Devil May Care: Boxed Set (27 page)

Read Devil May Care: Boxed Set Online

Authors: Heather West,Lexi Cross,Ada Stone,Ellen Harper,Leah Wilde,Ashley Hall

Chapter Three

 

Olivia

 

 

I could
feel
his eyes on me, following me the whole way. When I got back to the table I put the drinks down and decided that this was all a bit much for the night. Mostly because my body was burning up from the intensity of that guy’s—
Rome’s
—stare. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, much less
him
, but I was wet between the legs. I wanted him, even if I couldn’t let him near me.

 

The last thing I needed was
that
kind of trouble.

 

Leaning towards my friends so that they could hear me, I half shouted, “I’m going to take off!”

 

They both looked over at me surprise written across their features. “What?” Sylvia asked, clearly surprised. She glanced down at her glittering wristwatch. “But it’s still early! We’ve got, like, another quarter of a night to finish!”

 

Lynn nodded in agreement. “Yeah, plus, I’m the one who drove, remember? How are you going to get home? You can’t take the bus this late! Talk about weirdos…”

 

I shook my head. “No, I’m not going to take the bus. I’ve got a voucher for a cab, you know, Drunk Cab? Anyway, I’ll give it a call and you guys can stay here for a while still. No one needs to worry.”

 

My friends shared a look and I suddenly felt bad. I was a total buzzkill, but after all that…intensity with that guy, I had a feeling he wasn’t just going to leave me be tonight. And I didn’t want to deal with that; I didn’t want to risk making a mistake.

 

I knew his kind. Strong, seductive guys with a dangerous streak that made them all the sexier. The kind of guys who threw you down onto the bed hard and stripped off their belts and ripped off your panties and did things to you that—

 

I shook my head, trying desperately to focus on why I
didn’t
want that.

 

Because they love you and leave you,
I thought to myself. The reminder helped to steel my resolve. I wasn’t about to get into another relationship with a jerk, but I also wasn’t about to be some horny biker’s one-night stand.

 

I had principles, damn it.

 

The girls protested, but I eventually convinced them that I was just tired and the music was bugging me. Sylvia didn’t look entirely like she believed me, but she let it slide. Lynn gave me a hug and told me to call or text once I got home to let her know I’d made it safely. I agreed, then told them to have a fun time, but to be safe. Then I left.

 

I had my phone out—ignoring that there were four new texts, all of them from Tom—and called the number of the cab company. I gave them the address and reminded them of my voucher. They promised it would only be about ten minutes, so I decided it would be fine to wait outside.

 

The night air was cool and quiet, a sharp contrast to the wall of vibration and heat that filled the club inside. I was relived to be away from it. I’d had a good time, but I had also had a couple of drinks and didn’t necessarily trust my judgement anymore. That guy, Rome, had looked
way
too good to me, and with my friends nagging me to get back on the dating horse, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I ended up being stupid.

 

Outside was better because it let me breathe a little easier. The cool breeze eased the burning blush that had overtaken my skin and helped to sober me up a little, too.

 

At least I’m not totally trashed,
I thought.

 

I was waiting for the cab when I noticed him. A taller man, slimmer than most of the bikers inside the club, with a close cropped head of dark hair. I couldn’t see much more than that at first, but as he walked closer, stepping out of the shadows, I recognized him. Instantly.

 

Tom.

 

It was like a stone dropping down into my stomach. I felt suddenly awful, and if I was willing to admit it to myself, afraid, too. Not quite terrified yet, but quickly heading in that direction. I wished desperately that the cab would show up, but it was nowhere to be seen. I glanced back towards the club entrance, debating whether or not it was a good idea to go inside. I had almost decided that it was a good idea, when he spoke.

 

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he said calmly, and that was when I started to notice.

 

He was dressed neatly, perfectly, his hair combed back just so, and there was a quiet smile on his face. To the average girl, he looked incredibly attractive and charming. And he could be, but I’d spent enough time with him to know that there was more lurking just beneath the surface than most girls realized.

 

Bad
things lurking.

 

I involuntarily took a step back, but I realized that he was so close now and that even if I turned and flat out run, he’d catch me if he wanted to. Deciding that wouldn’t help my case, I forced myself to stop and hold my ground.

 

“I was just coming out for some fresh air,” I told him, hating how small and afraid my voice suddenly sounded. “My friends are waiting inside, so I’d better head back.”

 

I went to turn and walk quickly away from him, but he stopped me. His hand grabbed my upper arm harshly, hard enough that I knew there’d be a bruise from it tomorrow.

 

“Don’t lie to me, Olivia,” he said, still sounding calm, but now I could catch the hint of rage hiding just beneath the surface.

 

“I’m not—”

 

“I heard you call the cab,” he told me.

 

I paled. He knew I was lying and he knew that no one was waiting for me inside. It was just him and me. I began to shake as I remembered our time together. How perfectly it had started—roses, chocolate, fancy dinners, everything. But then things had begun to change. Little things. Subtle things. He began to buy me clothes, presents, he said, but he was hurt if I didn’t wear them, even though they were things I would never buy for myself. Dresses that he insisted on if he was taking me out. Eventually, he was just picking out my clothes for me. And then he’d be critical about my hair—“not too long, not to short, and maybe a little blonder, don’t you think?”—and then it was my makeup. Soon, it was my job. I’d had to give that up after he insisted we move in together, back when I thought he was the most perfect man alive. Then things deteriorated rapidly. He wouldn’t let me have my phone unless he was there. He checked every call I made, listened in on the ones he could. He told me that I had to cook and clean and told me how he liked it in bed…even when
I
didn’t like it.

 

By the time he hit me the first time, I knew it was over, that it
had
to be over. I left him with only a single note and crashed with Sylvia and her boyfriend for three weeks before I found myself a new job and a new life.

 

Tom had been apologizing ever since, trying to get me back, but he didn’t look very apologetic now. He looked…terrifying.

 

“Why didn’t you return my texts, Olivia?” he asked, still in that eerily calm tone. The tone that was quickly beginning to freak me out.

 

I tried to jerk away from him, but he only held me tighter. I opened my mouth, about to scream, when the door to the club popped open. It was enough to get Tom to pause and I jerked my arm out of his grasp, taking three solid steps backward and away from him. Away from him and directly into the solid chest of a man clearly much bigger than him. I swiveled around to face this new guy and my breath froze in my chest when I realized who it was.

 

Rome.

 

Relief flooded my system—anyone was better than Tom—and I thought maybe now Tom would leave me alone. Maybe he’d go away and I could thank Rome and we could all go back to our lives. I
desperately
wanted to go back to my life.

 

“Is there a problem here?” Rome was asking Tom, but his eyes lingered on my arm, the one Tom had grabbed.

 

“Of course not,” Tom answered smoothly. “I was just talking with my—”

 

“She’s not your girlfriend,” Rome interjected before Tom could even finish, and I once again felt relief. At least he wouldn’t think we were together. At least he wouldn’t just write this off as some lover’s quarrel.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Tom demanded, the calm exterior finally cracking. “She’s my fucking girlfriend, we were having a fucking conversation, and it’s none of
your
fucking business!”

 

I flinched at the quickly rising volume of Tom’s voice, but Rome seemed completely unconcerned. He raised a single, thick eyebrow and said, “She’s not your girlfriend, because she’s
my
fucking wife.”

 

And in that moment, time froze.

 

Wife
?

 

I held my breath, unable to say anything with Tom right there and this big, sexy man the only defense against him. I couldn’t figure out what he was saying, but I didn’t think it was good. Tom wasn’t going to like this.

 

Before anyone could say anything more, I felt his arm slide around my waist. It was intimate, familiar, like he’d known me all his goddamned life and his arm
belonged
there and other places, too. I could feel the strong muscles pressing against my waist, securing me snuggly against his body. Automatically, my arms went out to brace myself against his chest, hands flat against the tight t-shirt he wore beneath the leather jacket. I could feel his strong muscles there, tensed and ready for a fight.

 

Heat flooded me even as I was overwhelmed by confusion. I couldn’t figure out what was going on, why he was doing this, but my body didn’t have the slightest problem being held by him, regardless of my thoughts on the matter.

 

I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say, but I kept silent in the hopes that at least in the realm of all terrible things Tom, Rome’s lie would save my bacon.

 

Chapter Four

 

Rome

 

 

I had her wrapped up in my arm, her warm, pliant body pressed against my chest, her legs falling open slightly at my sudden tug on her, leaving
my
leg to press against her skirt in an attempt to nudge between them. And all I could think was,
What the hell am I doing?

 

The word “wife” seemed to linger in the air, caught on a hot current that kept it floating just between us.

 

The asshole on the other side of Olivia was staring at me with a livid expression. It had been a one of utter surprise and confusion, but when I didn’t back down—and when
she
didn’t correct me—it shifted instantly. Whatever calm, cool exterior he’d been faking shattered into about a thousand pieces, each of them crunching into dust beneath my proverbial boot.

 

I didn’t know who this guy was, but I could guess. Guess by the way Olivia clung to me, even though she had denied me earlier. Guess by the way this guy had been grabbing her arm tightly,
too
tightly. Guess by the way he was shooting daggers at me.

 

Probably an ex-boyfriend, and a jealous one at that.

 

Not that I could blame him. If I’d had and then lost her, I’d have probably gone nuts, too. Her body felt too good pressed against me to think that anyone would be okay with just losing something like that.

 

I ignored the growing desire building and straining against my jeans, focusing instead on the dick who was trying to be menacing.

 

For me, he was failing. For Olivia, he wasn’t.

 

Olivia’s body was tense against me, but I wasn’t sure if it had to do with my holding her or with the fact that this asshole was still standing there, looking livid. I hoped it was the latter. I hadn’t meant to spit out wife, necessarily, just intending to mess with him a little bit and get him off Olivia’s back, but now that my mouth had made decisions for me, I decided that I wasn’t too upset about it.

 

A husband was a lot more permanent and therefore more of a deterrent than a boyfriend might be.

 

The guy looked like he wanted to argue with my statement, but he seemed uncertain. Like he couldn’t decide if I could possibly be telling the truth. Deciding to give him a little more convincing, my hand dipped lower than her waist along her body until it reached her round, firm rear. I half expected Olivia to react by jumping away from me and shoving me, telling me that I was a liar, but she didn’t. She sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t extract herself from my embrace. In fact, I heard a tiny gasp of breath escape between her full, parted lips and knew that at least some small part of her enjoyed my hand as it squeezed her butt.

 

The asshole looked furious, not missing my possessive grab, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he finally turned and stomped off, looking like the perfect picture of a spoiled child denied his favorite toy.

 

And I’ll keep denying you, you cheap bastard.

 

I watched him walk away and Olivia stayed in my arms, letting me grope her rear, until that asshole finally turned a corner and was completely out of sight. That was when she rounded on me, planting her hands against my chest and shoving me back angrily.

 

I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her sudden outrage.

 

“What the hell was
that
?” she demanded, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving in sharp gasps of breath, looking almost like she wasn’t angry at all, but rather caught in the throes of passion.

 

I decided that look would be my goal after this. I’d have to get her into bed and fuck her until her body was flushed and heaving and undulating beneath me, her cheeks a burning crimson as my name slipped from her ruby red lips.

 

Yeah, that was exactly what I was going to have to do to her.

 

Focusing on the conversation at hand, I grinned widely at her. “What, that?” I asked her, teasing. “I think that was called saving you.”

 

For a second, she blanched and I could see her internal struggle: thank me for my efforts or condemn me for just how those efforts manifested.

 

My grin widened.

 

She seemed to decide, because she was angry all over again. I could see her breasts pressing against her button-down shirt, looking every bit inappropriate and tempting. “You didn’t have to say we were
married
!”

 

If she was expecting some sort of apology from me, she wasn’t going to get it. Instead, I reached for her again, my large hand sliding down her curved body, just barely grazing the underside of her breast and slipping lower along her trim waist until I hit the swell of her hips, the perfect size to be hand holds for me.

 

She shivered against my touch, but only for a second. After that, she jerked away from me just as a taxi pulled into the parking lot. She stomped towards it, but I wasn’t letting her get away that easily. Now that I’d touched her, it didn’t seem like I could stop. I needed more. So much more.

 

“What did you ever see in an asshole like that, anyway?” I asked her lightly, waiting for that shock of anger once again.

 

She shot me a dirty look, but didn’t stop walking. Thankfully, heels were keeping her from moving too quickly and I kept up easily. When she didn’t answer me, I reached for her, my grip firm, but careful. I wasn’t interested in hurting her.

 

And I don’t know just how rough she likes it yet.

 

I pulled her around to me again, letting her body slam against my hard chest, her full, perfect tits pressing against me in the worst and best way. Her breathing hitched and her expression shifted instantly, not looking startled or afraid or angry, instead caught in an instant of lust. Her green eyes became hooded, her lips parting slightly as she let out a tiny gasp. Her breath caught, and I could feel her heart beating wildly against her chest, her chest rising and falling against me.

 

It was all too hot, too much, and I couldn’t stop myself from what happened next.

 

I leaned my head down and pressed my lips, hard and insistent, against her mouth. She didn’t miss a beat before her mouth was open, inviting my tongue inside to explore her, her hands reaching up and sliding through my thick hair before either of us knew what was happening. She surrendered herself against me, her knees all but buckling beneath her, prompting me to gather her against me more soundly. My hands held her hips tightly, pressing her against me, and I couldn’t tell if she could feel my hardness pressing against my jeans, but I couldn’t ignore the desire to rub myself against her.

 

All of this seemed to take the span of moments and then she broke the kiss forcefully, shoving me back.

 

I had half a second to catch my breath before she pulled her arm back and whipped it back in a resounding smack against my cheek. It was powerful, but just enough to sting, really. I stared at her, letting the heat radiate through my gaze as we both breathed heavily, willing her to come back to me.

 

But she didn’t. She clung to her anger tightly, forcing herself to turn on her heel and stomp pointedly away from me. She slipped into the cab, not even giving me a second glance as she leaned forward to tell the cabbie where to go.

 

As they drove off, I just laughed a hearty, full laugh.

 

I wasn’t worried. I knew I’d see her again.

 

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