Page 10 of Savage Fire

“But they both ended their manwhore ways when they found the woman they wanted to be with. If you give them a chance, they could surprise you,” Skathi finished.

Liz snorted, once again shaking the booth seat. “Some, not all,” she muttered, leaning forward to reach for a shot glass and pouring herself another tequila. “Some are exactly what they say they are, so you should believe them.”

Apparently, Liz’s history with Trouble was more complicated that Tessa originally thought.

Desperate to turn the conversation to something other than her flailing, drowning love life and ineffective attempt to keep Fang out of her brain, she leaned her elbows on the table, grinned at Fae, and asked, “So where’s Hawk? I’m surprised he’s not hovering, waiting for you to get drunk so he can take advantage of you.”

Fae giggled. “I don’t need to be drunk for him to do that.” A lovely, telling blush stole over her cheeks. “He’s working an overnight gig for SP. Won’t be back until late tomorrow. He’s got Davey keeping an eye on me.” Davey, the prospect, was a good kid.

“You know that man has Davey texting him every detail, down to how many buttons are undone on your blouse,” Liz said, her tone slipping from teasing to bitter.

“Probably,” Fae agreed, her blush darkening.

Hawk, Fae’s boyfriend, was a Harvard educated, American-born Scottish nobleman’s son, who also happened to be a badass bodyguard working for the club’s security and protection company, Savage Protection. Fae and Hawk’s romance had been a bumpy ride that included potholes created by Fae’s scheming step-sister and manager, and an obsessed stalker, who also happened to be an FBI agent. After all the crazy they endured, their happily ever after was one that made Tessa stop, stare…and yearn. She also gloated a bit, too, since she had a hand in making Hawk pull his head out of his ass about what he felt for Fae.

Fae’s expression turned mischievous as her gaze landed on something behind Tessa.

Athisscent—spice and leather—Tessa’s breath caught.

“Tessa,mi amor, if I’d known you’d be coming here, I would have been here waiting for you,” drawled a deep, accented, sexy as hell voice, as warm breath skittered over the nape of her neck, making the loose, blonde hairs curled there brush over her now sensitized flesh. The heat of his large body soaking through her back, lighting small blazes in her blood.

MotherfuckingFang.

Shit. Damn! She’d hoped to avoid him, knowing he was busy with the club’s new purchase of the MMA gym, formerly Steele Fist. Now, it was Savage Fist, and Fang was the manager.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from groaning—whether in frustration or need, she didn’t know—she stiffened, turned only her head to look over her shoulder, and bravely met his gaze.

“And if I’d known you’d be here, I would have taken the party elsewhere,” she replied acidly.

The man smirked wickedly, his dark velvet eyes glittering with mirth.

“Don’t be like that,corazon. You know I would just follow you….”

She rolled her eyes, knowing the actual truth of that statement. The man enjoyed the chase, but once he caught was he was chasing, he’d lose interest. But would he, really? The man had practically planted himself in her life after her attack, refusing to leave, rooting himself so deep in her every day that even now she expected to hear his voice in her condo when she was home. Alone.

She could hear her mother’s voice in her ear,“The heart is wise but young. It matures as life batters it, but the journey can also heal it….”Her mother had been correct. Her heart knew that falling for Fang was a bad idea (wisdom), but the stupid thing just didn’t care.

It was the post-Jacob mother that made more sense. Her words were less romantic and more…warning.

“The heart is foolish,mija. Guard it with everything you have….”

But guarding it meant keeping Fang away. It meant pushing away any chance of being with the man who’d dug a trench beneath her walls and laid siege to her soul…by just being there for her.

Would letting him fuck her really be so bad?

Yes! Because you care too much already! Sexing with that guy would be like deep frying butter—making something already bad for you, that much worse.

She could feel him leaning in, his lips drifting over the skin right beneath her ear. A full body shudder reared up, but she fought it back. This man could not know just how much he affected her.

She would not be one of his casual lays. She wasn’t capable of it.

His breath flitting over her neck, he murmured darkly, “I would follow you anywhere,mi fuega. Even to hell itself.”

Tessa snorted, rolling her eyes, and turning back toward the table.

“Hell is right,fuerzo negro. Its where men like you belong,” she sneered. She felt him stiffen, the air around her beginning to chill.

“You are right,mi angelita. I do belong in Hell…but I would have a taste of heaven before I go.”

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