Page 99 of Reclaimed

“What happened?” I ask him.

“Drunk fell off his chair. That’s all, my Stella.” He says sweetly, addressing Isla instead of me. “You’re safe.”

Isla jabs a finger into his chest and unleashes a string of fire. “I’d feel a hell of a lot safer if Lucien spent his time on the floor watching the drunks instead of watching my ass!”

Manny nods, his brow furrowed at what I assume is an unusual outburst from her. “I’ll talk with him.”

If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d miss the fight she has on her composure. She might be putting up a strong front, but she’s rattled. Rightly so.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says.

Manny cocks his head. “Of course it matters.”

“I quit, Manny. I know it’s only three more shifts, but I can’t do it anymore.”

His gaze drops to our entwined hand at our sides. “I assume I can’t persuade you to change your mind.”

She raises her chin a fraction. “No, nothing you say can change my mind.”

“Then you can pick up your last check on Sunday.”

“Thank you.” Tension leaks from her body at his easy acceptance. Isla turns to resume our way to the exit.

“Oh, and Stella?” Manny calls.

“Yes?”

“If you decide to dance again, do give me a call. You are a crowd favorite.”

I don’t miss the way her hand caresses her stomach. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The radio in Manny’s hand crackles, and with a distracted wave, he turns the corner and disappears.

“Should we go?” I ask as we linger in the hall.

Isla tilts her chin, a smile playing on her lips. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Home.

I could get used to her saying that.

The alarm panelbeeps as I unlock the door. Holding it open, I sweep my arm out. “After you.”

Isla steps over the threshold, spinning to grab my forearm in both her small hands and drags me inside.

“What—” The duffel bag falls to the floor.

She pushes my back against the door, and fits her mouth to mine. I groan, my chest vibrating with the rumble beneath her palms. She drags the zipper of my jacket down and peels the material from my shoulders.

“Mm, baby.” My words are cut off as she attacks me again. “The panel,” I gasp, before retaking her mouth. We fight for the upper hand. I fit my palm flat against the small of her back and spin us against the other wall.

“Key it in,” she breathes before resuming the kiss. “Hurry.”

I nip her bottom lip, then move my attention to her neck. My teeth graze the sensitive skin between her ear and her shoulderas I watch myself key in the code. The alarm beeps three times to let me know it’s armed.

“Got it,” I growl, diving back into the heated kiss. I grip her pony with one hand, and with the other, I press our lower halves flush. My erection grinds against her stomach, hard and ready for whatever she has planned.

“Good,” she pants.

---