“Fuck,” he roars as his hips lose their rhythm. “Fuck. Fuck. Godda…Fuck.”
His body remains standing—and holding mine—by some miracle, but his chest heaves in unison with mine. Damp hair brushes my sweaty skin when his head drops to my shoulder. “Goddamn, Halfpint.” His voice is breathless and shaky as he lowers me to my wobbly legs. Kisses dot my shoulders before a tongue swipes across my soaked flesh. His green eyes swirl with questions, narrowing as he tilts his head. I think he’s about to run away when he threads his fingers through my hair and drops his mouth to mine.
My flavor brushes the seam of my lips, requesting entry. When I open for him, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, attacking as if it’s the first time. Arousal presses against my stomach, and I gasp. Looking down, finally getting a glimpse of his impressive package, I shake my head. “What the hell is that?”
He chuckles, planting his lips on my temple. “That’s all you, Halfpint.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but you kind of broke me, my guy. If I come one more time, I might actually die. Not to mention, you used that thing like a weapon. I’m going to need at least a week to recover.”
He laughs, booping my nose, walks across the room, grabs his pants, and pulls them on. Then he picks up his T-shirt. “I’ll give you until we get back to my apartment.” He tugs the fabric over my head, then turns for his zip-up hoodie and jacket before he grabs my fallen mask from the floor and helps me get it back on. “The minute we walk through that door, round two begins.”
“Round two? Are you crazy?”
“Told you already.” He slips on his boots, then extends his hand to me.
I take it and let him guide me toward the door. “You destroyed me. I’m closed for business.”
He opens the door, grinning. “We’ll see.”
“No, there will be no seeing,” I inform him. “I am—” I turn around and gulp loudly when I see a man standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes blazing, and I swallow the knot in my throat as I say, “Done.”
Jagger
All the work I just spent getting Poppy relaxed evaporates like rain on hot asphalt the second she sees the very pissed club owner outside our door. Tension pulls her spine upward like her puppet strings have been pulled. Panic dances in her hazel eyes as she glances over her shoulder with fearful accusation.
She thinks he’s here for her. He’s not, but her worry twists something in my chest. I squeeze her shoulders, shaking my head. She doesn’t see or doesn’t care.
So I lower my mouth to her ear. To let her know he’s not here for her or what we did, but rather what I did before we got back here. It’s no use though.
Before I can stop her, she rushes out the door. “Please don’t fire me,” she pleads as she grips his arms. “I swear it will never happen again. Please, I need this job.”
Dark warning narrows on where she grips him as his thick brows dip, but it’s my chest that’s rumbling, the fucking irrational jealousy returning because she’s touching him. I choke it down and take a breath. I’ve got to get that shit under control.
Before she can shove her foot further into her mouth, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her away from him. That’s how I rationalize it anyway.
My reward is her struggle to get away as her anxiety turns to anger. “What are you doing? Haven’t you done enough? I have a job to save.”
I swallow another growl. The girl might be a fighter, willing to do almost anything to survive, but damn does she crack under pressure. Not to mention, react instead of think. Come to think of it, it’s probably why she’s working here in the first place. Desperate people do desperate things.
“Calm down, you little psycho,” I mumble in her ear before more word vomit spews from her desperate lips while lifting my hand to tap her mask. “That’s not why he’s here.” When I look at him, the stony motherfucker raises a brow. “Or it wasn’t,” I mutter because, yep…no fooling him now.
She stops squirming, her fingers brushing the mask. Heat penetrates the thin cotton of my shirt she’s wearing, her body heating from embarrassment. “Shit,” she hisses. Long copper strands tickle my abs as she looks back and forth between us. Scarlet burst across her pale cheeks as she inhales deeply. “I-uh…” She jerks a thumb. “I’ll just go back to work now,” she says, voice high with embarrassment, eyes flicking to mine.
“Nah. You’re done for the night.” I don’t bother pretending I don’t know her since she’s given us away.
“I need the money,” she hisses, then drops her voice lower. “Why do you keep forgetting that?”
“Don’t worry. You just earned plenty.” I made sure of it because there’s no way she’s going back out there. She bristles, and I know if Dominic weren’t standing right there, she’d slap me again.
“He’s right. Get dressed. Your night is finished.” Dom’s command booms against the walls. He doesn’t leave any more room for argument than I did, but do you think that stops her?
Her sharp intake of air is all the warning I need of her impending argument. Pinching her chin between my fingers, I tug her face toward mine, dropping until our lips almost touch. I make a point to catch Dom’s attention. The ticking muscle in his jaw tells me he knows what I’m doing, too. “Get dressed. Meet me at my car.”
“Going home with you isn’t allowed, sir,” she huffs, still trying to deny we know each other despite knowing the gig is up.
If it weren’t so funny, I’d be pissed.
This time, I press my lips to her for a breath, smiling when she gasps and freezes, not expecting the display in front of Dominic. “You can drop the pretense, Halfpint. You already gave us away, remember?”
