Page 35 of Revel
That’s fucking laughable. I shake my head, reaching for my flask. “Face it, Hardin. I’m dangerous to myself.”
He doesn’t argue because we both know the validity in it.
Behind me, I hear her laugh. I turn, but I don’t make eye contact. My eyes drift to her bodyguards. “You’re not needed.”
The big one, well, they’re both big but the one on the right more so. Strangely enough, he reminds me of Vin Diesel. I want to ask him if he knows Michelle Rodriquez because I’d really like to be introduced to her, but something tells me this guy wouldn’t find the humor in it.
He looks down at me like I’m some little fucking punk who doesn’t deserve to be in the same room as her. It’s arguable to an extent, but not something I’m going to let this guy get away with. “We go where Ms. Ash goes. No exceptions.”
“Until now,” I add, smirking.
Red shakes her head, waving them off when they grumble to her about my attitude. I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t leave her with me either. “B.” She pauses, her hand on his puffed-out chest. “It’s fine.”
He stares down at her with concern. “I don’t like this.”
I snort, lighting up a cigarette. “I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”
There’s not a chance in hell he believes me, but he takes a step back. “You know how to get hold of me.”
It’s then I make eye contact with Red, and the open car door awaiting her. I give a tip of my head, the only invite I’m going to give her. If she gets in, her life will never be the same again.
Take a look at Red. She’s wearing a tight black dress that’s midthigh. It’s low enough in the front that her goddamn tits are hanging out, but still modest enough that it’s not trashy like you’d think it might be. Now look closer for me. Past the bright green that refuse to meet the cold blue waiting on her. Do you notice the way she’s reluctant? The pause, the “I don’t know what to do”?
She looks to her assistant for an answer. She knows what this means. She knows what I’m capable of and what being around me could possibly do to her image as the “Good girl.” Nothing good comes from me.
I can tell by the hesitation on her face, she’s unsure about leaving without security, and two, leaving with me. I want to hook my arm around her waist, press her entire body against mine and assure her, trouble finds you anyway. I want to hide my face in her neck and breathe in princess. I don’t do any of that.
Cruz, who’d gotten in the limo already, pops his head out the sunroof, a bottle of champagne in one hand and his cell phone in the other. “You coming too, Tinkerbella?”
Bella grins, even though she doesn’t completely know what she’s agreeing to. “I hope to.”
I think I like her assistant.
Bella steps forward, her and Red sweeping past me into the limo. Princess bends to get in the car when some jackass behind us mumbles, “Nice ass.”
I whip around, shoving him away from her before he can grab her ass, let alone say another word in her direction. But I don’t look him in the eye. I find you need to reserve eye contact for the words you want the other person to remember. Stepping closer, I ask, “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” he says, smiling, his eyes on Red’s body.
Take a picture, cock sucker, because it’s the last look you’re getting.
Now I make eye contact, my face inches from his. “I’m just checking that I heard you correctly.” I shove him into Patrick, my bodyguard standing next to me. “Why the fuck would you say that?”
Red grabs my arm over my sweatshirt but the warmth, it’s there and intense. Her hand fists, twisting the fabric as she pulls me toward her. “It’s fine. Let it go.”
I don’t want to let it go. I want this sorry motherfucker to kneel before her and beg for her forgiveness.
“Fuckyou,” is the kid’s response. In front of a crowd, he’s playing tough guy against me, knowing I won’t do anything. I touch this kid and I’m going to jail, or a lawsuit will be thrown my way. I know the drill pretty fucking well by now.
I have a choice, as I usually do, but I know how the one I want ends. So I swallow my pride and nod to Patrick to take care of it.
I don’t say anything to Red when we’re in the limo. Her friend talks enough for everyone, but I’m aware of her proximity and her eyes on me. She watches my every move but keeps her distance.
Sitting inches from me, our shoulders touch when I lean forward to retrieve a bottle of vodka on the bar next to her. I have a flask, but I need an excuse to get closer to her.
Her breath catches, her thighs tensing. She shifts her position, uncrossing her legs, and the heat of her arousal hits me about the same time I offer the bottle her way. Still, even in a car full of people, we don’t say anything.
Our fingers brush when she reaches for the bottle. A zip of electricity hits me.
