Page 84 of Running from Drac
I yank it back with a stumble, blinking hard. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Poppy tries to push in front of me protectively, but he doesn’t move.
“I have orders,” he says, tone flat. “Do me a favor and don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I cross my arms, wobbling on my heels. “Fuck you, Behemoth. I’m not going anywhere.”
He sighs, more annoyed than anything, before he grabs me around the waist like I’m nothing, tossing me over his shoulder.
“Amber!” Poppy screams. I see her reach out for me just as two other men appear, blocking the girls from following.
Kicking and thrashing, my fists slam into his back with everything I have left, my stomach threatening to empty its contents down his backside. I swear, if I puke on this man, I hope it burns like fucking acid.
“Put me down, you big ape! Put me down or I’ll sue!”
Who I’m suing? I have no idea, but it sounds good in my drunken brain.
“Where are my friends?” I yell, my voice cracking. “I want my friends!”
He doesn’t answer.
A moment later, he’s pushing me through a door at the side of the stage, leading me into a quieter, darker hallway. The music and chaos fade behind me as the door slams shut.
People backstage pause as he storms through, forcing me into a side room before locking the door.
My fists slam against the metal. “Let me out! Please! I need to go home!”
No answer.
“Goddamn it, don’t lock me in here! I need to leave before…”
Then I hear his voice cut in behind me.
“Leavin’ me so soon, Amber?”
The voice curls around my spine like seductive smoke, blood’s the only thing moving through my body as I freeze.
Slowly, I turn, facing the dark room as Ryder steps out from somewhere in the shadows with a towel draped lazily around his neck, another clinging to his hips, soaked and heavy from the stage’s rain. His chest glistens under the dimlight, droplets trailing over the hard lines of his abs like they belong there.
A lethal grin slowly crawls from one side of his face to the other, dimples appearing like mini grenades.
My stomach drops and clenches at the same time.
“Don’t tell me ya’ve already forgotten me.” He cocks his head to the side, studying my expression with strange fascination.
Swallowing hard, I stutter out, “Y—Your name is Ryder?”
He chuckles, obviously amused. “Did ya forget it already?” He moves closer, water seducing the sharp contours of his jaw. “Bloody hell, that stings a bit. After all the ways ya screamed my name that night… now ya wanna act like ya don’t remember me? That’s alright, love. I like a good game. Just know, when I play, I play to win.” He crowds closer, inching toward my body that feels like a hypnotized moth.
Fuck that Australian drawl. Fuck it right to hell. Simmer down, ovaries, he’s not your man.
But he was… at least forthatnight.
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Heat creeps up my throat, desire flooding me like an aquifer hidden beneath the surface.
“Don’t remember?” he goads, tilting his head. “Let me help.” He closes the distance in two slow steps, gaze never leaving mine. His scent hits me hard… it’s musky... clean… deeply forbidden. His hand finds my hip. “I was on me knees…” he murmurs, hand fitting around my throat as he gently gives it a squeeze. “Cock slidin’ between those perfect thighs, poundin’ into ya till ya back arched so hard I thought it’d snap.”
My breath hitches.
