Page 13 of Wretched Soul
“I should go,” I say, pulling my arm free from her touch and snatching up my cufflink from the bar.
She goes to turn, but I use my other hand to press a palm to her stomach, holding her in place long enough to risk weakening my resolve. I’m iron-hard against her back.
“You stay,” I order.
“But you haven’t had your drink.”
“They were both for you,” I say. It’s not quite a lie. The second drink might have been a temptation for me to stay and behave like any normal person might, but it’s also my exit strategy.
“I can’t…”
“Drink,” I say. Then, on a second thought, add, “But make it your last. You need to stay alert in these places.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Maybe. But I can’t handle seeing another man touch you again. Do you want to be responsible for a long list of men who’ll be leaving here with broken arms?” I ask. In a whisper, I add, “You’ve well and truly slayed me. But let’s make that your only killing.”
There’s a pause as Lily digests what I’ve just said. I hope she doesn’t ask me if I’m serious, because I’m deadly.
“Fine,” she says at last, picking up the drink.
I splay my fingers over her stomach, savoring the touch of her body to the last second. As the glass touches her lips, I press my mouth back to her ear. “Your last drink, Slayer,” I repeat. “I’ll be watching.”
Chapter 5
Lily
The Cointreau hits the back of my throat, but the heat is nothing compared to the fire burning in the pit of my stomach. If the wetness between my legs is meant to dampen the flames, it’s having the opposite effect.
As Shade unwraps his arm from my waist, I tense. I want him to slip his hand beneath my dress and between my thighs. I want him to know that he’s had the same effect on me as I’m having on him. Except, I can’t feel that hardness against my spine anymore. As I set the empty glass on the bar, my gaze flicks to the mirror. There are no green eyes staring back at me, and his lingering scent is disappearing too quickly.
I spin to find the space behind me empty. Beyond the private world I’d been pulled into only seconds earlier, the crowd bumps and grinds to the heavy beat of the music my psycho’s mere presence had silenced. He’s tall enough to stand out in the crowd, but as I scan the heaving bodies, there’s no sign of him.
Damn, I still don’t know his name. Or have his number. I’m back to wondering if I’ll ever see him again.
I could almost believe I’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe the cocktail I’d had on arrival had been spiked. The onlyevidence that Shade was real are the two empty glasses on the bar. I search out the barman who’d served us.
“Excuse me,” I call over.
He comes over immediately. “What would you like?”
I shake my head. I’ve been told not to have any more drinks. “I was just… We didn’t pay for the drinks. Do I need to settle up?”
He smiles. “It’s been taken care of.”
“By the man I was with?” When the barman nods, I add, “But he didn’t give you any payment. Does he have a tab? Do you know his name?”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know,” he says, but his eyebrows rise in what looks like a silent apology.
I huff out a sigh. “You’re not going to be any help, are you?”
His smile returns. “I can get you another drink.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Kaitlyn chirps as she appears next to me. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
My friend’s cheeks are flushed, and her dark hair has become a frizzy halo that actually suits her. Kaitlyn never has a bad hair day. “In that case, make it two bottles of water,” I say to the barman.
“Wait! What?” Kaitlyn says. “Oh, no, that won’t do. Make that two margaritas, kind Sir.”
