“I don’t know how I feel. When he’s around, I forget to think, and my body reacts on its own. But after last night, I feel like I was just shoved underwater and am unable to breathe,” I ramble. “Before Zeek, I was okay not having butterflies. I was fine not having sex. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but it didn’t hurt. Knowing Zeek was the bad guy and I was the good guy was something I could accept, but now… I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Whoa.” Looking up under my lashes, Alessandra is staring at me like I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.
“I just don’t see how we’ll ever work. I’m the pig cop and he’s the ruthless outlaw.”
“Hmm.” Alessandra makes that sound when she disagrees but doesn’t want to voice it. Or when she has nothing to say, which is rare.
“Besides, he likes to have dozens of gorgeous women on his arm, and I’m not okay with that. Not to mention he’s pig-headed, arrogant, and controlling,” I huff. Just thinking about him storming in here and handcuffing me to the bed makes me angrier by the second.
“So, what all did he say before he cuffed you to the bed?”
I flick my eyes to hers and frown.
“I don’t know. Something about the way he’s drawn to me scares him. That he used to like being with lots of women, but after me things don’t seem so simple. He said I made him feel alive.”
“Wow.” Her voice comes out in awe. Great, even she’s falling head over heels for him.
“Don’t you side with him!” I point at her. She holds her hands up in surrender.
“I mean, he’s not in a short supply of women, Jillian. It’s not as if you’re not replaceable. So him coming here, making you hear him out? That has to stand for something.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.
“You guys went into this without any boundaries. I’d say now that guidelines are forming, go for it. Oh!” She holds up her hand. “But make him work for it. Don’t forgive him right away. Nobody ever remembers those who give in easily, it’s those who make you work for it.”
“Right now, I want to kill him.”
“You at work tonight?” she asks, changing the subject effortlessly.
“Yup. You?”
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “I gotta go. Details when we go on break if he shows up again?”
“Maybe.” I smirk.
“You better. It was me being threatened in the dark by him that started all this in the first place, remember? You can at least give me the dirty details.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. I almost forgot he threatened her.
“Bye!” She laughs, heading out the door.
ZEEK
Sitting on the couch at the club, I glance around and watch everyone as they begin planning for the party.
I’m really not in the fucking mood for this shit.
Pulling out my phone, I look to see if Jillian has replied to any of the twenty texts I’ve sent, which she hasn’t. It started out as one text, but then I had more to say, so it went to two. Then I got angry when she didn’t reply and sent a shitty third text, which was followed up with a nicer one. Before I knew it, there were twenty fucking text messages. I’m not proud. In fact, I’m about to ask Siri where my balls are.
I’ve never felt like this before. That thought keeps circling in my head, and it’s driving me insane. I have been around dozens of girls, yet never felt the need for more than a fuck, pushing them out the door before they can correct me on their name. Candy, Sasha, Lizzy—they’re all the same. Only reason I remember Dolly is because she’s insane and won’t move on. But Jillian, she’s stuck. Maybe it’s because she’s not a girl, but a woman. Maybe it’s because she’s the only one with an IQ higher than her age. Either way, when I’m not around her all I can think about is her… and, of course, her body. But this shit with her not replying back to my texts? It has me twisted up worse than words can explain. I’m angry… and horny.
“Need a drink?” Machete asks.
Sitting up in my seat, I exhale slowly. I could drink. It would take a lot to get rid of this shit circling in my head, but it’s a start.
“You should take a drink, or get laid. Something, brother, ‘cause you’re angry on any normal day, but the last two days you’ve been fucking insane.” He glances over at the dartboard. I got pissed and ripped it and half the drywall down yesterday.
“I’m fine,” I grumble. I’m not, though. I’m far from fucking fine. One sheriff made me lose my mind. One woman brought me to my knees. One blonde-headed beauty has me changing every aspect that makes me me.
I tried to leave her alone after that first night, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I can’t. I warned her, told her not to give in and kiss me. I told her to tell me no, because I knew once I had her I wasn’t going to let her go.
Commotion at the entrance catches my attention. A couple of prospects, plus Bones and Cross, are talking in a circle. Fucking Cross. He’s wearing dress pants and a maroon button-down, his brown hair slicked back and shining. He’s shorter than any of my men, but has muscle.
“What the fuck is that about?” Pointing toward the guys, I lift a concerning brow.
“Not sure, brother.” Standing, I stomp over to them, and Cross stops talking immediately.
“Zevin, how good of you to get up and come over.” His tone is condescending, and he’s not even looking at me.