I watch the waiters and waitresses circulate the room with bottles of wine, filling everyone’s cups. A waiter arrives at my table, blocking my view of Makayla’s table as he mumbles something about the wine and takes our glasses. I notice the knuckles on his right hand are scabbed over and calloused. I look up at him with narrowed eyes. He’s a hell of a lot rougher around the edges than the average server, and he fills our glasses way too high.
My attention is quickly drawn away when he steps to the side and I see Makayla storming toward my table. Fuck, I can’t keep my eyes on her face because that dress is doing some wonderful things for her body. I’m practically mesmerized by the way her full tits are bouncing with every swaying step until she’s right in my face. Becca sits beside me, laughing and talking with the people at our table. She doesn’t seem to notice Makayla, which is probably for the best. She has been trying to flirt with me since I took the job protecting her and I think she might bring her claws out if she sensed my interest in Makayla.
“So this is why you quit?” asks Makayla.
I tear my gaze from her tits and look into her eyes. I see the hurt and pain there, hating myself for being the one who caused it. “This isn’t the place to talk,” I mutter.
“Oh yes it is,” she says dangerously.
I clear my throat, painfully aware that it’s only a matter of time until Becca notices her and makes this worse. “Why don’t we talk somewhere--”
“We’re talking here,” she says, folding her arms under her breasts.
God. The way her tits balloon upward gives me a sinfully good look at her perfectly milky skin. My cock is rock hard and I discreetly rest my forearm on it, trying to ease the pressure of it trying to burst through my slacks.
I know what she wants to talk about, and I realize I may have done more damage by keeping the truth from her. If she forgives me, I might not be able to stop myself from letting her get close again, and if she gets close, she’s in danger. At least until I can figure out how to get to Liam and stop his plans for revenge.
I hate myself for doing it, but I know I can’t stand her thinking I’ve betrayed her again. I thought I could do it, but every moment since I left her again has been like torture. I’ll just have to find a way to make sure Liam can’t get to her. I’m about to tell her the truth when I hear a soft hmmmm from behind me.
I don’t need to look back to know Becca just set her sights on Makayla.
“Is this an ex of yours, Jesse?” Becca purrs. She talks in slow, sultry tones, as if every word out of her mouth is muttered across the pillows of a luxurious bed.
I don’t quite know how to answer her, but Makayla saves me the trouble.
“I’m nobody to him,” she says sweetly, reaching to shake Becca’s hand.
Becca waits just a heartbeat too long to take Makayla’s hand, delicately shaking it. “Do I recognize you from somewhere, sweetie? Weren’t you in one of those made-for-television movies?”
Makayla smiles tightly. “I play the lead in Stalked. You know, the show this event is celebrating.”
Becca laughs unconvincingly. “Of course. It’s just so hard to keep track of all the shows lately. It seems like they are popping up everywhere. It’s good though. It gives people a chance to try their hand at acting even if they can’t make it to the big screen.”
I clear my throat. “Makayla’s not an ex, actually,” I say, standing and sliding my arm around her waist. I feel her shudder at my touch. “We’re currently dating,” I say, gently pulling her chin toward me with two fingers and kissing her softly on the lips. I can practically feel an electric jolt of energy pass between us, making my already hard cock throb painfully. Her lips are soft, warm, and it’s hard to pull away. She looks back at me, face momentarily frozen in pleasant shock. I see a flash of anger in her eyes and her hand comes toward me. I catch what she intends as a slap and slow her arm down, placing it on my cheek and winking at her as I force her to caress my face.
She bites her lip.
Becca’s lip curls in distaste.”Well stop slobbering over her and get back to work. For how much I’m paying you--”
“I was just leaving,” says Makayla, but that idiot she’s with shows up at her shoulder. He’s clearly pissed, in the way privileged rich kids who are used to getting their way get pissed. I touched something that was his and he’s here to remind me that he doesn’t like to share.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks me.
“Who’s this?” asks Becca, the corner of her lip pulling up in a smirk as she starts to puzzle together the situation.
“Her fucking date,” snaps Hunter. “At least I was until she started kissing this asshole.”
“So you two are together, but she’s also dating this one?” asks Becca. She gives Makayla a predatory look. “Since you’re okay with being shared, you won’t mind if I take a little bite of this man of yours later tonight, will you? I just have to have him.”
I’m about to protest but Makayla beats me to it.
“LIke hell you will,” she snaps. “If you so much as...” Her voice trails off and her cheeks blossom with red.
I grin, quirking an eyebrow at her. She gives me a confused look, clearly not expecting this exchange to have turned out this way..
Hunter is fuming, apparently not sure who he should be pissed at or what’s even happening.
Becca leans back in her chair, laughing through her nose without taking her eyes from Makayla. She opens her mouth to speak and I interrupt her, tired of this mess.
First I turn to Becca. “I’d rather cut my dick off than put it anywhere near your poisonous ass, so you can stuff it.” I look to Hunter next. “And if you put your fucking hand on Makayla one more time I swear to God I will snap it off.” Lastly, I look at Makayla. “You and I are going to talk privately. Now,” I add.
She flexes her jaw and her chest heaves, drawing my eyes to those perfect tits again. Instead of taking my offered hand though, she turns and walks back to the table where Kennedy sits.
Hunter walks after her, fists bunched at his sides, making him look exactly like the spoiled brat he is. I plop down and glance at Becca, who is openly fuming. I grab her wine and kick it back. “Get over it,” I mutter, turning to watch Makayla.
But something catches my eye. I notice another waiter who looks out of place. His movements are precise and his eyes are hard, harder than any waiter’s eyes I’ve ever seen. There’s something really fucking familiar about him. I watch him and realize he’s pulling a small container from his pocket and drizzling something into a man’s glass before handing the wine back to him.
Poison?