“I paid for her company, didn’t I? So she should be done with her shift. Cut her.”
“Sure thing. Soon as you settle up with Diane over here, we’ll send our Kitten on her way.” Red patted his head, and he jerked out from her touch. She just laughed. “You’re a prickly one, aren’t you? No worry. I’m sure you’re more fun when you aren’t feeling the hot sting of jealousy. Take care of our Kitten. She’s a good worker.”
If Michael had it his way, she’d never step foot inside the bar again. This place was toxic for her. But Kat climbed down—finally—behind the bar and waited while he cashed out his tab—auction price included—with the bartender named Diane. Then Kat motioned for him to wait for her outside. He knew she’d come out the side entrance after going through the employee hallway and nodded he would meet her there.
And when he did… he’d be getting his money’s worth. Two hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of lecturing.
Chapter 11
“So, hi.” Kat edged the door closed behind her, shutting out the music of the bar and all the ruckus. “I’d ask how your night was going, but I think I know the answer.”
Michael’s expression could have been carved from stone. He stood, hands in the pockets of his jacket, feet braced apart, ready for a fight.
“Okay, so it wasn’t my best night.” Kat sighed and tucked her own hands away, walking toward him. In the dim light of the alley, he was nearly a menacing figure. For the first time, she actually felt the full weight of his potential strength that he kept well-banked around her. What that strength could do if he unleashed it. And knew, without a doubt, he’d never let it off the chain with her.
At least not the physical portion.
“But it was funny, you have to admit.” She slowed her steps, uncertainty taking over as he didn’t move an inch. “This was a last-minute thing. I didn’t ask to get up there. I wasn’t dying to get auctioned off like a pig at the market. But once I was up there, it seemed best to not cause a scene and go with it.”
“Not cause a scene.” It was the first words he’d spoken since she left the building, and they made her shiver a little.
“Well, a bigger scene,” she amended, finally reaching him. Looking up, his face was shadowed by the poor light, and she cursed that she couldn’t read his expression. See how hard his jaw was set, if his eyes were blazing with anger or if they crinkled at the corners just a little in concealed humor. “I thought throwing myself into the crowd and crowd surfing out of there would be a bigger problem than if I just enjoyed the situation and moved on.”
“You did enjoy it, didn’t you?”
“So what if I did?” Unwilling to hear a lecture about how shallow she was or that she was an attention whore, Kat slid around him and started walking for the main road. “Sometimes it’s nice to cut loose and laugh at myself a little. Sorry if you don’t know how to enjoy life, but—”
Whatever she was going to say was cut off abruptly as he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back against his chest. She let out a soft breath of air as she landed hard against him.
“I know how to enjoy life.” His voice was darker than the night. His hand was warm as it crept under the polo shirt and splayed across her bare abdomen. His touch was exciting and a little daunting. “I’ve had a perfectly enjoyable, easygoing life up until now.” He nuzzled at her hair, her ear, the side of her neck. And his breath was hot on the sensitive skin just beneath her ear when he added, “You drive me insane.”
“Th-that’s not my problem,” she managed to get out as he sucked gently on the skin there, below her hairline. Her hands trembled when they reached up and cupped the back of his neck, silently encouraging him to continue. Her other hand wrapped around his arm at her torso. “If you’re a stick-in-the-mud—”
Michael chuckled. “Stick-in-the-mud. My friends would love that. I’ve never been a stick, that’s for sure. You just… bring out a different side in me.”
“The stick side?” she asked, gasping a little when he grazed his teeth over her skin at the place where her neck and shoulder connected. “Oh, you mean the mud side.”
“Brat.” His hand tightened at her stomach, fingertips grazing all over, electrifying her nerves. “I need to take you home.”
“Why, Michael, I know you paid for my company, but I’m not that kind of girl.” She fought to keep her voice light and almost Southern belle-like. But he made it so damn hard to concentrate when he did that to her…
“Get in the car, and don’t fight me on this. We’re going home.” His hand tightened just another second, and he nipped at her shoulder almost as a warning before letting her go and walking toward the front of the alley to the street.
“Don’t fight me on this,” she muttered under her breath. But when he half turned his head, almost as if he’d heard her, she hustled up and followed.