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Movement across the room snags my attention, and I look up as the arguing couple from earlier fly into the room in a blur of color. They scream at each other, the girl waving her finger in the guy’s face as she hollers something about being unfaithful at him. He whips his hand back, striking her across the face with a firm backhand. She drops to her knees, instantly subdued, and sobs. Drunk love.

Gunter’s shaking chest jiggles me as he laughs quietly to himself. “About fucking time.”

I move to go to her, check she’s okay, when his arm tightens around me. “Leave it, Ryan. Bitch got what she deserved, disrespecting her man in public like that.”

Anger flashes through me in a hot wave, gone as quickly as it arrived. There’s no point getting mad, no use trying to fight about it when Gunter’s surrounded by half a dozen men who think exactly the same way. I’m outnumbered, and massively under-qualified by their standards to take them on in a battle of morals.

I look across to the girl again as she pushes up to stand. Her hands are shaking as she brings them to her hair, smoothing her ponytail down, and then running her palms over the front of her clothing. Her man’s long gone, clearly not concerned with what he’s done to her. She looks around the room, catching my eye and breaking the contact as her chin drops to her chest. I feel disgusted that in this place, among these people, she needs to feel ashamed. Of what? That her man just hit her? The anger that she should be showing swells within me instead, heating my flesh once more as she starts toward the front door, presumably to go after her guy.

But the feeling quickly washes away when I lock my gaze on to the person who’s walked out of the kitchen—the sexy-as-fuck guy from the Lion who I spoke to not even half an hour ago. My rage subsides to a mixture of lust and panic. I’m relishing the chance to look him over again, to feast my eyes on what my hands only wish to have a chance at, but at the same time I’m silently freaking out because the idiot is walking our way. What the hell?

Did he not get it when I told him to stay away? His sights are on Easy, his expression stern and focused. What the hell does he think he’s doing? His gaze catches mine as I shift around to face him, and the intense look he gives me with those damn brown eyes does nothing short of devour me right where I’m sitting on my boyfriend’s lap.

I fight back a sudden urge to leap off Gunter and tell him we’re through.

Suicide if you did, girl.

Pre-empting things turning to shit like they have so many times before when users have approached Eddie’s inner circle, I pick up the closest empty bottle I can find and hot-foot it toward him. His brow furrows as I approach, only just visible in my peripheral. I daren’t look directly at him for fear of giving away what I’m doing. I have no doubt Gunter’s watching me.

My skin begins to slick as I close the final steps between the mystery guy and myself. Seconds slow to hours.

Our strides cross, my shoulder level with his, and I drop the bottle, right on cue and right on his foot. “I’m so sorry,” I profess for our spectators to hear. As he bends down beside me to retrieve the bottle, I catch a whiff of his scent and my heart stutters; musky cologne, petrol, and wood smoke—an intoxicating combination. God, I hope I can pull this off. “Outside. Now,” I hiss through clenched teeth as he passes me the bottle, straightening up.

His eyes narrow for a fraction of a second, his thumb lingering over mine as I take the bottle from him. He blinks, slowly, and it’s the cue I need that he understands.

My feet kick back into action, carrying me to the kitchen so I can ditch the bottle and hook through the adjoining washroom door to duck out the side of the house. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark, the light from the bonfire in the back yard flashing against the fence intermittently. I step carefully along the narrow space between the wall of the brick house and the fence, doing my best not to stand on any of the junk that litters the lawn and cause a commotion. I’m mere steps from rounding the corner of the building when a large shadow cuts all light from the bonfire, sending the area into black and forcing me to shoot a hand out to the fence to steady myself. The silhouette is as black as night, the features hidden by the backlight of the fire, but my nose tells me without a shade of a doubt who it is.

He smells so damn good.

“Why did you do that?” The sexy stranger steps into the walk space, closing the gap between us to less than an arms length. I itch to reach out and touch him, but cross my arms over my chest instead, pressing the knuckles of my left hand to my lips.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” I ask. “I told you to stay away.”

“Never have liked bein’ told what to do.”

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, turning and slumping against the brick of the house. “You’re suicidal, you know that?”

He chuckles, his face still hidden in the dark. “Was,” he corrects. “Tried that once, didn’t work.”

My chest tightens at his candid admission. I feel hurt that he’d try to do such a thing. Why?

“Tell me,” he asks, moving closer still. “Why do you care so much what I’m doin’?” His legs brushes against mine as he comes to a stop directly before me. “You goin’ to go back and snitch?” In his new position the fire outlines the strong profile of his face.

I lift my hand to touch his jaw, and drop it quickly when I realize what I’m doing. “I’m not a snitch.” I’d never do anything like that to help those bastards.

“How do I know?” He raises his left arm, placing a hand to the wall beside my head, boxing me in.

My eyes roam his inked flesh. “You’ll have to trust me on that one,” I say, quiet and breathy.

Conversation nears to our left, in the back yard. I turn my head to check we aren’t about to have company, my heart picking up speed. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in, placing his lips close to my ear to whisper, “I can’t help but wonder”—his nose caresses the shell of my ear—“if you taste as good as you smell.”

Holy hell. The voices from the yard move away, yet my heart keeps a rapid tempo, my pulse pounding in my temple as I try to decide what the hell I’m supposed to say to that. He saves me the hassle by speaking again.

“Guess I’ll never find out though.” He steps back and the cool night air rushes between us.

I stare him dead in the eye. “Why?”

He smirks, his arm still pinned beside my head. “Come on, darlin’. You’re not that stupid.”

“Because of him,” I mutter to myself. Damn Gunter. Damn myself for sabotaging my chances by choosing to be with man I don’t want. “It’s complicated,” I try to explain. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “I don’t.” His gaze roams my face, lingering on my lips. “You’re a beautiful girl, but obviously not very smart.”

I glare at the guy. As insanely turned on as I am by him, he has no right to pass judgment like that. “Neither are you if that’s your assumption of me.”

His chest shakes with the gentle rumble of his laughter. “So feisty.” He pulls his arm away, stepping full back so he leans on the fence opposite me. “You’ve got a lot of pent up anger in there, huh?” He points his thick finger toward my head. “I got ways for you to burn that off.” The cocky bastard winks at me.

And I blush like a fucking schoolgirl.

Dropping my chin to hide my face behind my hair, I utter out what I hopes sounds like a disgusted, “I bet you do.”

His boots move closer, and he wraps his hand around the side of my neck, using his thumb to lift my face. “You decide to leave that asshole, you come find me, huh?”