Page 87 of Ward Willing
Raphael spits blood onto the cream carpet, and I hear Stella gasp. “You need to get your mutt of a brother under control,” he hisses at me before glaring at Orion. His French accent is more pronounced now that he’s been punched.
None of us help him up, though.
When I look at Orion, his expression is amused.
I cross my arms and look down, and it takes me a second to realize that Layla isn’t offering to help him up, either. My gaze shifts to Orion again, who stands there and smirks.
“And you need to keep your hands to yourself,” Orion growls, stepping closer, a vindictive spark in his eyes. “When a lady says no, she means no.”
“Alright,” I grumble. “You should leave before security ushers you out,” I tell Raphael.
He balks. “Your whole family is fucked up; do you know that? I only came here tonight to see it for myself, and I was right.” He pins his angry stare at Orion. “I will be pressing charges.”
“Looking forward to it,” Orion mutters, his lips twitching. “Next time I’ll make sure you leave in an ambulance.”
“The door is that way,” I add, pointing toward the front door.
The man looks around and shakes his head. “Charles Ravage and his crazy fucking kids. My lawyer will be in touch.”
Then, he turns and leaves without a word to Layla, wiping the blood streaming down his nose on his sleeve.
Layla is watching everything unfold with wide eyes. Orion walks over to her with a confident swagger only a Ravage man could muster. He stops right in front of her, and then he cocks his head.
“You’re welcome,” he tells her.
And then he walks off, leaving all of us in a stunned silence.
I immediately search for Zoe to make sure she’s okay, but she’s nowhere to be found. After telling Miles I’ll be right back, I quietly walk through the first floor, checking every room until I find her in the library. She must not have heard me enter, because her back is still to me as she inspects a book in her hand. As I walk around the leather chair, I get a clearer visual of her, and she reaches up to pull something from one of the top shelves. She holds it in front of her face, but I don’t care what it is.
I’m too mesmerized by the backs of her golden thighs.
Her long, slender neck.
The tendrils of hair spilling out of her two braids.
Every hesitation—every iota of self-control—snaps in half when she turns and finds me standing there.
Like she was fucking expecting me.
“Hey,” she says, setting the book down quickly and turning to face me fully.
“You okay?” I ask, gauging the situation.
“I liked how you stood up for Orion back there,” she says, tilting her head slightly.
I take a step closer. And another. Until I’m a few inches from her.
“Don’t change the subject,” I murmur.
“I’m not. It was… hot,” she says slowly. “Do you think Orion will be okay?”
I chuckle darkly. “The Ravage men can be quite possessive. Orion isn’t old enough to have learned self-control. It takes practice.”
Her lips quirk up. “Is that so? Are you saying you’ve learned?”
“I unlearned very quickly when you put on that lingerie earlier, little rebel,” I nearly whisper.
Everything inside of me is throbbing, and theneedto be inside of her is potent.
