Cannon (A Step Brother Romance #3)

"I have nothing to say to you."

Jared turns toward the girl who's standing silently by the sinks. "Normally I'd let you suck my cock, sweetheart, but you can get the hell out of here." She stares stupidly at him, and he speaks more loudly. "Get lost."

"Asshole," she mutters, stumbling drunkenly out of the bathroom.

"I'm not staying either, Jared," I say, but he's in front of me, in my space with his hand still on my wrist, and he walks slowly forward, backing me up toward the wall. My heart catches in my throat.

"Get. Out. Now." Hendrix is opening the door, grabbing Jared by the back of his shirt. He slams him up against the wall.

"Hendrix! Don't! Please!"

Hendrix's face is contorted in anger. "I thought I told you to get the fuck out of this club," he says.

"Get out, Jared," I say. I'm terrified and I want Jared to leave, but not out of any sympathy for him. I'm worried about Hendrix. I'm worried Hendrix will do something that will get him in trouble, and that will be it.

"Nice bodyguard you have here, Addison," he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "We were just having a little chat about how she likes getting it on in public restrooms."

Hendrix punches him across the jaw, the blow sudden and fierce, and Jared slides down the wall onto the floor with his head down.

"Hendrix!" I yell. "Did you just kill him? Please tell me you didn't just kill him. We need to check his pulse or something." But Hendrix has his hand on my arm, and he takes me, wordlessly guiding me out the door of the bathroom.

Sapphire is outside of the bathroom, and Hendrix yells at her. "Your friend is passed out on the floor in there," he says. "You should go get him."

"Addy," she calls after me, but Hendrix is already guiding me out the back exit of the club.

"You're walking too fast." I can barely keep up on my high heels, and I stumble.

Before I know what's happening, Hendrix grabs me and slings me up over his shoulder. "Now you don't have to walk."

"Hendrix, stop being such a dick. Put me down. My ass is hanging out everywhere."

He covers my ass with his hand. "There. Now it's not."

"I'm serious, Hendrix," I yell, smacking him on the back. "If you don't put me down, I'm going to fucking scream."

He doesn't say anything, just walks back to the car, and sets me down on the ground, hard. "There," he says. "Happy now?"

"I didn't need your help in there," I say. "I don't need you to go all fucking – I don't know what –"

"Marine?" he asks, crossing his arms across his chest. He smirks at me, and I want to smack him across his face. His very sexy, very chiseled face.

"Yes," I say, flustered by the fact that his eyes bore into me, but I don't want him to stop looking at me the way he does. I brush my hair away from my face. "I didn't need you to go all fucking Marine on them. I don't need you to rescue me."

"Could have fooled me," he says. "Looked like you needed rescuing the minute you walked out of your door wearing that tonight."

"What's wrong with this?" I ask. "I'll wear whatever I damn well want to."

"You might as well be naked," he says, just like he did before. He leans forward, his hands on the roof of the car above me, and I inhale sharply at how close he is to me. And at the way he says naked, like that's exactly what he wants. I can't take my eyes off his lips. I want to feel them against me. "I'd rather you were naked."

I raise my eyebrows, my throat pounding loudly in my chest. "I thought you didn't approve of this dress."

Hendrix leans forward, his mouth close to my ear. He runs his hand slowly up my thigh. "I said, I would rather you were naked. But I approve of the dress," he says. "Only because I know you wore it to get a rise out of me."

"I wore it for myself," I lie. "You're delusional."

He doesn't take his eyes off me as he reaches between my legs. And I don't stop him. "You're wearing panties, which is unfortunate," he notes. But you're wet. Just admit that tonight was all about getting a reaction from me, Addison."

I shrug, trying to be nonchalant when my heart is about to beat out of my freaking chest.

"Okay, have it your way. Get in the car," he orders, his voice gruff. I stand there stupidly for a moment, a hot mess of desire and need that overtakes my ability to even form a rational thought, and then Hendrix pulls away from me and opens the car door, ushering me inside.

On the short drive home, he's silent, and I wonder for a moment if what happened between us again really happened, or if it's just a figment of my imagination, some kind of late night delusion. But as soon as we step inside the apartment, Hendrix has me by my arms and presses me up against the wall, his hand running up my thigh. "Admit it," Hendrix says softly.

"It's all about you, Hendrix," I say sarcastically. But that's actually the truth. It is all about him, isn't it?

"It is all about me, Addy-girl," he says. "It's all about you and me. Always has been."





THREE YEARS AGO