Rebel Soul

She crosses her arms over her already perky tits, making them even fuller. It’s then I notice every single man at our table—save for Colton—is eating her up with their eyes.

Anger mars my vision. She’s fucking mine. No one else should see her like this. Only me.

I whip my suit jacket off and cover her very exposed body with it. She sputters, “What do you think—”

I pay her no mind as I grip her elbow and drag her away from the table. She stumbles in her tall heels, and I scoop her up into my arms. “Privacy, now!” I grit out, because if I have to see one more of these sorry, most likely married motherfuckers check her out, I might snap.

I know exactly what they see and how it makes them feel. On a scale of one to ten, Stacia is easily a fifty. And the way her glorified leather underwear hug her hips and ass, combined with her creamy, inked skin and ninety percent of her tits on display, she paints a rather alluring package—one every man in that room is imagining unwrapping, myself included, which only pisses me off more.

I know I have no real claim to her, but I want one. I need one. I need this woman to be mine. For this body to be for my eyes, my hands, my mouth…my worship only.

With a small tilt of her head, she points me toward a door I never would’ve noticed on my own. I tow her into what appears to be an office, slamming the door behind us and flicking the lock.

I drop her to her feet and box her against the door with one hand planted beside her head and the other by her waist. “Do…do you know what you fucking do to me?” I moan, well aware of how absolutely crazed I sound.

She blinks back at me with her big, brown, doe eyes, and I snap, lunging for her lips. I show her with my tongue and teeth and pawing hands just what she does to me.

“West,” she whimpers. “You’re gonna get me fired.” Her palms move to my chest, and I tense, sure she’s about to shove me away. So imagine my surprise when she tugs me closer, hitching one of her legs around my hip.

I grind myself into her leather-clad heat. “Good.”

She parts her lips, possibly to argue, but I seize the moment and bite down on her lower lip. She gasps and claws at my chest as the pressure of my teeth toe the line of pleasure and pain. Drawing her lip into my mouth, I suck away the pain.

Stacia’s hands move from my chest to my hair as she lifts her other leg. I palm her ass and pin her to the door. “Do you know?” I ask against her skin.

She shakes her head, her hips still rocking in search of friction and relief for the fire she’s ignited in both of us—hell, probably in every man out there, except Colton. The thought brings my anger right next to my lust in my mind as the two warring emotions duke it out.

“Do you know how it feels to watch other men look at you? To see them lust over you? Do you have any idea how badly I want you?” I spit my questions rapid-fire, never once backing away from her. “Do you know how it makes me feel to see you here, your body on display for other men, when I’m more than willing to take care of you and your every need?”

My words hit their mark, and she shoves me away. “No! No, you don’t get to make me feel bad or guilty or ashamed. I’m doing my best to help my family. They need me. I need money. This is—”

“So help me God, if you say the only way—” I shout, completely uncaring that the entire restaurant is most likely getting a closed-door show.

Stacia glares at me with fire in her eyes, gorgeous chest heaving. But before she can speak, someone knocks on the door. “Open up,” calls a gruff yet commanding voice.

I move Stacia behind me and swing the door open to reveal a mountain of a man and a hummingbird-sized woman. “Wanna explain to me why you’re holed up in my office with my employee?” the big man asks.

Any other day, I’d probably be intimidated. Hell, I probably should be right now. He could easily snap my neck or call the cops…but right now, all bets are off. “First of all, she’s not your anything.”

The petite woman titters as Stacia practically shoves me out of her way. “Buck, Lesli, I am so-so-so sorry for my roommate coming in here and causing such a disturbance. I assure you both it will never happen again.”

“Damn right, it won’t,” I growl. “You won’t be returning.”