Page 64 of Hearts Held
Her emerald eyes lock onto mine.
Then I move, after my last drop hits my tongue.
Each step pounding with my heartbeat.
Slick malice courses through my veins as silence falls upon the vast room. Nothing else exists.
No music. No corral of voices. As my footsteps march toward her. Fists clenched at my sides.
My nostrils flare as my control wavers.
I stand across from the beauty. Perfectly in my view, no delusion, no deception within my sight. My darling dove is in this gruesome den of sin and gangsters.
Forfuck’s sake.
Her emerald eyes look up at me with a mix of fear and eagerness.
“What are youdoinghere?” I growl between my teeth while keeping my stoic facial expressions, placing my tensed hands within my pockets.
“Why did you keep this party from me? Wanted to keep your girlfriend off my radar?” she retorts with a small feint of passive aggression.
I swallow a chuckle at her increased confidence. I slowly lower my body, catching the hitch in her breath as I whisper in her ear, “I wanted to keep you out of the eyes of my enemies and all to myself.”
Still leaning in toward her, I feel her regain her breath against the side of my neck. I spot Michael’s glance from across the room, his scowl visible from this distance. Clearly Kenneth isn’t providing an engaging conversation.
“I was going to come to your apartment after this bloody gathering, but it appears you couldn’t keep yourself away from me. Or did you want to defy me and see how I would react?” I lean back to see the expression on her face, crimson adorning her cheeks. She appearsembarrassed for a split second but regains her stubbornness.
“What if I came here to find another gangster to be a rival suitor?” Her narrowed eyes sparkle with challenge as she folds her arms across her chest. I maintain eye contact as we stand there for a pregnant pause. Internally I war with myself, denying the temptation peering up—for in my peripheral, I can make out the exaggeration of her curves from the tight brassiere.
I groan.
I raise my eyebrows at her, irritation crawling up my spine.
“So you want to date another gangster?” I tilt my head to the side in question.
“Maybe.” She pulls her shoulders back and stands tall, still stubborn as ever.
“This posturing is adorable, dear, but remember what happened with Dr. Shit Bag?” I call her out then lean in again to whisper into her ear. “I know you feel the pull. The pull between our bodies. No matter whom you date, you will never rid of me. How do I know this? Because you’ve injected yourself into mine and I’m fuckingaddicted.”
Swiftly, before she can make a smart-ass remark, I hoist her over my shoulder as she yelps.
“Put, me, down!” She emphasizes each word by pounding into my back with her fists.
My hand trails down the back of her thigh, fighting the urge to grasp her ass.
“Everett, I swear to God!” Brielle growls at me, her anger thundering with each step I take. Before I can make it halfway out of the vast room, someone dares to grab my arm.
A heavily breathing Biscuit clutches my forearm. “Sir.” He tries to slow his hyperventilating by placing his hands upon his knees. “Sir, Kenneth needs ya. Michael… Michael and him are about to go to blows.”
I cease my pounding steps and stare at the door thirty yards away from me, then sneer, trying to swallow my frustration. “Why can’t he get the situation under control?”
Brielle squirms atop my shoulder and I flex my hold, my hand now grasping her ass. “Biscuit, help me down!” she mutters at him, her hands braced on my lower back. I move to face him, swinging her legs, so Biscuit has to swiftly duck in order to not be kicked in the face.
“Sir.” He peers at me then at Brielle’s dangling body. “Sir, his patience has run thin and now he wants to end the conversation by placing a bullet in Michael’s head.”
I can feel Brielle reaching for Biscuit so I turn the other direction, causing him to duck under her legs again.
“For fuck’s sake,” I state, then, with as much grace as possible, I set Brielle onto the floor. She stands in front of me, a scowl painting her beautiful face. I want to reach out and touch her, to explain what’s going on, but too many people are watching us. I can feel their prying gazes upon us.
