“Disappearing like that, all fucking day and into the night? Nobody had seen you, nobody knew where you were. I thought Riot had come in and taken you.”
I blink. He was worried, and he’s angry, but he spent the entire day with Pinkie and I highly doubt they were painting their nails together in that warehouse, especially with the way I found them this morning, her practically naked and both of them far too close together.
“Nobody had taken me. I don’t leave the property, just like Dragon instructed. I wasn’t alone, I was with Gisele.”
“That’s another thing,” he snaps. “You put Gisele in danger just by being alone with her like that. If Riot saw you two, you think he’d leave her here and only take you?”
I don’t know what to say, what to think. I stare at him, at a complete loss for words as he continues to berate me and basically tells me I have zero sense. I don’t blame him. Gisele is an Old Lady, she’s way more important to this club than I am. If anything happened to her because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
“I’ll apologize to Coyote,” I whisper when he’s finished.
I haven’t heard half of what he’s said, I stopped listening to him, my mind only able to cope with so much negativity before it completely shuts off. Maybe it’s self-preservation, I’m not sure, all I know is I can only handle so much before it becomes too much.
“Apologize to Coyote?” he asks.
Focusing on his gaze, I jerk my chin up slightly. “Yeah. I don’t want to cause any waves. I didn’t realize that walking over to her place, by being with Gisele would put her in danger. I’ll apologize.”
Dylan blinks, then something shifts, it changes and I watch his face turn from anger to confusion. “What the fuck?” he breathes.
“Huh?”
He shakes his head a couple of times, as if he’s trying to refocus, then looks at me again in bewilderment. Pressing my lips together, I watch him, waiting to see what he’s going to get pissed off at me for next. I’ll let him say his shit, then eventually he’ll let me go and I can go back to hiding.
“You don’t need to apologize to anyone. Just don’t do it again, stay inside the clubhouse, where I can find you so I know you’re safe,” he says with a heavy sigh.
Suddenly he sounds tired and I want to ask him if he’s hurting still, if he needs anything, but I decide against it. Pinkie can ask him that, she can take care of him, I think bitterly to myself.
It’s not like I was in his room for over a week taking care of him when the club beat the shit out of him. It wasn’t like I watched his chest rise and fall just to make sure he was still breathing, like I didn’t sleep for days on end. I’m just a stupid kid that he rescued to feel better about himself—nothing more.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
With a hum, I decide not to say anything else. The sooner this can be done, the better. He doesn’t release me though. His body is pressed against mine, holding me hostage against the wall and in the dark.
“You’re pissed.”
“What would I be mad about?” I snap.
His eyes widen and his lips curve up into a grin. “You’re not pissed… you’re jealous.”
Narrowing my gaze on his, I decide not to justify his observation with any words. Instead, I lift my gaze to the sky and let out a heavy exhaled breath.
“Are we done here?” I ask.
He makes a tsking sound, which causes me to grind my teeth together. Shifting my eyes back down to connect with his, I can’t help but wish that this was different. That we were different. That I was more of what he wanted, older, sexier. More like Pinkie. He’d want me then. He wouldn’t think of me as a little kid to rescue, he’d think of me as more.
“Not even fucking close,” he rasps, then before I realize what’s happening, his lips are on mine.
I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside of me. My body goes from stiffened to melting into him as soon as his warm tongue fills mine, as soon as he tastes me, he owns me.
I hate myself.
Letting out a moan, I lift my hands between us and grip his cut. Arching my back, I can’t stop myself from rubbing my chest against his hard torso. The friction relieves and yet intensifies the ache of my breasts.
I need more.
I want him.
Releasing my hold on his cut, I start to slide my hand up his chest when he quickly breaks the kiss and stumbles backward, away from me, as if I’ve burned him in some way. I watch as he lifts his hand, running his fingers through his hair at the same time his eyes find mine.
Regret.
I see it swimming in his gaze and as much as I try to hold back the tears, they just fall again, harder and faster this time.
“Go to bed,” he says, his voice husky, rough, and sexy.
“Dylan—”
He holds up his hand to stop me from speaking. “Get your ass in bed, little girl.”
JAGUAR
I can’t do this with her. She deserves better. She deserves more. I watch as a pained expression crosses her face. Then she squares her shoulders, turns and takes off toward the clubhouse. I watch her ass as she runs, wondering what the absolute fuck is wrong with me?
I could have her, right now.
Make her mine and keep her.
I could do a lot of things, and yet, I keep pushing her away from me. There’s a shadowed figure not far from me, probably thinks that I don’t know he’s there, but he’s watching me. Maybe it’s just what he does these days—watches me.
“Yeah?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He clears his throat, then
