Page 33 of Serena
“Yes.”
“Diamonds remind me of little pieces of shattered glass.” She looks away.
Shit! Now I feel like an asshole. I see her getting lost in her thoughts. The music begins again, so I grab her elbow and bring her to me, placing her on my lap, and I wrap my hands around her waist. We’re both facing the guitarist, and I feel her melt into me, leaning back onto my chest. I whisper in her ear, “I prefer emeralds anyway.” I could sit here and hold her forever. She stays on my lap and eats her pizza.
She excuses herself to go to the restroom, giving me the opportunity to pay the bill, but she’s taking a while. It’s Saturday night, so it’s getting busy with the bar nightlife. It’s been ten minutes. Why is she taking so long? I decide to go find out. I start making my way to her.
“Back off, asshole.” I hear a woman yell, but I immediately recognize the voice—Serena. I turn right into the hallway that’s now full of partygoers, and there against the wall, a couple of feet away from the restroom, is Serena with a man hunched over her. It’s as if she can sense me, and we lock eyes.
The man just made the biggest mistake of his life. He stands up to his full height, which is still a couple of inches shorter than mine. This motherfucker is trying to intimidate my woman. I know what he’s about to do before he even does it. Without hesitation, I lunge at him, grab him by the back of his neck, and pull him away from her. I turn him toward me and punch him straight in the face until I hear bone crack, then throw him to the ground. I turn to her. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but…”
“Tell me.” My tone is harsher than I intended because I'm mad at myself.
“He bumped into me and spilled his drink on my top. Then he grabbed my breasts. I pushed him off and punched him in the throat.”
It’s so hot that she can defend herself, but this guy is almost a foot taller than her and seems to weigh more than me. She needsto learn to pick her battles, that or carry a goddamn weapon. I pull out my phone and send a text.
“Which hand?” I ask her.
“What?”
“Which hand did he touch you with?”
“He-he, both, he used both.”
Well, this motherfucker just signed his death sentence. I look up to see Augustus walking toward Serena and me. “Take her back to the hotel,” I order. I turn to her, my expression lacking anything but warmth. “Go with Augustus and don’t leave the fucking room. I’ll join you shortly.”
“Ian…”
“Don’t argue with me, Serena. This is not the time nor the place.”
Augustus leads her out of the shitty hallway, and I turn my attention back to the piece of shit lying cold on the ground. This seems to be the norm here because no one is paying any attention to us. As soon as Serena and Augustus are out of view, two men make their way to me.
What is happening? I ask myself as my reflection stares back at me. Today has given me whiplash. This morning was, I don’t even know how to describe it—mind-blowing. I can still feel his mouth on me, the way he fucked my pussy with his tongue and fingers. The ease with which we just walked around, him holding me while listening to the guitar. I can’t believe I let him hold me like that. I don’t cuddle, but the way he held me, the conversation.
I didn’t know what to think of it, so I made up an excuse that I needed to use the restroom. When I was making my way back to Ian, a drunk idiot bumped into me on purpose and then decided to try to feel me up. My instinct was to defend myself, so I punched him. That’s when I saw Ian; I’ve never seen that look on his face. He was a different person, one I’ve never encountered until tonight; one who sent chills down my spine, but who I wasn’t afraid of.
Augustus brought me back to the room a couple of hours ago, and there’s still nothing from Ian. So I've been taking the longest shower of my life. I can still feel his arms wrapped around me, and it’s the safest I’ve felt in a really long time. When he walks next to me, I don’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder. Knowing that I'm not alone helps me relax and enjoy myself, and that’s maybe why I shared some things about myself. He doesn’t know it, but he is the only person whom I've shared my dislike of diamonds with. It may seem trivial to others. I also prefer emeralds; it’s my birthstone.
Putting on one of my new pajama sets, I make my way to the balcony. There’s a full moon out tonight, and the stars are shining so bright that I can see their reflection in the dark ocean water. I look to the sky and start counting the stars; it’s something that I've always done—a way to calm my nerves. The air changes around me; there is a vibration that envelops my senses, and I can feel him before he even says a word.
“So beautiful.”
I turn and see Ian standing at the balcony doorframe with his arms crossed. He looks like he just stepped out of the shower. This man was carved into perfection; his skin is flawless, not a sign of scrapes or scars. Unlike me, that thought alone makes me wince internally. I know he saw my scars. There’s no way he wouldn’t have while we were on the beach, but he didn’t ask about them. So I just moved on because if he’d ask, I don’t know what lie I’d tell him. Telling him the truth isn’t an option.
“Yes, they are, but I didn’t take you as a stargazer,” I say.
“I wasn’t talking about the stars.”
I can feel my cheeks heat. “Is this your thing?” I eye the balcony door. “To stand there and stare at women from the balcony door?”
“Not women, just you.”
This man has me wound up so tightly, and I don’t think I can run from him. I don’t think I want to, not right now at least. I hate him for having this effect on me. I shouldn’t, but fuck it. Without saying a word, I close the distance between us. Standing in front of him, I don’t hesitate; getting on my tippy toes, I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pull him into a kiss. He opens for me immediately, wrapping his arms around me, bringing me closer to him. It’s a fight for dominance, but I decide to give in. Letting him take control, and he seems to realize it, because his grip around me tightens. I feel his erection on my stomach and can’t help myself. Bringing one hand down, I squeeze him so hard that it elicits a deep moan from him, a sound I feel in my core. His kiss takes my breath away. He removes his hands from around me, and they travel down to my thighs, lifting me to him. I wrap my legs around him and tighten my hold around his neck. Grinding my hips on his stomach. I moan into his mouth.
“So needy.” I can practically hear him laughing.
