The crowd parted for Savage, always a good thing when he was willing to mow everyone down. He slung his arm around Seychelle and pulled her body into his, giving the interloper his killer eyes. He’d earned his reputation and then some.
The biker stood there a moment, then glanced around the bar looking for his buddies. Savage took the time to brush a kiss across Seychelle’s mouth, but he didn’t lose sight of his “rival.” The man had been drinking and he had fallen under Seychelle’s spell. Savage wasn’t so certain he wanted her singing with the band after all.
She tasted too good and he didn’t want to stop kissing her. She felt too good, her body soft and her skin like silk. He’d missed her. He’d been craving her, and he suddenly felt like a man starved. Her voice had gotten not only to him but to other men in the room, and he didn’t like it. He especially didn’t like the fact that she hadn’t really kissed him back.
“Come on, babe, let’s head to the back room. Maestro can come find you when he’s finished. I want you out of this mob.”
She didn’t protest, or really look at him. She was trembling, clearly still very frightened and uncertain of her choice. She was upset, wearing that look of complete devastation, and he had no idea why. She’d come to him, and now she already wanted out. Savage was spoiling for a fight. Too many men surrounding them, wanting his woman, pushing at her, and Seychelle wasn’t falling into his arms. If anything, she was holding herself away from him.
The idiot from the Headed for Hell club with the name Eliminator on the front of his vest, staring at her so hungrily, was about to get his ass handed to him if he didn’t step the fuck out of the way.
Seychelle didn’t move, even when Savage smoothed his hand over her hair. She didn’t look at him, almost as if she hadn’t noticed him.
“Babe.” Savage exerted a little pressure on her back to force her forward.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered, and turned her face up to his.
He stepped behind her, put both arms around her, locking her to him, and walked her straight to the side entrance to the back room. It was a long hallway with a door at the end. He ignored the three side doors along the walls and chose the end one, propelling her inside.
“Babe.” He did his best to keep his voice gentle. “You’re making a commitment to me. To us. That’s what you’re doing.”
She shook her head. “They’re so good. That band is incredibly good. I want to do this, but I don’t know, Savage, I’m very confused. I need more time to think about all this. Your world is very different from mine. I’m tired. I’m just so tired.”
Adrenaline rushed through his body, fear lacing the rage in a deep pool so that it splashed up red and dangerous. He made every effort to push those emotions aside. “You’re done for the night, Seychelle, and if I’d realized what you were doing, I would have gotten you out of there after your first song.”
He tried to keep his voice gentle, but he wasn’t a gentle man. He sounded harsher than he’d intended. His hands held on to her waist, maybe a little tighter than necessary. She felt as if she might escape him at any moment. “Baby, you can’t give away pieces of yourself and take on everyone’s shit like that.”
She squirmed until he released her, taking two steps away from him. “It just happens. I don’t know I’m doing it until it’s too late. I told you, I don’t have control.”
He closed the distance between them. “You can’t do what you just did in there and survive for very long.” He studied her expression. “Fuck.” He spat the word and pulled her closer to him, forcing her up onto her toes. “You already know that, don’t you? You’re not doing that again, do you understand me?”
“I told you, I can’t control it. I do try to protect myself, Savage . . .” She broke off and shrugged, swaying. “I need to sit down.”
He immediately guided her to a chair. He crouched down and tipped up her chin, at the same time gripping her ankle. He ran his thumb up her pale skin. That perfect canvas that now belonged to him. “I’ll tell Maestro you’re not going to take the job.”
Her gaze jumped to his. “You won’t tell them anything. I’m heading home. I’ll think things over and decide for myself.”
“Babe, you know that job’s not right for you.” He really didn’t want her to take it. “Before you get all defiant on me, think about it. When you sing in a bar, does that happen every single time? You trying to help everyone like that? Or just once in a while?”