I shove him off the bar, and he crumples, wheezing on the floor like the pathetic sack of shit he is. His friends are nowhere to be seen and the guys are flanking me, arms crossed, faces serious but confident.
Locking eyes with the piece of shit glaring up at me, I crouch—and for once, I don’t even feel the burn in my thigh. All I feel is satisfaction and lingering rage.
“Get the fuck out,” I growl, fists clenched. “If I ever see you again, I’ll finish what I started. Got me?”
He scoffs, shoving himself off the floor. I cock a brow and step into his space and his face crumples a second before he tucks tail and scurries away.
Coward.
Only when the fuckface and his friends are gone, the door swinging behind them, do I finally turn to face her.
Georgia’s frozen, her chest rising and falling fast, hands curled into trembling fists on her lap. Her eyes lock with mine—bright, wide and glassy.
The sight of her so scared sucks all the air from my lungs.
I take a step toward her and she flinches like she’s scared of me. My knees damn near buckle.
“Darlin’?” I rasp, gaze trailing across her face, her body, before zeroing in on her throat. It’s too fuckin’ dark in here, and I’m too far to see any damage. “Georgia?”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t look away, but I see the way her bottom lip quivers—and the instant it does, I’m moving again.
Don’t stop till I’m right in front of her, surrounding her, not an inch of space between us, but I don’t touch her, not yet. Her neck cranes back, eyes tracking my every move. Her throat bobs and she tucks that shaking lip between her teeth, biting down hard.
“You scared of me, freckles?” I murmur, muscles vibrating with the need to hold her.
Her mouth opens, and closes, brows tight, eyes blinking furiously, before she finally breathes, “Never.”
Relief has my shoulders slumping, but I can’t get a read on her. My hands reach out, hesitating, hovering between us. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”
“You…” She swallows thickly, shaking her head. “You defended me.”
“Of course I did,” I say, scoffing. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” My gaze snaps to the door, jaw ticking, pissed off all over again. “He touched you. Put his hand around your throat like he had any fuckin’ right. I should kill—”
A soft, delicate hand grips my jaw, forcing my face back to hers. A shudder runs through me at the feeling.
“You called me yours,” she breathes, fingers stroking through my beard absently. “You called me your woman, Kade. Called me yours. Defended me like you meant it, too.”
“I did mean it…” I trail off, heart racing. Hadn’t even realized what I’d been saying. Just knew that I could have easily killed him for what he did.
“Why?” she whispers, trailing her hand across my face, my cheek, smoothing her thumb beneath my eye with so much reverence, I damn near forget how to breathe. “Why would you do that for me?”
Goddamn, my sweet, soft girl. She has no idea how much she means to me, does she?
And why the fuck would she?
Last night, we opened up to each other, laid our demons down between us in the darkness, but when it came time for me to put my cards on the table, tell her the crazy shit that’s been going through my head for weeks now, the damn near insatiable way I want her,need her… I froze up.
She was asking—begging me, to put a name on it, and I didn’t, couldn’t, too scared to fuck this up the way I fuck up everything else in my life.
All I knew in that moment was that I wanted Georgia Walker more than I wanted anything in my life other than Aurora, but that's a whole different kind of want.
I want Aurora to be safe and loved, protected and cherished. Want her to learn and grow with me.
With Georgia… I just wanther.
In every way. In all ways.
Why the hell couldn’t I have just told herthat?
