Page 18 of Dash

If I’d been alone, I would have done more than fucking scare him.

She shivers, goosebumps rising on her arms. Without a thought, I shrug out of my kutte and tear my hoodie over my head, then I slide it over hers.

Her protest is muffled beneath the fabric, and I realise my mistake immediately. Dayna in my clothes ignites a fire I didn’t know was burning so hot.

Fuck.

I tear my gaze away and pull on my kutte over my tee so I don’t have to look at her standing there wearing me.

“Won’t you get cold?” she asks, already snuggling into the warmth I left on it.

I clear my throat. “I’m good.”

I want to ask her what the hell she was doing with that soggy fucking noodle of a guy. She’s so far out of his league, he shouldn’t be breathing the same air as her. Dayna is fucking fire that burns brighter than that sad, limp-dicked bastard ever could.

I want to push, but she’s in my hoodie and she’s still shaking, so I swallow my question.

“I’ll take you home.”

I expect her to argue, but she nods, which tells me exactly how rattled she is by what happened.

If I hadn’t been here tonight…

Don’t fucking go there.

You were. She’s okay. Limp dick can slither off under whatever mediocre rock he crawled out from under.

My hand rests on the small of her back, suddenly needing to touch her, to remind myself she’s okay, and I don’t fucking know why.

We aren’t together.

Something oily gnaws at my gut at that thought of that cunt touching her, and I can’t fucking calm my brain as I guide her over to my bike.

“Nice wheels.” She’s impressed, and I like that she is.

“You know how to ride?”

She snorts. “Nope.”

Good. That means I can show her. “As a passenger, you got the easy job. Just hold on and don’t fall off.”

She stares at the chrome before looking at me. “You want me to get on the bike?” There’s no fear there, just curiosity.

“It’s the only ride I got, babe.”

“I can grab a taxi.”

I seize her wrist before she can run. Her eyes snap to mine, and for a second, she lets me see beneath the cocky, sharp-tongued mask.

Just a second, but it’s enough. There’s vulnerability in her eyes. And something far more dangerous.

Hope.

She wants me.This. She’s just scared.

My thumb slides back and forwards over her skin, as if it has a mind of its own, as if I can calm that cornered animal inside her. “Babe, it’s Saturday night. Taxis will be hard to get. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her bottom lip slides between her teeth, a nervous tick maybe. It makes me want to wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

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