Page 289 of Branded
“Let me guess,” she muttered, “you’re going to want me to open it from here.”
“Either that or you can tell me the code,” I muttered, keeping her close.
Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but it was better than her trembling from earlier. “You going to escort me to the bathroom, too?” she asked tartly.
I shrugged—which, no lie, had the pleasurable side effect of rubbing her body against mine and, yeah, I was just desperate enough for that to feel really, really good.
Just call me a pervert and be done with it, okay?
“If you need an escort to the bathroom,” I said, ignoring my inner monologue. “I’m there.”
She shook her head. “Right-left-right, 35-12-9.”
“Got it,” I muttered, carrying her to the locker, and also yeah, it wasn’t the smoothest thing to try to open a combination lock while she was in my arms, but I also wasn’t ready to let her go.
And plus, I’d managed to open my locker while making out with my high school girlfriend loads of times.
This wasn’t nearly as hard.
It also had the positive of bringing my lips and nose close to her skin, since I had to look over her shoulder to put in the numbers.
And, oh look, I had to kiss that skin. Yup, had to.
She shivered, relaxed against me.
My tongue flicked out.
The door banged open, causing Jules to go stiff in my arms. And seriously, for fuck’s sake, Matt needed to butt right the fuck out.
“Jules,” Matt said tersely. “I’ll drive you home.”
The lock opened and I shifted Jules enough to tug the metal door wide, to grab out her jacket and purse. I set the jacket gently over her, then placed her purse on top. “I’m taking her,” I announced.
And yes, it was an announcement.
Not necessarily to Jules, because I was guessing she got that already. But it was definitely an announcement to the other man, who was glaring at me, looking like he wanted to rip Jules out of my arms.
I wasn’t going to play tug-a-war with the woman I wanted.
But I also wasn’t going to let Matt put his hands on Jules. Not right then. Not when she was my responsibility, mine to protect.
Something I communicated very clearly with my glare.
Basically, it boiled down to touch her and die.
Matt’s eyes narrowed.
I held his gaze long enough that I braced for a fight.
But then Jules lifted her hand, rested it on my chest. She didn’t speak to me, though. Her words—word—was directed at her boss.
“Matt,” she said softly.
Matt’s glare disengaged from mine, face softening as he looked at Jules.
Then his shoulders hitched up and he sighed before spinning on his heel and disappearing out of the room.
“I didn’t expect you to be a caveman,” Jules muttered when we’d pushed out into the alley, headed to her car. Yes, I knew that she drove a boring little sedan that got great gas mileage. I also knew that she wasn’t a fan of signals, drove with a lead foot, and it was filled with crap—trash, zip-top bags, balls, and general kid junk.
