Page 67 of Alluring Darkness
Once she’s upright again, I tentatively remove my hands from her hips and hold them a few inches from her body instead. She immediately starts swaying again.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I growl.
Bending down, I slide an arm behind her legs and one behind her back, and then lift her into my arms instead.
“Hey,” she calls. Or rather, she slurs the word. Her head lolls to the side as she looks at the people we pass, and she kicks her legs weakly. “Wait…”
I stalk across the bar and shoulder open the door. The bartender is just straightening from the passenger seat after putting two bottles of water into the cupholders in the middle.
“Leave it open,” I tell him as I close the final distance.
He hurries out of the way. “Again, I’m so sorry. Please accept my sincerest apologies for—”
“Accepted,” I interrupt. “Now, go back inside.”
Without turning to see if he follows my orders, I stop in front of the open door and lower Raina onto the passenger seat. She blinks at the car while I withdraw my arms. I grab the seatbelt and start pulling it out.
But when I begin drawing it across her body, she seems to at last realize where she is because she starts trying to swat my hands away.
“No,” she says while clumsily trying to push my arms back. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Ignoring her, I simply reach across her in an effort to snap the seatbelt shut. But she starts fighting harder, squirming against the seat while trying to slap my hands away from her body.
A frustrated noise tears from my chest. Releasing the seatbelt, I abruptly yank my hand up and grab her chin instead. With a firm grip on it, I force her gaze to mine.
“Keep fighting me, and I’ll put you in the trunk instead,” I warn.
She glares back at me. Or tries to. Because of how drunk she is, she can’t keep that adorably angry expression on her features for more than a second at a time.
Then she throws up her hands and heaves a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”
I release her chin and grab the seatbelt again. This time, she doesn’t fight me, so I manage to snap it in place quickly. Then I slam the door shut.
After rounding the car, I slide into the driver’s seat.
Snatching up one of the water bottles, I shove it into her hands. “Drink.”
“I don’t want water,” she protests.
“You can either drink willingly, or I can force feed it to you. Your choice.”
She once again tries her best to glare at me. Then she scowls down at the bottle in her hands.
“Fucking dictator,” she mutters.
But she twists off the cap and starts drinking. Satisfied that she does what she’s told, I start the car and then make a U-turn. Raina keeps sipping from the bottle while I drive us back to campus.
I flex my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to stop myself from brutally interrogating her on what the fuck she was doing in that bar. We’ve only made it halfway back to campus when my self-control is completely spent.
“What the hell were you doing in that bar?” I demand, still keeping my eyes on the dark road ahead.
“Drinking,” she retorts. Her words are a bit less slurred now. “What else would I be doing?”
“You told me you were going home to your family.”
“I did.”
“So you’d better have one hell of an explanation for why you lied to me about that, or this is going to be a long fucking night for you.”