Page 14 of A Dark Fall
I wasn’t enjoying it. In fact, I distinctly remember wishing to be rescued at the exact moment he came along and, well, rescued me. I’d feel like a weak, drunk idiot telling him that though, so I bite my lip instead, glancing briefly behind him at Matt.
“I still think it’s an overreaction,” I mumble. “I’m sure there are far worse things going on out there.”
Jake stares at me, mind ticking over, a measure of indecision or confusion on his face. Finally, he turns and strides toward Matt, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Something I can’t hear from where I am. Matt’s eyes close for a moment before he nods, opens them again, and looks at me.
“Listen, Alex, it’s fine. I’ve had too much to drink anyway. I should go. But you stay with your friends, please. And I’m really sorry if I was too forward—really sorry. If you could mention to my mates I’ve gone home, that’d be great,” he says. It’s as if he’s reading from a script.
Jake turns to me with a look on his face that says, “Your move, Doctor.”
Since I don’t really fancy following Matt out into the street for some bizarre show of solidarity, I say nothing. Jake motions to Kev who once again begins pulling Matt off down the hallway away from us. As soon as they turn a corner at the end and leave him and me alone, the freezing hole in the wall begins to heat up. He’s moved so he’s leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, staring at me hard again. I feel a lot of things under that stare.
“Well, that was all a bit unnecessary, don’t you think? Not the best PR for your opening night.”
“Do I look as if I give a fuck about my PR?” he asks, his voice low. It occurs to me it’s the kind of tone he might use in bed, and my face flushes with heat.
No, I suppose he doesn’t look as if he cares about his PR.
“Well, it was still unnecessary,” I say.
He doesn’t respond right away, and for something to do, I skim my hand down over my dress then fiddle with a strand of my hair. He leans up off the wall and stalks toward me, coming too far into my personal space. As though I mean to stop him, I place my hands on his chest, but I don’t put any strength into the movement. His chest is hard and warm under my palms, and I feel it rise and fall quickly with his breath, his heartbeat powerful and fast. He inclines his head, and his stare intensifies. I can’t tell if he’s still angry, turned on, or both.
“I disagree. It was totally necessary,” he says. “And totally your own fucking fault.”
He swears a lot, I’ve noticed. That’s two “fucks” in a brief space of time. Wait a minute—my fault?
“Excuse me? How was any of that my fault?”
“You wanted me to see you with him, didn’t you?” His eyes are narrow and dark again.
I look at him, outraged. He’s unbelievable. He really thinks I was thinking about him when I took Matt to the dance floor. Oh, wait ... I was, wasn’t I?
“Why on earth would I want that?”
“You tell me, Doctor.”
“We were dancing. This is an establishment where people dance, is it not?” I sound like a brat.
“He had his fucking hands all over you, Alex,” he growls.
“Dancing,” I repeat, indignant. Though, he’s right: Matt had his hands all over me. Hands I wished were his instead. It’s not the point though. The point is that Jake has no right to decide who can and can’t have their hands all over me.
“So that’s how you let every guy you’ve just met touch you then?” he asks, the accusation clear in his eye. My cheeks burn from it.
I narrow my eyes on him and go to push past him, away. He stops me by putting one leg between mine and his hand on my waist, pressing me back against the wall. His other hand comes up to rest on the wall above my head as he leans in closer.
“Oh, we’re not done here, Doctor,” he says in that low voice, thick with warning and something else.
I wonder then if this should scare me. Dangerous (sexy) stranger trapping a drunk woman against a wall in the hallway of a noisy nightclub certainly sounds like a government-sponsored video. One about the dangers of drinking and getting separated from your friends while out partying. But I’m not afraid. Perhaps the alcohol has numbed my fear receptors.
“How dare you? And tell me, what on earth has it got to do with you if some guy had his hands all over me? I have literally just met you. These may be your premises, Jake, but I am not your bloody property.”
“Yeah, these are my premises, and you’re lucky that prick left unharmed,” he says. “I watched for a bit before stepping in. It didn’t look to me like you were enjoying it. Not like you were enjoying it with me for example.” There’s a quiet smirk hovering behind his words, and the memory of his hands pulling me into his erection as his wet, fiery mouth explored mine makes my stomach clench tightly.
“You know nothing about me. Or what I enjoy,” I lie, looking away from his stare.
“Okay. So, I got it wrong then, yeah? You were planning on taking him home and fucking him then, were you? Did I mess up your plan?” he snaps.
God, I really could get lost in his eyes. Green pools of heat that seem to burrow straight into my core, warming and softening it. Wait—what did he just say?