’m not getting either. I refuse to drink my frustrations away after the office incident.
How long is this fucking song? She’s totally unaware of her surroundings. Awareness of your surroundings is self-defense 101. Danger can be avoided simply by being in tune with what’s going on, reading the room, and acting accordingly. He should be teaching her that, not trying to charm her with his smile.
“Worship Me” by Ari Abdul plays next and Marcus still doesn’t let her go. Fuck it, I’m cutting in.
Chapter 22
Maya
This is the first time since my seventh-grade dance that I’ve slow danced with a guy. I must say, the dance partner has drastically improved. One hand rests on Marcus thick, muscular, tattooed arm, my other hand is gently nestled in his as we sway side to side.
“So how long have you been in Mississippi?”
“Oh not long, just a couple days.” I’m not sure what Nick has told him, so I will keep my responses simple. It’s not a total lie, I did just get back in the state.
“I can tell you’re not from around here, I would’ve recognized a pretty face like yours.” His hand lightly drifts down my back.
“Thank you.” Heat flushes through me at his touch and compliment, and I can’t help but smile.
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class?” He leans into me, his chest brushing against mine.
“I haven’t” His aftershave smells so good. A small amount of hair peeks over the top of his partially unbuttoned shirt, making me want to run my fingers through it.
“I’ll be glad to teach you everything I can. This is going to be a dangerous mission, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” His grip tightens and he pulls me in closer.
I haven’t had enough time to process the gravity of everything, and the slight buzz from the alcohol is keeping me calm. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but I could get used to the euphoric feeling I have right now.
It’s like a fever dream going from the slums of Whiskey Rivers to dancing in an elite club with a high-profile man. Let’s not even mention my attire. Emma made shopping and doing my hair and makeup so much fun, the reality of actually having to wear it in public didn’t sink in until Ethan knocked on the door and told me it was time to go.
I begged and pleaded for him to let me just wear a casual sundress, but he refused and locked me out of my room like the brat he is.
When we walked in and everyone was staring at me, I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out. Ethan leaned in and told me to smile like the voices in my head just cracked a joke. It caught me so off guard, I was able relax.
I can’t bring myself to look at Nick and the bombshell at his side. What little glances I’ve gotten of him, his stares have been so unnervingly intense. I know he’s noticed. I could literally feel the tension coming from him.
I’ll just have to deal with him later. I’m already on edge enough without him adding fuel to the fire.
“Does your boyfriend know where you are?” His blue eyes look deep into mine. As much as I want to, I do as I was taught and don’t look away.
