Everything for Her
Page 62

 Alexa Riley

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Paige doesn’t normally drink much, and it makes me smile that she’s letting loose a little tonight.
More people trickle in and it’s not long before I can barely move without bumping into someone. Unlike our other nights out, Paige doesn’t shut down men who talk to us. She talks back and even jokes a little. It’s probably the wine.
“I didn’t know you came here,” someone whispers in my ear, and I turn slightly in my bar stool to see Eric. “I was hoping to see you at Marie’s Yacht Club, but you weren’t there tonight.”
“Wanted to try something different,” I say, turning a little more so I can look at him. It’s hard to hear in the once-quiet bar with all the people and the piano playing.
His hand comes to my hip, and I’m taken aback by the intimate gesture. I’m not sure if it’s because people are pushed in so close and he’s making room, or if he does it on purpose to touch me. I glance over at Paige, who’s talking to a well-dressed man in a suit. She looks over at me as if sensing my eyes on her.
“Want to dance?” Eric asks, but his other hand grabs my other hip, pulling me off the chair before I can respond.
“I’m not sure we should.” I don’t want to cause a scene with the crowd around us, but his grip on my hand is tight. I want to shout the word no but I’m on the dance floor before I have a chance.
He pulls me closer, but my body freezes up when, out of the corner of my eye, I spot two sapphires locked on me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mallory
* * *
Oz stalks over to us, and I’m frozen in place. I don’t even register Eric leaning down and putting his lips on my neck until it’s already happened. I pull back from Eric’s grip instantly, sick from his unwelcome advances.
He gives me a greasy smile and holds me tighter. His Abercrombie good looks contrast with the creepy feeling he’s giving me. I’m about to tell him exactly how to fuck off when a fist comes flying across his face.
For a half a second I think, here we go again, until I see Paige standing over him and shaking out her hand.
“You keep your hands off of her, you spoiled piece of shit.”
Eric lies on the floor, unmoving. She knocked him out cold.
I’m in shock, unable to move. After a heartbeat Paige turns to me and looks me up and down.
“Are you okay, Mal?”
Unable to find my tongue, I nod. A crowd has formed around us, and some guys have come over to check on Eric. As I’m about to speak, Oz breaks through the crowd and comes to me.
I’m in his arms for a second before he’s looking over at Paige. “You okay?”
She shrugs and gives me a half smile.
I hear a commotion behind her and look around Oz to see Eric getting hauled off the floor as Captain yells at Eric’s friends to get him the fuck out of here.
When did he show up?
Oz throws some bills on the bar behind me and turns to give Paige a stare. He doesn’t say anything before taking my hand and pulling me from the place.
Everything happens so fast. One second I was laughing with Paige and the next I’m being dragged away from all the fun, the night ruined by some sleazy guy trying to put his hands on me. Even if Oz hadn’t shown up, Paige knocking Eric out cold might have spoiled our good vibe.
The summer heat hits me as we exit the building, but it’s quickly replaced by the cool air in the back of Oz’s limo. He shuts the door and walks around, climbing in on the other side, and never once have I given him permission to do this.
His scent assaults me, and suddenly the two small glasses of wine I had are making me dizzy with lust. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. He gets in, and the sight of him so close to me makes me weak. God, I hate that I’m not strong enough to tell him no, because if he touches me, I’ll dissolve. Everything I’ve said about waiting and talking and wanting to know the truth will go right out the window. And he knows it.
“Oz.” I stop. I don’t know what I’m going to say. Apologize for sneaking away from him? Beg him to hold me? Beg him not to?
He shakes his head and I stop the words. I know they’re useless when it comes to him. He crooks his finger at me to come to his lap, and like the slave I am, I go.
I crawl onto him, sitting with my legs together and my ass pressed against his erection.
“Did you drink tonight?” he asks, looking down at my mouth.
I nod, knowing his meaning. We’ve had sex. Unprotected sex. And this could very well mean I’m carrying a baby. I know where his train of thought is going, so I try to put him at ease.
“Two small glasses.”
He nods, and then runs his hand down my cheek. “No more. Not until we know for sure.”
His words are whispered in the dark, and if I close my eyes, I can almost pretend I don’t hear them. But I do, and I know that I’ll give him what he wants. Like I always do. I’ve been fighting a losing battle. As much as I pretend to hate how overbearing he can be, a part of me loves it, too. My rational brain tells me all these things aren’t okay, but deep down I know I’m only lying to myself. When I think of all the things he’s done for me, and how he’d do anything and everything to have me, I love it.
His big hands, which could nearly span my waist, rub up and down my back. The air in the limo grows thick with desire. I need to talk to him, but when his hands are on me, I can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone stop the tidal wave of need that is about to crash on me. If he kisses me, I’ll beg him to take me right here on the floor. That’s how much I need him right now. I’ve gone too long, and I’m a drug addict coming off the wagon and looking for a fix.