Page 88 of Sinister Intentions

The challenge in her gaze was unmistakable. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew how to get under my skin.

And damn her, it was working.

I took a step forward, ready to tear them apart, but Isabella’s hand on my arm stopped me. “Why are you staring at Nyx as if you want to kill her? Do you know her?” she shouted in my ear.

Nyx? Who the hell was she talking about?

I shrugged her off, my focus entirely on Jemma and her new friend.

She was still draped in his arms, but now, he was whispering something in her ear. She threw her head back laughing, and the guy grinned, his hands sliding lower on her back.

That was it. I’d seen enough.

I closed the distance between us. “Punk,” I growled, my voice barely audible over the pounding music of the next song. “We’re leaving. Now.”

She tilted her chin up, defiance written all over her face. “I don’t think so. I’m having fun. We’re celebrating, right, Jake?”

The guy—Jake, apparently—turned, nodded, and pulled her to his side. “Yeah, man. The lady and I are celebrating my win.”

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth might crack. “The lady,” I spat, “is coming with me.”

Jemma’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to argue, but I’d had enough. In one swift motion, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulled his arm back until I could feel a pop.

Jake screamed and immediately faltered.

I grabbed Jemma and pulled her against me.

She looked back. “Are you nuts?” she slurred, swaying slightly in my arms.

I glared at her, fighting the urge to strangle her right here and there. “Have you been drinking? You’re coming with me.”

She cocked her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t think so.” Then she turned back to the guy. “I need to?—”

“Let’s go. Now.” I dragged her with me without looking back. She struggled against me, and I tightened my grip.

Christ, this woman was going to be the death of me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. But all I could think about was how fucking sexy she looked up there, all wild and untamed. And how much I wanted to tame her.

I barked orders at Michele to grab Isabella. No way in hell was I leaving her behind. But I would have a word with her later. She should’ve known better than getting shitfaced in public…and to top it all, she dragged Jemma into it. Or had it been the opposite and my little punk was the instigator?

I stopped as soon as we’d stepped outside, the night air cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the stuffy heat inside.

I pulled Jemma closer and stared down at her.

She glared back at me. “What?”

I narrowed my eyes, slipped my arm around her waist, pulled her against me, and moved my face closer to hers until our noses touched. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She started fighting my embrace, balled her hands into fists. “Let me go,” she whispered, her words slurring together. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to my friends!”

I repositioned her and trapped her wrists in my grip behind her back. Our last two encounters and one bloody nose were enough for me to learn my lesson.

I tightened my grip on her wrists, pulling her closer. “Oh, you’re so done. The party’s over, Punk.”

She tried to wrench free, nearly kneeing me in the crown jewels, but thankfully missing due to her drunken state. “Fuck you! You don’t own me! And you don’t tell me what I can do.”

That was it. I’d had enough of her bullshit. In one swift motion, I bent down and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

She let out an indignant squeal but recovered immediately and pounded my back. “Put me down, you Neanderthal!”

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