Page 32 of The Opponent

I stole a look at Elle and caught her staring at me. Just what I was hoping for. I arched my brows, the corner of my mouth turning up in a smile, and she reacted with a disgusted look.

Darrell’s face was about six inches from hers, and it was killing me inside. I wanted to stomp over there and pull him off of her. I didn’t know Elle well yet, but what I did know of her, I liked. A lot. She was too good for Darrell Hampton to even look at, let alone touch.

“Air hockey’s cool,” I murmured, trying to keep the conversation with Stormi going.

“Do you like anal?”

My head swiveled around, my eyes locking with hers in an instant. Did she just ask me what I thought she asked me? “Do I like anal?”

She smiled and moved closer. “Giving, not receiving. My husband is seventy-three. We have a very open relationship and he loves watching other men fuck me in the ass.”

Jesus. My attempt to make Elle jealous by dancing with another woman was turning into a shitshow.

“I don’t like anal,” I said. “I’m actually saving myself for marriage.”

Both lies, but they’d save me from Stormi and her pervy old husband.

“How old are you?” I asked her.

“Twenty-four.”

Wow. Her marriage to a seventy-three-year-old man had to be about money. I felt a little bit sorry for her, but then I saw Darrell sliding his hand back down to Elle’s ass and I forgot anyone else existed.

She shoved him slightly, just enough to push his hands off of her, then turned and walked away, her back to me. Darrell scoffed and took a flask out of his jacket pocket, taking a sip from it as he headed in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me,” I said to Stormi.

I knew I should go after Elle, but I had to have a word with Darrell first. I wouldn’t let him get away with treating her that way.

“Hey,” I said as I approached him from behind.

He turned.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Ford Barrett, right?”

“Who said you could put your hands all over her?” I demanded.

His smile slid away. “What?”

“Elle. You were grabbing her ass.”

He scoffed. “It was just a dance, man. What can I say? Hands wander.”

My jaw was set in a hard line, my fists clenched at my sides, desperately wanting to level him.

“Your hands better never be within ten feet of her again,” I said in a warning tone.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, she didn’t tell me her ass was spoken for, man. How was I supposed to know?”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to decide how pissed off Mila would be if I got kicked out of this event for fighting.

“Why don’t we step outside?” I asked Darrell.

His eyes widened slightly. “Step outside?Should I bring my dueling pistols?”

“Just your fists.”

People were stopping to watch us now. I knew I should walk away, but I couldn’t.

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