Page 60 of Chasing After You
Dorian growled lowly, “Which is where you should be.”
“I’m on a date—”
“No, you’re trying to convince yourself of something you don’t feel.”
That pissed me off. “You don’t get to say that! You don’t know what I feel!”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear. “I know every single thought that goes through your head,brother. You are going to come with me right now, or I’m going to beat this little prissy bitch to a pulp while you watch.”
“What, no—”
He turned to Eli, gave him a tight, polite nod. “Sorry, find another fucktoy for the night.”
And then he grabbed my wrist, tight enough that I briefly wondered if it’d bruise from his grip. He roughly pulled me out of the bar, towards his bike.
“You can’t just show up and drag me out like that!” I snapped, pulling my arm free. “What the hell is wrong with you? You just ruined any chance I had with him! How did you even know where I was? Did you follow me here?”
He shoved a helmet into my trembling hands. “Put that on.”
“No! What the fuck?” I shouted, pushing the helmet into his chest.
“You were going to make a mistake!” he yelled back.
“What do you even mean?”
“Put. The. Helmet. On,” he seethed, pushing it back at me. “Put it on or I will go in there and shove a spoon into his eye.”
We stood there, breathing hard, neither of us backing down.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, voice cracking. “Why can’t you just let me do this?”
“Because it would be a fucking mistake,” he said, stepping closer. “Because no one else will ever understand you like I do. No one else will everloveyou like I do.”
That word echoed in my head.
Love.
“You don’t love me,” I said, but it didn’t come out steady.
His eyes searched mine. “Don’t I?”
And then he kissed me.
There was no hesitation, no room to pull away—just heat and hunger and all the things I’d been desperately pretending weren’t there. His palms cradled my face like I was something sacred and fragile andhis.
I shoved him away, breathless. “Dorian…”
His chest rose and fell, eyes still burning. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, my voice coming in harsh pants.
“Yes, you do. I would’ve put you over my knee and caned your ass if you’d just admitted that you needed my attention. You didn’t have to come out here acting like a goddamn whore. You’re. Mine.”
I stared at him, unsure if I wanted to punch him or feel his lips against mine again, maybe for longer this time.
“Take me home, please,” I finally whispered, voice hoarse.
Neither of us spoke on the ride back.
