Page 121 of Making Choices

Electrified.

A little horny.

Yet, thanks to Nadia’s meddling, it’s clear that Cherub’s acceptance of my closeness is more than that.

“Hear you dropped some MDMA,” I murmur.

“Are you gonna lecture me about it?”

The rebellious look in my duchess’ eyes hardens my dick to concrete. She’s ready to defend herself from any judgement I toss her way, and her stubbornness strips me of my misguided need to protect her from accidentally making a mistake. My earlier comment to Venom about Cherub being a grown woman who’s free to make her own choices was designed to irritate him. But now, I can see that I was right. My regal duchess, the strongest woman I know outside of my mumma, is crying out for the chance to stand on her own two feet for the first time in her life.

All I have to do is work out how I can help her fulfil that goal without leaving me behind.

Keen to see how far I can push her resolve, I shake my head, then grip her hips tight. Turning Cherub so her back is to me, I step in close. My erection is trapped between us when I flatten my hand on her belly to pull her into me. As I curl my other arm around her waist, it slips upward until her heavy tits are resting on my forearm. The blood in my brain drains down to my cock, and moving behind her, I allow the music to take control. When I realise that Cherub’s definitely noticed my hard-on, and she’s not going to mount a protest, the line her twin drew in the sand back at the cemetery is blown to smithereens.

I angle my mouth to her ear. “Next time you wanna get high, I expect you to come to me. I ever find out that you’ve accepted drugs from anyone else, even if it’s Hunter’s stuff, I’ll spank your arse ’til it’s scarlet. You won’t be able to sit for a week by the time I’m done with ya.”

Her stumble in the wake of my comment tells me everything I need to know. Brainwashed as she’s been by Venom’s relentless claim over her heart and soul, Lilianna Mayberry doesn’t have a clue that she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. I already know that she loves me, but in this moment, I’d go as far as to say that she’s more than a little in love with me.

Now, my mission, should I choose to accept it, is to make her see the truth when she isn’t high. It’s a task I’ll take on without a second thought. The idea of having Cherub as mine is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Possessing her heart, her soul, her body calls to me on every plane of consciousness.

I want the woman in my arms more than I want to save the Shamrocks from Brutus.

With that fact settled, I dance with my duchess. Song after song. Connected on the most elemental level, we allow our hands to roam as we grind to the beat. When I run my fingertips along her ribs, Cherub’s hand cups the nape of my neck and she arches her back to open herself up to my exploration. The way I’m curled around her and the heels she’s wearing puts her arse at cock height. The soft globes rub my dick, making me harder than I’ve ever been.

When the DJ goes on break, Cherub turns to face me. In the dark, flickering light of the nightclub, she licks her lips, then tilts her head like she’s ready for a kiss.

I swallow hard as uncertainty gallops through me.

Is this a line I should cross?

Yes.

Is it a line I should cross while she’s high and unlikely to remember tomorrow?

Probably not.

“Warned you, motherfucker!” Sander shouts in my ear. After stealing my breath with a cheap kidney shot, he takes hold of the nape of my cut and drags me backward. Arms flailing, my sudden absence sends Cherub spinning. Groaning through the agony flaring in my back, I let go of Sander’s sister before I pull her off balance, and unwillingly stumble after him. “Fuckin’ told you to give her time.”

Cherub frowns as she whirls around to see why I’ve suddenly let go of her. Before she can say anything, Isaiah swoops in. He distracts her, pointing at someone over her shoulder. When Cherub turns around, I follow her gaze to the ghostly looking blond man standing at the edge of the dance floor.

Fucking Toker.

“Let go of me, you little shit.” Through a narrow-eyed gaze, I watch Nadia and Isaiah drag Cherub over to her cousin. As soon as Toker flips me the bird, I realise that this wasn’t a coincidence. Sander must’ve called him in as backup. Shaking free, I whirl on the meddling prick. “I should cave your fuckin’ face in.”

Eyes wide, panic dawning, Sander glances around for assistance. Apart from Cub, who’s waiting off to the side with his arms folded over his chest and worry in his gaze, he comes up empty. With both hands, I shove Cherub’s twin in the chest. He goes flying backward, landing on his arse then turtling in on himself when I kick him in the guts. Taking hold of his shirt, I force him to uncurl.

Arm pulled back, fist clenched, I freeze.

“Fuck.” The curse word falls from my lips like a bomb. Sander stares up at me. In his gaze, I discover a familiar sight. It’s more commonly associated with Venom when he loses his shit. Tonight, though, it’s aimed at me. “Fuck me… I’m actin’ like him.”

A heartbeat later, I realise the entire club has stopped to watch me behave like a barbarian. The music has been cut and the lights are on. Letting go of Sander, I roll my shoulders, then crack my neck from side to side to ease the tension that’s turned my spine to steel. I drag in a steadying breath.

Cherub’s twin eases back to his feet.

I pin him with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry—”

“This mightn’t be the best place for this,” Cub cuts me off. Without meeting my eyes, he lifts his chin to indicate the dozens of phones recording a member of the Black Shamrocks MC facing off with a local basketball star in the middle of a nightclub. “Should probably take this somewhere private.”

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