I made it to the groupie party and Lane parted the way for me with his strong arms. When I didn't move to step in, he reached out and grabbed me. I willingly moved to stand between his legs and looked up in to his hazel eyes. Even just looking at his face, you would be able to tell that Lane was in perfect shape. Each cheekbone was chiseled, and I loved to run my lips across his strong jaw line.
“Were you and the girls over there laughing at me? I’m obviously really uncomfortable right now,” he said, loud enough for everyone around us to hear. Two of the girls huffed and walked away. The first one decided to take her chances and stick around.
“At first,” I responded demurely.
“And now…” he started, and then he ever so subtly ran the back of his hand across one of my hardened nipples. I closed my eyes at the agonizingly amazing feeling of his stimulation. “You’re turned on?”
Because he stated it as a question, I nodded. With the alcohol giving me a bigger voice than I would normally have, I said, “She wants you and she’s working damn hard to get what she wants. But what she doesn't understand is that you want me. That. Is. Sexy.” My hand cupped his jaw and then moved into his hair.
A rumble shook his chest as he moved his face closer to mine. He looked into my eyes—through my eyes—he looked into me, and I saw a change in him. Something was happening between us. Something that there wouldn’t be any coming back from. If I could bottle up that look forever, I would only take it out when I needed the feeling of being wanted in the most devoted way a man could want a woman. The way Lane looked at me proved the feelings he spoke out loud to me when we were alone in our bed every night.
“Not in a bar,” I swore I heard him mumble.
“What?” My voice was raspy and breathless.
“Nothing. It’s just that I really need to take you home now.”
My drunken Lane-fog was painfully blown away when I heard the blonde’s voice directly behind me. “Are you serious?”
“Gemma, why are you still here? Have I shown you any interest?” he questioned through clenched teeth.
I ran my hand up his thighs in a comforting gesture. Damn her for ruining our perfect moment. I didn’t care if we were in a bar. We could have been in a barn, for all I cared. I wanted to know what was on his mind just then when he’d looked at me as if he wanted to burn the image of my face into his memory.
“When are we talking about exactly?” Gemma asked. “Are we talking about the time you were buried so deep—”
“Stop!” he yelled.
I’m not sure why he bothered at that point, because it was pretty clear where she had been going with that. And while the idea of girls lusting over my man was a turn-on, actually hearing the play-by-play of what they obviously once shared seemed to have the opposite effect on my libido.
I turned, and even though I had no intention of leaving, Lane moved quickly to wrap his arms securely around my shoulders. He was still seated on his stool, but he had scooted further to the edge.
“Don’t.” The words brushed past my ear in a soft growl.
“I didn’t plan on it.”
“We had one night, Gemma. If you haven’t noticed, I decided not to come back for more. Hell, I gave you a fake name!”
Gemma looked down at me from her four-inch heels. I took in her wild, blonde hair that should have looked like a rumpled mess but seemed to work perfectly, and her tight perky body that had clearly never birthed children. She seemed exactly like the type of girl Lane should be with. But he’d obviously had her and he didn't stick around for more. She sized me up slowly, from my flat shoes to my large breasts, before stopping at my face.
“You’d rather leave with her? You’d rather sleep with her instead of me?” The ugliness in her voice bled through her entire demeanor, and the beautiful blonde standing in front of us didn’t appear so alluring to me anymore. Maybe Lane had seen that side of her as well. “I know you, Lane.”
“The hell you do,” he interrupted.
She smiled through her bright red lips. “I do. You like pretty faces. Trust me, you’d be distracted all night by that god-awful scar.”
Oh, hell no. There went any remaining warm and fuzzy buzz I had hoped to keep. Damn her again. I didn’t even get a chance to react because the instant the word ‘scar’ left her blood red lips, it seemed as if the bar erupted.
I was suddenly moved to the side with a gentle but demanding force. Lane’s large figure stood so fast he was practically a large blur blowing past me. He came to a stop directly in front of Gemma and leered down at her.
“What the hell did you just say?” he growled through his teeth. His fists clenched tightly to his sides until they were a pale white color. I put my hand on his back, but it only caused a tremor to rock through his tense muscles. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that. I love that scar.”
Gemma stood with her mouth agape. “I… I… I…” she stuttered, clearly shocked at his forceful reaction.
Jace moved in quickly and placed his hand on Lane’s chest. I could tell he was subtly trying to move him back, but Lane wasn’t having that. Audrey dipped under Jace’s arm and squeezed in between the two big guys.
“Why am I having to ask you to leave… again?” Audrey tried to sound nonchalant, but I could hear the anger that she was trying to withhold.
Gemma glanced once again at Lane’s face and wisely decided to step away, although I really doubted she felt any remorse for her words. It was that thought that brought the catty side out in me. I couldn’t help it—I swore I wasn’t usually like that.
“Hate to break it you, but he’s been sleeping with me every night for a month. So while you get off in your bed alone over one measly night you had with him, I get the real thing, night after night,” I announced. She sneered at me and continued to move away. “And let me tell you, he’s never distracted.”
After I watched her move through the crowded bar and then out the double doors, I finally let myself turn and face Lane. Jace pounded his back and moved away, while Audrey looked at him with worried eyes. When Jace tugged her along with him, she shot me a nervous look in her retreat. I smiled at her, hoping to reassure her that I could handle this. After all, he was mine to handle.
Lane’s hands were still balled up tightly and his eyes were squeezed into thin little slits. A crinkle marred the corners of his beautiful eyes and his plump lips were pursed tightly. I reached up and gently ran my fingers over the signs of stress streaking across his face. I didn't say a word—I wanted him to speak first. I continued to run my hands across his jaw, over his cheeks, and into his hair. Over and over. Finally, I felt the tension begin to subside.
His first words surprised me. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” I grabbed a hold of his shirt and jerked to show my bewilderment.
“I shouldn't have been with girls like her. Why the fuck was I wasting my time with bitches like that?” He seemed to be talking to himself, but I decided to answer anyway.
“So you could save the real stuff for me?” I laughed. It was meant to be a joke to break the heavy tension, something to bring him out of his mood.
He finally looked down at me and grabbed a hold of my face. The brown of his eyes glowed into an outer green ring so bright that it was almost hypnotizing.
When I felt his fingers brush lightly across my scar, I closed my eyes. Why did everything have to go back to that horrid thing? “She tried to make this ugly.” His voice caught, and I could hear the real pain in his words.
“Well, it kind of is.”
“Stop.”
“I just want to forget that thing is even there.”