Page 17 of Hellbent
A second of stillness.
Then he lunges.
And I stumble back, straight into someone’s chest.
Jake.
“C’mon!” he shouts, grabbing my wrist, yanking me away just as chaos explodes.
People start yelling, heads snapping toward the fight, and through the blur of movement I see Damian dodging a wild swing before ramming a knee into the guy’s stomach.
The bartender is shouting. A bouncer pushes through the crowd.
“My bag!” I cry, ripping my wrist from Jake’s grasp.
I sprint for our table, grabbing my shopping bag and our coats, then dart back toward the exit.
Jake snatches the coats from me as we stumble outside, breathless.
The air is cold and sharp, biting at my flushed skin.
Jake looks at me—then bursts into laughter.
Adrenaline surges through me, my pulse hammering with a wild, dizzying thrill, and I laugh too, breathless and invincible.
Back at the clubhouse, no man would have dared to touch me like that. But that had nothing to do with me. It was Billy’s authority that protected me, not my own. I was someone else’s property.
But now?
Now, I stood up for myself. Me.
And fuck, it felt good. It felt like something I could get used to.
Jake grins, stepping in close, wrapping my coat around my shoulders before tugging me forward, his breath warm against my ear.
“You’re fucking awesome, Maxwell.”
Something shifts. His hands linger at my collar, fingers just barely brushing my skin. The space between us tightens—not just physically, but a pull, like gravity, like we both know exactly what’s coming and neither of us wants to stop it. My breath catches, his green eyes flick down to my lips, and for a split second, there’s a choice. A moment to step back, to pretend this tension isn’t real.
But neither of us moves.
Then his lips are on mine.
Hard. Hungry. Hot.
I gasp, hands fisting in his shirt as warmth floods my limbs, his mouth firm and sure, tilting against mine just enough to tease. My fingers find his hair, thick and soft, and I tug.
He groans and I feel it against my lips and deep in my stomach.
Jesus. I forgot what this felt like.
Someone grabs Jake’s collar from behind and yanks him back.
“Let’s go,” Damian grunts, shoving Jake toward the parking lot and pulling his coat out of the bundle in his arms. “I can’t believe you’re fucking out here making out while I’m in there doing all the work.”
Jake laughs, breathless. “You love doing all the work.”
Damian rolls his eyes. “Get in the truck, losers.”
