Instead of bothering with the prick himself, Levi walked over to where Sarah was still standing, her arms crossed over her chest, her body trembling, and pulled her against him, relieved to finally hold her, knowing she was safe.
Levi looked over his shoulder just as Mason said, “Okay, asshole, let’s knock some sense into that hard head of yours. Maybe you’ll understand just how serious we are about you not going near Sarah ever again.”
Mason let go of Dylan, who predictably turned around, throwing the first angry punch in Mason’s direction—which Levi knew his brother was hoping for. Anticipating the assault, Mason stopped it with his forearm and used his other hand to deliver a blow to Dylan’s stomach that had him doubling over before attempting to charge at Mason once again. Stupid move, considering Mason had learned to fight on the mean streets where they’d grown up.
The brawl was on, and there wasn’t a doubt in Levi’s mind that Mason would take care of Sarah’s problem and work Dylan over until he convinced the asshole to stay away. Sarah didn’t need to stay and watch the beatdown, not when she was so visibly shaken. Gently grabbing her arm, he turned her away from the bloodbath about to ensue and led her back inside the bar.
Tara rushed up to him, clearly panicked. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to call 911 or if you wanted to handle the situation yourself, so I didn’t call the police.”
“Perfect,” he said, noticing that someone had cleaned up the shattered glasses from the floor. “Mason is getting rid of the garbage out back, and consider Sarah off work for the rest of the night. I’m taking her home.”
“Of course,” Tara said, understanding in her tone.
Sarah was silent as he
guided her out to his truck, probably still in shock, and remained so on the drive home. He didn’t want to bombard her with questions just yet, not when his own emotions were churning inside of him, ranging from fear of seeing her so vulnerable with yet another weapon threatening her life to anger that anyone dare to try and hurt her, to a rush of possessiveness that had threatened his control like nothing ever before.
They arrived at his place, and she walked through the kitchen to the dining room, still much too quiet and subdued. His entire body felt as though he were going to splinter apart at the thought of nearly losing Sarah, of Dylan either driving off with her or using that blade to prove some kind of deranged point.
“Sarah,” he said just as she reached the dining table.
She turned around, the lost, painful look in her eyes so damned heartbreaking he could barely stand it.
He closed the distance between them and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Are you okay?” he asked gruffly.
“I’m fine,” she said in a barely audible voice. “But I think it’s time for me to go.”
He didn’t have to ask where. He already knew the answer, that nothing had changed and she was following through on her plans to get out of the city. Dread tightened in his chest.
Her eyes filled with tears. “This is what happens when people are around me,” she said in a raspy voice. “I always seem to attract trouble, and you’re such a great guy, you deserve someone who has her life together. You deserve someone so much better than me.”
He could feel her physically pulling away from him, withdrawing. He processed her words, saw the yearning in her eyes that contradicted everything she’d just said, and wondered if her reasons for walking away from him ran much deeper than the excuses she’d just given him.
He trusted what they could have together, what they could build together, but knew that she’d been burned by hopeful relationships before. It was her inability to believe that she was worthy of being loved that was keeping her from staying with him.
“I love you,” he said without hesitation, because if that’s what it took for her to remain right here with him, in his house, in his life, then he was putting every-fucking-thing on the table.
She sucked in a breath, the fear in her eyes unmistakable. “You can’t,” she said in an aching voice.
He held her face in his hands to make sure she couldn’t look away from him. “I can, and I do. I don’t care about your past, Sarah. I only care about us, and a future together.”
She made an inarticulate sound, one that was wrapped up with doubts and denial. Desperation surged through him, along with a possessive emotion he couldn’t contain. Right here, right now, he didn’t want to hold back anything with Sarah. Tomorrow morning, it would be soon enough for them to hash out her fears, because there was no fucking way he was letting her walk out his door without a down and dirty fight. It just wasn’t going to happen.
Threading his fingers into her hair, he brought her mouth to his and kissed her, hard and deep, until she softened beneath the onslaught of his lips and tongue and joined in with her own frantic abandon. She thought this was the last time they’d be together, but he was going to make damn sure it was just the beginning.
Her hands tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, and he let her pull it over his head while yanking hers off, too. As they made their way toward his bedroom, the rest of their clothes were haphazardly removed. Both of them naked, he pressed her down onto his bed, reached for a condom and sheathed himself, then settled between her spread legs.
This wasn’t about foreplay and fun. This was about claiming her, branding her, loving her. It was about stripping things down physically so she’d allow him in emotionally. He wouldn’t accept anything less.
He stroked the head of his cock through her wet folds and pushed into her, just enough that she knew what was about to happen, and that’s all the warning he gave her. The first driving thrust had her crying out in pleasure. The second had the sound of her sweet, unyielding moan echoing in his ears. After that, heat and desire blended together, creating an inferno of need that had them both straining against one another as he drove deeper and deeper inside her.
He didn’t hold her down. Didn’t restrain her hands. He gave her all the freedom she could ever want to touch him, to make her own demands, and strip away all his defenses so there was no doubt in her mind how serious he was about her. About them.
Things turned wild and uncontrolled quickly, and he welcomed her unbridled response, too. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist and raked her fingers down his spine—marking him, based on the sting of pain along his skin. He exhaled on a hiss of breath as need and passion entwined, shoving him closer to the edge.
He delved all ten fingers into her silky hair and tipped her head back. Her lips parted, and her dark, stormy blue eyes latched on to his, exposing her emotions, her desires. “This is where I belong, Sarah,” he said raggedly, slamming his body against hers, again and again. “Right here, with you. Inside you.”
Her expression exposed every one of her vulnerabilities, including her true and honest feelings for him. “Yes,” she whispered, and that one word sent them both free-falling into the sweet depths of exquisite pleasure.