Page 96 of Wolf.e

Layla rises too, and I swear I hear Chris mutter “fuck me” under his breath.

“You can’t be twenty-years-old, and I know that pussy would bore him to fucking tears. What are you, someone’s kid he’s trying to do a deal with?”

“Chelsea, if this is true, Wolfe will have your head for talking to her like this,” her friend warns her.

“She’s right, he will,” Layla chimes in.

I look at her friend but speak directly to Chelsea. “Your friend is smart enough to keep her mouth shut, but you don’t seem to be. So, I’ll tell you this only once.” I close the distance between us in two steps with Chris on my heels. “Gabriel is mine, if you want to keep that face pretty, I suggest you keep those eyes focused on the grass and your well-used mouth shut when he’s around.”

“Or what?” she spits out, pushing me backward. “You won’t invite me to your next slumber party, Sandra?”

I see red. I lunge at her. Maybe it’s because Gabriel’s been training me so frequently that hitting her just seems like second nature, or maybe it’s because she’s been grating on my nerves since the moment we met. Or maybe, I don’t even care what the reason is. I instinctively bring my hands up and throw a right hook, making sure I follow through with my entire body. I hit her square in the face and it’s a good one. Chelsea falls backward, landing right on her ass in the muddy grass. Blood starts pouring from her nose. Before I can hit her again, or even get near her, Chris has my body in his arms, pulling me back.

“Bitch!” Chelsea yells, clutching her nose.

Someone grabs a hold of her and presses a bandana or a rag against her face to help stop the bleeding.

“Hang around for a hot minute and you’re a bad bitch, are you?” she yells as I struggle from Chris’s hold.

“That’s right, and don’t fucking forget it!” I call out, doing my best to angle my chin the way Gabriel showed me to break free of Chris’s hold.

There’s no need because Chris spins me around and lets go of me. I stop dead in my tracks when I come face to face with Gabriel and Sean. My chest is heaving and I’m sure my eyes are wild.

Gabriel keeps his eyes on me, I can’t tell if he’s angry as he walks right past me. Chelsea’s friend holds onto her arm as he approaches her. He towers over her and I see the fear in her eyes as he contemplates his words.

She looks from him to me as he finally speaks. I flex my aching hand.

“I don’t even remember your fucking name,” he spits out at her. “But if you even look in Brinley’s direction again”—he smirks—“I’ll really let her at you, and I won’t stop her until your face is as battered as your used up cunt.”

Chelsea’s mouth falls open as he spits at her feet.

He turns and motions to Sean. “Get her outta here.”

“On it.” Sean grins.

I expect Gabriel to be pissed off but instead I swear I see a hint of a smirk as he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Christ, Brinley. I’ve been gone thirty fucking minutes.”

“Put me down, I can walk.” I hit his muscled back, humiliated that Chelsea saw Gabriel haul me out of there like some child ready to be punished. All the blood is rushing to my head and I’m molded to his hard shoulder.

“Why is the door locked?” he asks when we’ve reached the top of our cabin steps.

“The key is in my bag that you didn’t let me grab before you tossed me onto your back like a caveman.”

“You looked like you could use some reassuring that the only woman I ever want to touch is you,” Gabriel bites out, squeezing my ass hard. “And I am a fucking caveman when it comes to you.”

I try to take in where we're going from this viewpoint. Gabriel shifts me in his arms and his hand comes up behind my head, laying me onto his bike. My head rests between the handlebars and my legs straddle each side as my skirt gives way for my ass to rest against the warm leather. I realize we’re around the back of the cabin.

“Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, surrounded by many, but alone in space,” Gabriel says in a gruff voice that doesn't match the gentle words as his lips dance up my inner thigh.

I smirk, my eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his mouth on my skin.

“Odd time for embellished Gatsby quotes,” I mutter, my breathing increasing.

Woods stretch out behind us and the music from camp is quieter here, the sound of the church service through a sound system is prevalent.

The hymn music has stopped and there’s a pastor speaking into a microphone.

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