Page 106 of Volatile Obsessions

Reaching back, I gripped his wrist and yanked him off the dance floor without any explanations. In my half sensible state, I trudged through the masses in an emotional fog, the palm of my hand aflame at the feel of Roman’s skin beneath my own.

Why the fuck was he here?

How did he find me?

Is this what it had come to? Him stalking me because I wouldn’t give him what he wanted?

Correction, what you both want, commented that little voice in my head.

I almost groaned aloud, frustrated at everything, especially myself. I never should have let him kiss me. Never should have let him put his hands on me. Never should’ve given him that fucking dance either.

I should’ve stood my ground and told Suki to handle it.

But no, the masochist in me wanted another taste, and I gave in.

Twice over.

The span of the club seemed to go on forever until finally the front doors came into view. I picked up the pace, desperate to fill my lungs with fresh air, to put an infinite amount of space between us and end this once and for all. I was literally dragging him, weaving in and out of every person standing between me and some sort of freedom.

The second we made it out into the muggy October night, I yanked Roman across the street without regard for oncoming traffic and whipped him onto the sidewalk with a growl. Chest heaving, I released him with purpose and took several steps back, inhaling heaps of air.

“What? What the fuck do you want?” I questioned, arms flying out in frustration, my gaze colliding with every set of eyes on us.

It seemed we’d enraptured an audience in our hasty exit.

Roman laughed softly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he began advancing on me. “You know what I want.”

Each step forward felt like the ground shook along with it, propelling me backwards on shaky legs until my back hit the stucco exterior of another club.

“I want you,” he gritted out.

“And I’ve already told you no.”

He was on me in seconds flat, looming over me, his face illuminated by the streetlamps around us. Hands falling to my hips, he pressed himself against me as the tip of his nose skated along my jaw.

Fend him off, fend him off, fend him off!

Ridiculously dazed after two point five seconds of contact, I somehow managed to shove his chest and jerk him off me just slightly.

But he was back in double the speed.

The look that awaited me—while satisfied to have me where he wanted me—was also completely serious. “No isn’t really an option.”

I saw red, pure flaming indignant red.

Who the hell did he think he was? How many times did we need to go through this for him to understand?

“You agreed! What part of stay away—”

“EHHH,” he cut me off with this obnoxious buzzer sound, cocking his head to one side. “Don’t come at me with that bullshit again because right now, at this point time, it’s the wrong fucking answer, and you know it damn well.”

He growled that last bit.

So deep and so deliciously malevolent, I actually found myself shivering, drawing that sinister grin across his face.

Feeling victorious, he assessed me closely from head to toe, blue eyes blazing, his breath hot against my cheek. “You know you’re mine, Lux—have been for a while now. Since before that kiss if you want to get technical.”

I rolled my eyes, hoping the darkness would hide the heat building in my cheeks. “I’m not yours, and you seriously need to get over that.”

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