Page 76 of Regret

The entire way to the bar the air between them felt thick, suffocating, like both of them had so much to say but no one wanted to say it. Or maybe they didn’t know how to say it, or where to start.

When he parked the car, she was out of it in record time, heading up the stairs to the bar without waiting for him.

Fuck me.

Something told him it was going to be a long night. Especially when he noticed all the motorcycles parked around the bar, then thought about the dress Scarlet was wearing. Back at the house, the dress seemed fucking perfect, showing him everything he wanted to see. Now it seemed way too fucking short, way too tiny, and he really wanted her to cover the hell up.

Hunter walked in and immediately spotted her standing by the bar, slamming down her first shot of something.

Jesus, this definitely was going to be one long-ass night.

He stepped up next to her. “Scarlet, you sure that’s a good idea?”

She glanced at him. “What? Drinking? Are you insane? That’s the perfect fucking idea.”

With two fingers held up, she indicated to the bartender for another round.

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t want any.”

Scarlet groaned. “Oh my God. Are you going to be a stick in the mud tonight?”

“Are you going to be trouble tonight?”

She snorted. “I love trouble.”

“It didn’t seem that way when you were crying in my arms earlier, begging me to protect you.”

Scarlet froze and he immediately regretted saying what he did.

“Scar—”

“Don’t worry, Ace. What happened this morning will never happen again.”

“I didn’t—” But she had walked off before he could finish his sentence. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the counter and looked at the bartender. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

For the next two hours Hunter sat quietly at the bar, never taking his eyes off Scarlet. She had consumed her fair share of shots and drinks, and was dancing to some or other Rihanna song playing on the jukebox.

It was safe to say that all eyes were on her.

There were about thirty men in the bar and it seemed like every last one of them was tearing her clothes off with their eyes. With every passing second, with every sordid glance in her direction, Hunter felt this odd twinge inside his chest.

What was that? He knew he had this weird need to protect her ever since he met her, but this was something different. Something stronger. Something disturbing…something that felt a lot likejealousy. Hunter almost choked just thinking of the word.

To add fuel to the fire, a huge motherfucker with shitkickers and a leather jacket stepped up to Scarlet while she was dancing like a fucking stripper. All she needed was the damn pole. And Hunter was willing to bet the guy standing behind her staring at her ass like it was a piece of meat he wanted to sink his teeth into would be more than willing to serve as the damn pole. Fuck! Now he was just getting angry.

The huge motherfucker placed his hands on Scarlet’s hips, pulling her against him. And Hunter felt like he was about to kill something.

Roughing a hand through his hair, he took deep breaths, trying to get a grip and to not freak the fuck out over the fact that some strange guy was touching Scarlet. After all, she wasn’t his. They played, they fucked, and now it was over. The number one rule he had lived by for the last few years, the rule that kept him levelheaded, and the rule that protected him from making the same mistake twice was now in motion. He couldn’t fuck her again, even if every bone in his body was screaming for him to. It was done. The deal was closed. There would be no more screwing Scarlet—ever.

Tossing back another shot of tequila, Hunter turned around, away from what was happening on the dance floor. Scarlet could do whatever or whoever the fuck she wanted, but he sure as hell did not have to witness it.

About two songs later, the bartender handed him another drink.

“You sure you’re happy with your girl dancing like that with some other guy?” He gestured to the dance floor. Hunter turned around and saw Scarlet dancing with the same big motherfucker, her hands wrapped around his neck, her ass grinding against the guy’s crotch.

Hunter balled his hands into tight fists, wishing he had the right to punch that guy’s face in. The way his hands were on her hips, moving up her sides, brushing against the sides of her breasts…

Jesus Christ. That’s it.

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