Page 44 of Savage Fire

Grabbing a duffel from his closet, he knew he needed to eventually come back and pack everything, but he’d deal with that when he wasn’t mixed up in other more important shit. He owned the house, he could keep his shit there if he wanted, but he knew Tessa would take issue with him returning to the scene of her pain and humiliation.

Throwing clothes into the duffel, making a mental list of what else he’d need that he didn’t already keep in his room at the clubhouse, he didn’t hear Stella come in. He smelled her, though. That fruity, floral scent that he’d usually associated with impending pleasure was now like a cloud of toxic fog in the air.

An arm wrapped around him from behind, a small hand flattening against his abs. He stiffened, the feel of Stella’s hand on him was—for the first time—unpleasant. Shaking off her hold, he dropped the jeans he was holding onto the duffel and turned to her.

Naked.

Stella was naked.

Fuck!Dios, the woman was built like a compact goddess. Curves, high, plump breasts, bare pussy with swollen, pink lips. There was a reason she’d been his favorite. Unbidden, his cock took notice, thickening—but his heart…it twisted, making bile rise into his throat. This was wrong. She was wrong. His body might respond, but his head knew the truth; the beautiful woman before him wasn’t his Tessa.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed a t-shirt off the clothes pile and threw it at her. Her eyes wide in shock, she caught it.

“Stella, what are you doing?” he demanded, ignoring the way she flinched at his tone. He’d never spoken to one of his Bees like that before, he’d never had cause to. This was new. This Stella, the one who was standing there, bare as the day she was born, had a mercenary gleam in her smoldering eyes.

She dropped the t-shirt, baring her nakedness once more. “I’m disagreeing with your decision to end our contract. The others…they don’t care, they don’t have the same connection that you and I share. Once their gone, you and I can start fresh, a new Hive—”

“Stella,” he warned, angry that the one Bee he thought would be the most understanding was giving him the most trouble. “This is not up for discussion. There will not be another Hive. I’m done with that. And you know why.”

Her lips curling, she huffed, “Tessa? You’re giving up all that you and I have built for one woman, a woman who turned her nose up at us in disgust? Why, Javier? If you don’t want to build a new Hive, I’d be content with just you and me. The two of us together. We’re good together, Papi. We can be happy.”

Where did all of this come from? When he’d first met Stella, she was fresh off a divorce and only looking to indulge in dirty, no-strings sex. When he’d told her his idea about creating a Hive, she’d been on board. She became his first, adamant that she could keep emotions out of the deal.

Apparently, things had changed.

Sighing, Fang stepped back, the back of his legs hitting his bed.

“Look, Stella, you and I had an arrangement. This was never meant to be anything other than what it was. And now…that is over.”

She stared at him, her dark eyes growing colder as he watched.

Finally, she said, “If that’s what you want, I can’t fight you, Fang, but I think you should remember what it is you’ll be giving up.”

Unprepared for what she did next, Fang stood there stunned as Stella kissed him.

After taking a scorching hot shower to force her muscles to relax, Tessa didn’t bother putting on more than a pair of boy shorts and a running bra. She had no one to impress, and she wanted to be comfortable in her forced confinement. Her blow up in the common room was probably club-wide knowledge, and she honestly didn’t give a shit. All of them could go to hell. Those men that she’d trusted with her life, with her best friend’s life, had broken the trust.

They all knew about Fang’s Hive, and they hadn’t done anything to stop him from pursuing her, knowing she’d be about as eager to join in as a she would driving a bamboo skewer into her nailbed. Yeah, she understood the brotherhood mentality, that whatever went on among the brothers stayed among the brothers, but she at least expected them to give her some kind of warning. It was all bullshit.

Over the last three hours, there’d been several visitors, all knocking politely and asking to talk with her. First, it had been Trouble, who’d wanted to apologize for Amelia—like that woman was actually sorry for what she did. Tessa had remained quiet, silently cursing him and that fucking whore. Next, Skathi had come to the door, knocking lightly, calling for Tessa. Trying to entice her to open the door with the lure of fresh-baked butter cookies. Tessa, while starving, hadn’t taken the bait. The door was locked, and it would stay locked until she got a handle on the earth-swallowing hurricane of her emotions. So, she’d ignored a visit from Fae, Hawk, and finally Odin.

Seated in a large dark blue upholstered chair, Tessa curled her legs into her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Desperate for a distraction, she took in the room around her. Fang’s room. It looked just like she expected it to look.

Dark blues and grays, dark wood furniture, a mattress that felt like a cloud, and an area rug covered in navy, gray, and gold geometric shapes. His walls were bare, his windows were covered in long, heavy dark blue drapes that kept out the light no doubt so he could sleep after a long night of boozing and banging.

It was clean, too, almost obsessively so. No dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper, the clothes in his drawers were all folded and situated neatly, his clothes in the closet were hung carefully, and his boots—though some were scuffed to hell—were all lined up like good little black leather soldiers. The man made a mess of her life, but he was meticulous about everything else.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the door open, and someone come in until the sound of the door closing and the click of the lock filled the air.

Startled, she lifted her head and dropped her feet to the floor, immediately angry at the intrusion…and the intruder.

“What the hell, Fang?” she snapped, ignoring how yummy he looked in his black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots, and leather kutte. Cleanly shaven as always, Tessa could see his jaw working in irritation. “What are you doing here? The door was locked.”

Chuckling, he shoved his hands into his pockets and peered down at her, his dark eyes skimming over her. Shit! She forgot she was dressed to decompress, not for visitors. “This is my room, Tessa. I have the key.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes, annoyed that he was right. Itwashis room. But she was the one stuck in it until the Assholes were caught. Standing, she crossed her arms over her chest, belatedly remembering she was only wearing a sports bra. Fang’s gaze dropped to her chest, his eyes darkening with lust—a lust answered by that low-ebbing thrumming of need whenever he was around.

“What do you want, Fang? Your Bees not giving you enough attention, so you decided to come bother the Hive reject?”

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