Page 4 of Stalked By Axel

“Then get out of the way so I can go in and get her,” I make a show of pulling my phone out of my pocket and waving it at him. “Or should I have my boss call yours to settle this?”

“Fuck, man. Yeah, whatever, just get her out of her. And Scarlet too. Tell her I don’t give a fuck who her daddy is; pulling this shit ain’t cool.”

He moves his bulky frame to the side, and I slide past him into the club, not wasting a second trying to decipher what he was talking about in regard to Scarlet and her dad. I don’t know anything about the girl, aside from the fact that she’s a friend of Brooke’s from school. Anyway, she isn’t my problem. I’ll make sure she gets home safely, but that’s for Brooke’s sake, not hers.

I fight a wince at the thumping music when I walk in. I must be growing old if the loud club noise irritates me. Or maybe the DJ just has shitty taste in music. Whatever the case, it seems the people grinding on the dance floor don’t mind. My nerves are on edge as I scan the open space until I finally locate her at the bar, holding a drink in her hand and listening to something her friend is saying.

For a solid minute, I stand under the headache-inducing strobe lights and just take her in.

Brooke is breathtaking. Someone like me has no right to someone as beautiful and as precious as her, but that doesn’t stop me from watching her—and wanting her. Every part of me begs to march up to the girl and stake my claim, kiss her in front of all these strangers so they know that she belongs to me.

Control yourself!

My cock aches behind my zipper and my breath comes in short pants as I watch her. Fuck, it would be so easy to walk up to her and crowd her from the back, press my raging cock against that juicy ass. I’d whisper into her ear all the dirty things I wantto do to her, feel her breath catch and her body melt against mine. The lighting in the club would allow me to slid my hands under that dress and finger her pussy past her panties without anyone knowing. I bet I could have her wet, panting, and begging for my cock in a matter of seconds. No one has to know, or hell, they can watch as I bend her over the bar and hammer my cock into her pussy. Take her over and over until her cries are lost in the music.

Mine!

As if sensing my sharp gaze on her, Brooke turns around and freezes when our eyes connect. She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was relieved with how her expression eases and her shoulders relax when our eyes lock, but that can’t be right. She has to know that my presence here means her plans for the night are finished.

Or maybe not, I think as she brings a half-empty glass to her lips and takes a sip of what I assume is an alcoholic beverage, watching me for a reaction, but I give her none. My expression does little to display the burning need to bend her on my lap, smack her pert ass, and teach the brat a lesson…then kiss it better.

I am about to move and do just that when someone—a man—steps forward, blocking my view of the girl. He’s barely taller than her, dressed in shiny red pants and a black shirt with long, wavy dark hair that seems to be all the rage with the younger generation these days. I stop, waiting for a distress signal from her for me to step in and take care of the man, but instead, Brooke nods at him. I watch as she brings the glass to her lips and gulps down the rest of the drink before setting it on the bar and following him onto the dance floor. I ignore the sharp twinge of jealousy at the sight of Brooke with another man, choosing to watch them for now.

My eyes narrow to slits when he wraps an arm around her waist and yanks her hard against him. Her eyes widen in surprise before falling into discomfort, but even that fades as she gently places her hands on his shoulders. She glances over at me for a second, and I read it in her eyes.

A challenge.

The brat is daring me to do something about her behavior, but I stand rooted to the floor. Everything in me wants to step in and put an end to her games, but I remind myself that the girl is old enough to date. Maybe not flashy boys with bad haircuts she meets at random clubs, but she doesn’t need me stepping in every time and ruining her chances of meeting someone.

Brooke huffs and flips her hair in annoyance when she fails to get a reaction out of me before turning back to her dance partner. She seems to be enjoying herself, twirling and smiling to the music, but a few minutes later, I sense a sudden energy shift. His hand around her waist lowers to her ass, and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. A flicker of unease crosses her face, but he doesn’t seem to notice; instead, he leans closer and whispers something that makes her expression darken.

“No,” I see her mouth with a pained smile. She pushes back, but the man tightens his hold on her. I read the fear in her eyes when she looks at me with the plea for me to step in and save her. She doesn’t need to ask.

She never does.

I’m already pushing through the sea of bodies as I move toward my girl and her dance partner. I grab the man by the collar of his shirt and forcefully pull him away from her before positioning myself between them. “Walk away,” I say, my voice low and firm, cutting through the noise like a knife. The guylooks up, surprise flashing across his face, followed by bravado. Stupid. Alcohol makes people brave and foolish.

“What the hell, man?” he challenges, swallowing a whimper when I take a step forward.

“Leave before I fuck up your face.”

“W-whatever,” he stammers. “There’s plenty of pussy in this place anyway,” he throws at Brooke before slithering into the crowd and disappearing. I force in a deep breath before turning around. Brooke hugs her arms and avoids my gaze, but we don’t have time to dissect what a stupid idea it was for her to come here tonight. I’ve already the bouncers eyeing me, and I am not in the mood to deal with anymore shit tonight.

“Axel…”

“Not here,” I cut her off, grasping her wrist and turning around to look for her friend. I don’t have to search long as the dark-haired girl steps up next to us. “Here’s what’s going to happen. The two of you are going to follow me out, or I’ll drag you both out kicking and screaming. You,” I nod toward Scarlett, “are going to get into a taxi and go straight home, or so help me—”

“We’ll go,” Brooke says without a fight, and my eyes narrow on her. Convinced that she’s not trying to pull something, I nod for the girls to walk ahead of me. The door bouncer is flanked by a few others when we step out, but none of them approach us as we leave. I walk the two girls to my bike before calling a taxi for Scarlett. Brooke stands by my bike, nervously shuffling her feet as I pay for her friend’s cab. It’s not until that we’re alone that she turns to me. “Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen—”

“Not here,” I say again, conscious of all the eyes on us from across the street.

“Axel…”

I shrug off my jacket and drape it over the trembling girl before climbing on my bike. Last week, Brooke has been acting out for months, taking unnecessary risks and trying to provoke a reaction out of me. Well, she’s finally done it…consequences be damned.

“Get on. I’m taking you home.”

Chapter Three

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