Page 26 of Pit Stop

“Dancing with a fucking shifter, Skye? What the hell?” he growls in my ear.

I tuck myself into him as Mav’s knuckles start to crack, the sound loud in my ears. Gods, I hope Red doesn’t shift and kill Mav.

I’m getting dramatic, but still. There’s no way Mav would win in a fight. Not with this guy. I can tell he’s strong, powerful. More so than Maverick. As much as I’d want him to win, I’d never want him hurt. Not because of me.

“He’s mine,” Mav says.

“He marked?” Red asks, and Mav’s hands tighten around me.

“He’s. Mine.”

The way he says that, when he’s been avoiding me all week… It’s confusing as fuck, but I love it, crave it.

Gods, Mav, take me away from here.

Red’s teeth flash in warning, and Mav pushes me behind him, his pack of men sidling up beside us and crowding around him.

His friends, the protectors.

Oh gods, don’t let him die.

Red’s eyes move from the crowd to me, and the corner of his lips quirks up.

“I see. Next time, little Skye.”

He turns and strides from the room, the relief of his absence almost palpable.

When Mav turns toward me, rage fills his face.

“I can smell you,” he says darkly as he grabs my hand and leads me away, down a dark hallway. “You’re fucking wet.”

“That may or may not be pee,” I murmur, trying to be funny, but it falls flat.

“It’s your fucking slick. I know what it smells like, Skye. What it tastes like.”

“Yes, well…” I grumble when Maverick hands a large man a bill and pushes me into a small, dim room.

I blink in the darkness and spin around, facing him.

“What’s this?”

“This is a space where we can talk about how you know Red.”

He says this cuttingly, his chest heaving, his eyes a little wild. I have no idea what’s going on with him, but hell, he looks good.

And he smells even better.

“Just talk?” I ask, hating that I’m too weak to even ask.

He swallows and nods. “Yes.”

“Hm,” I reply and then shove my hands in my pockets, trying to play it cool. It’s hard though when my boxers are soaked through and I feel like I’m going to cum just from looking at him. So damn annoying. I can’t stand it.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his nostrils flaring, and then he’s moving, pushing me up against the wall and grabbing on to my ass. He hefts me up into his arms and drags his nose across my neck. “You smell like sex. That better not be from him. It better be because of me.”

A whimper escapes me. “Oh gods.”

His cock drags against my own and my entire body trembles with pent-up need.

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