Page 47 of Red My Lips

When did that become a comfort?

“Okay, the only talk of boys we’re gonna be doing for the rest of the night is when we send in our dinner order,” Lana declares, pushing her hair out of her face with a headband. I follow her back out into the kitchen, where she opens a bottle of wine. “Now, what do we want to eat?”

Chapter Nineteen

Gage

Striding into the dressing room, I feel like my body is being drawn by a magnet. Jill is standing just inside the door like I knew she would be. The sight of her settles my raging soul, and a small weight is lifted off my chest.

She’s been avoiding me since the day at the medical examiner’s office last week, not that she would admit it. But I’ve noticed how she edges away from me, how she’s the first to break eye contact. I tried to corner her earlier behind the bar, but she muttered something before using one of the servers dropping a glass as a distraction to make her escape.

She thinks one emotional afternoon looking for her brother was a sign of weakness, and she doesn’t like that I was the one who saw her crack. But I don’t see it that way. All I saw was a strong woman trying to find the answers she needs.

Looking for her brother has been weighing on her, and the stress of it shows more everyday. I’m tempted to ease her mind, but I know she’s better off not knowing the truth. At least not yet. Her brother was a leech, sucking the life out of her. She deserves a life free of him.

But that doesn’t stop her from having questions. She might not have gotten them the other day, but I liked being there anyway. I want to be there to hold her hand next time too, and I plan to be.

“What are you doing in here?” Jill asks flatly. “Did you miss the part of the sign on the door that says women’s dressing room?”

“You said you wanted to fuck.” I spread my arms out and gesture to my body. “Here I am.”

“What I said was ‘fuck off.’ But nice try.” Her sharp words make me grin. “While you’re here, make yourself useful and zip me up.”

I step forward, breathing in her sensual perfume. Taking hold of her open dress, I grasp the zipper where it sits halfway up. My hands itch with the desire to yank the little piece of metal down with so much force that the dress tears in two. Instead, I drag my fingers along the curve of her ass and spine as I close the dress.

“What exactly am I zipping this up for?” Or who.

“I have a date.” Her response has my expression darkening. She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes looking pointedly at my crotch, feigning a pitying expression. “But have fun taking care of your little problem.”

She turns to leave the room, but I’m faster. My hands grab her by the waist, leg kicking the door closed with a bang. I use my hold on her to slam her against the wall, and my body follows. Her full breasts press against me with every amped breath, every one of her soft curves molded against my hard panes. She looks up at me with those enchanting eyes, making my possessive tendencies surge.

“Another man touching you isn’t good for his health,” I inform her, darkness rumbling beneath my voice in a very unveiled threat. Jill’s expression remains unbothered, but her eyes on me heat. Her eyes pull from mine to briefly glance at my lips, and I’m sure she’s going to kiss me.

Do it, kiss me.

Instead, she gives me a smile that settles into my chest and makes my cock twitch—one full of dark promises. “That’s not something you need to worry yourself with,” she says, piquing my interest.

I’ll see about that.

Jill pushes against my chest just hard enough to side-step out of my grasp. The sultry look she flashes me over her shoulder before walking out the door has me striding to my office.

Clicking open the security footage, I track her movements through the halls on my monitor while I pull my Ruger out of my desk drawer and check the clip. I watch Jill move through the club towards the front door while I tuck the handgun behind my back into the waistband of my pants and pull my shirt over it. Even in a hurry and pixelated on a screen, Jill looks infuriatingly good in her little black dress. Grabbing my keys off the desk, I’m on the move.

It was raining earlier, so I didn’t take my bike to the club. I drove my Yukon, which gave me an advantage. Jill might be listening for my motorcycle, but she won’t be looking for my car. She’s going to lead me straight to the sack of shit that’s going to lose his hands if he even thinks about touching her.

Vince fucking Rossi.

The edges of my vision turn red at the sight of the loan shark’s ugly face.

I followed Jill to an upscale restaurant, where she found a seat at the bar. After fifteen minutes, I was beginning to think she’d lied to me—that there wasn’t another man after all. But then Vince showed up.

He walks up to where Jill sits at the bar and doesn’t stop until he’s leaning so closely over her shoulder that he’s practically on top of her. Taken slightly off guard, Jill turns to find Vince’s mouth just centimeters from hers. A look of contempt flashes across her face so fast that anyone else would’ve missed it before her sultry smile—but I didn’t. That’s when it hits me.

This isn’t a date. It’s a hit.

Jill isn’t going to fuck Vince tonight. She’s going to kill him. Adrenaline floods through me at the realization, the excitement seeping into my veins until I’m intoxicated. A grin spreads across my face, and my muscles relax as I ease back against my chair.

This changes everything. Instead of watching some asshat paw my girl and plotting his slow and painful death, I get to watch my Jill do it. And she does it so beautifully.

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