Page 31 of His Every Move

I wasn’t a coward. I had dealt with creeps before. It came with the territory of my work, the nature of my online presence. I also wasn’t scared of throwing a fist or two. I grew up under the idea that it was bad to back down. I didn’t like allowing other people to have control over me or to talk shit about me. I came from a small town in Iowa where the straight bullies only responded to fists and insults.

But this? This was different.

This was too close. Too dangerous.

“How, uh, what do you mean?” I asked, already stumbling on my words.

“I spoke to someone earlier. A friend of yours. He pointed you out. Said to follow you on your CamStar account. You should thank him. Looks like he’s a good manager.”

Huh, so that’s how he knew.

I chuckled, even though my hackles were still raised. This was uncomfortable. Zack making small talk with some random guy didn’t give him the right to approach me so aggressively. “So? Want to put on a show with me?”

He reached out again. He grabbed my wrist, tried to pull my hand toward his dick.

I stepped back, putting deliberate distance between us. “I appreciate the offer,” I said, keeping my tone even, “but I think I’ll pass.”

Red Velvet didn’t budge. If anything, his smirk widened. “Don’t be shy now. I’m just being friendly.”

My stomach twisted. The room—once filled with nothing but erotic heat—felt smaller now, the air heavier, like it had been stripped of oxygen.

I scanned the room, searching for an escape, for anyone who might step in, but everyone else was too distracted—watching the couple on the mattress, engrossed in their own affairs.

Fuck.

I should have left when I had the chance.

I shouldn’t have even?—

A shadow moved behind me.

Someone pressed close to my back, a solid, heat-radiating wall of muscle and silent power. I glanced over my shoulder.

The leather-masked man.

I melted backward. His scent—dark, masculine, familiar—coiled around me, sending a warm shiver down my spine.

A large, calloused hand came to rest firmly on my hip, not possessive but unmistakably claiming. He pulled me back. I allowed it, enjoying how his bare body fit so perfectly against mine.

My breath caught in my lungs. Any fear or panic I’d been experiencing vanished in thin air.

The shift in the vibe was immediate.

Red Velvet’s smirk faltered. His posture changed, the casual arrogance slipping just slightly as he took in the figure now standing behind me.

My leather-masked hero didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

His presence alone was a warning, radiating dominance and control.

Red Velvet swallowed, flicking his gaze between us. His jaw tightened like he was considering whether or not to push his luck.

I almost wanted him to.

Something in me thrived off the contrast—the way I felt vulnerable and protected at the same time. It sent a sharp, heady thrill through my bloodstream, settling low in my stomach. My cock twitched, and from what I felt against my lower back, it wasn’t just me who was getting turned on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Red Velvet took a slow step back. “Didn’t realize he was taken,” he murmured, raising his hands like he was backing off.

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