Page 48 of Blindside Sinner

Predatory.Lifeless and locked-in, like a shark.

I follow the bastard’s gaze, and sure enough, there’s his target: a beautiful girl in a hot pink dress. Correction:mybeautiful girl in a hot pink dress.

Popped Collar Douche picks up two drinks from the bar and starts slicing through the crowd toward her without even blinking. I track his progress the whole time.

Monroe, Cassie, and Sloan are completely oblivious as he lurks closer and closer. My fists are tight at my sides and the blood is rushing in my ears, the way it does before the puck drops.

She is shaking her head and smiling at some story Monroe is telling her when the guy finally breaks through the crowd. As I watch, he sets the second drink in front of her, grins broadly, and offers his hand to shake.

That’s when I make my move.

Popped Collar chose to slip through the crowd lowkey; I do the exact fucking opposite. I shoulder and shove people out of my way. They cry out, drinks get spilled, dancers get pissed, but I couldn’t care less. I’m zoned in on one thing and one thing only.

Her.

It doesn’t take me long to reach them. I don’t break my stride. As soon as I’m close enough, I bump Popped Collar out of the way, slide into the booth, and drape an arm around Sloan’s shoulder.

“You mind, buddy? She’s taken.”

Sloan squinches her brow and glares at me. “Excuse me?”

“She doesn’t sound taken,” the idiot says.

I laugh right in his face. “I’ll give you three seconds to get the fuck out of my sight,” I snarl. “I said she’s taken. So beat it.”

He blinks twice, which just makes me laugh again. This isn’t a complex fucking conversation. This is simply me laying down the law.

At my side, Sloan is still too flabbergasted to speak. It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened, especially because it means she’s not protesting that I’ve still got my arm around her shoulders, keeping her close enough that I can smell that infuriatingly seductive jasmine scent she wears. She’s soft and warm against my bare skin. Tempting in all the wrong ways.

I start to count. “Three. Two. One…”

Popped Collar makes a wise choice and disappears until the crowd. When he’s gone, Sloan finally regains her senses and rips away from my touch.

“What the hell was that?” she seethes, eyes wild.

“That was me protecting you from yourself.”

“I don’t need protection, asshole! I’m having fun with my friends.” She nods to Monroe and Cassie, but it doesn’t get thedesired reaction, mostly because they’re both now engrossed in a conversation with Colin and Dixon, who must’ve followed me over to the table when they saw the bloodlust in my eyes.

“Your friends look like they’re having fun with my friends.” I slip back out of the booth and V my fingers, then motion between my eyes and her. “I’ll be watching, baby. Behave yourself.”

Let the games begin.

25

SLOAN

Being the egotistical bastard that he is, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Beck loves watching me watch him. It’s unnerving. That’s annoying in its own right. But I wouldn’t care if I wasn’t so keenly aware of him at all times, which annoys me in a bone-deep way, like nails dragging down the chalkboard of my soul.

Dixon and Colin have gone for more drinks when Cassie slides around to sit beside me. “I don’t know how you lucked into this job, but if I could spend my days gazing at that man—” She nods to Beck. “—I would never sleep.”

“Trust me, Cass: he looks way better from a distance. Up close, some of the luster fades.”

“Does it now?” comes an unwelcome voice.

Just like a rash, he’s back.

I sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be ogling some barely legal coed or whatever?” The bar is full of them tonight, but this is the second time he’s invaded my space.

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