Page 75 of Filthy Secret

“A vodka and Sprite,” I say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs before he turns his back to me and begins to make my drink. I don’t look behind me, but I can feel his eyes on my back, knowing he’s watching me. I do not care. He can watch away.

I’m nothing to him. At least, that’s the way he’s making it seem. But I don’t think he truly believes that at all. Grover says things in the heat of passion. He does things out of it as well, but deep down, that man is a good man. I know he is, and so does he.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

ATOMIC

Lifting the bottle to my lips, I hiss as the liquid burns sliding down my throat. This doesn’t go down quite as smoothly as the whiskey in my office, but even if I could go back in there, I drank it all, so it would be pointless.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She walks into the room, doesn’t look around, and heads straight for the bar. I watch as she climbs up on a stool, almost as if she’s done it a million times in her life, which I know for a fact she hasn’t.

I watch as she smiles at the prospect across from her, tilting her head to the side as she orders whatever the fuck she orders. I want to beat his fucking face in just for smiling at her that way. I don’t even know if he’s flirting with her, but I don’t care.

The prospect turns his back to her, makes her drink, then spins around and slides it across the bar, but he doesn’t walk away like he fucking should. He doesn’t wait on anyone else. His focus is on her and her alone. He leans his elbows on the bar, his eyes finding hers, and he has the goddamn audacity to smile at her.

I fucking hate that.

All of it.

I’m the president of this club, and if he thinks he’s going to get patched in, he’s got another thing coming because there is no way in fuck he’s going to become a member of the Dark Horse MC by hitting on my old lady.

Even though she isn’t my woman in the outside world, she is and will always be my old lady when she walks through the door to this clubhouse, and that means she is goddamn fucking off-limits.

Jealousy slides through my veins at the sight of them talking. Just them looking at one another, even if they weren’t saying a fucking word, would be enough, but they’re chatting and smiling.

Ice slides through my veins next.

Fuck this.

I was inside of her less than half an hour ago, my cum is dried on her skin, and her neck is still red from my handprint.

Fuck. This.

Standing up, I sway as I take a single step forward. Then another before I stop. She tosses her hair, laughing as she brings her glass to her lips. She’s gorgeous. Sinking my teeth into the skin at the inside of my cheek, I stay where I am. Watching.

People pass in front of me, then behind me as I watch her. I can’t even concentrate enough to know who is walking around me. I don’t care either. My focus is on one thing and one thing only.

Ryan.

Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. I dip my chin and look down at my feet, then slowly lift my gaze back up to continue to stare at her. I don’t know if she can feel my attention, but she doesn’t act like she does.

I’m not sure how long I stand there. But when she finally turns her head, her eyes find mine, as if she knows I’ve been watching her, and her lips curve up into a grin. That fucking smile sends goddamn fire through my gut.

Electricity flows through me at the sight of her eyes on mine.

The prospect across from her steps backward, dipping his chin in defeat, and then he turns his head before the rest of his body shifts. He moves down to the other end of the bar, likely realizing that the alpha has staked his fucking claim.

Although I didn’t need to. I already have. Ryan will always be mine, even when I don’t want her. She slides off her seat, standing with her drink in her hand. She doesn’t move immediately. This dance, this game, whatever the fuck this is, it’s not going to last much longer if she doesn’t come over here.

And I don’t know why I want her to. Because I’m still fucking pissed, and I keep saying that I don’t want her, but my body will not listen. My body fucking aches for this bitch.

Fucking aches.

I wait for her to walk toward me, but she doesn’t. She stops and turns her body toward the conference room. The place where we hold church. I watch her go, wondering what the fuck she’s doing. Then she stops at the doorway, her eyes find mine, and she jerks her head.