“You belong here.”
He says the words matter-of-factly, as if it’s written in stone somewhere. His arms are crossed at his chest, daring me to argue.
“Really?” I look around, not sure how to respond to that.
“If you don’t like something here, change it,” he shrugs.
Those words definitely set off warning bells. Lots of them.
“Why would I change it? I’m not staying.”
“You are,” he argues, not changing his stance even a little.
“Now, you’re insane. I have a life in Kentucky, Luke.”
“We’re not that far from Kentucky. You can visit.”
“I can… Are you insane?”
“If I am, you’ve made me that way,” he says with a shrug.
“Uh…wrong. We barely know each other. You just showed up all stalkerish. Which is another thing we need to discuss. You hid the fact you were in a club, and you show up unexpectedly not once, but twice. Just what are you up to, Luke?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he replies, but he shifts on his feet and something about that doesn’t seem right either.
There’s a lot to take in with Luke and none of it is truly adding up. Which means…
He’s lying.
I don’t know how I know. I just do. So, I call him on it.
“Bullshit. You’re lying. You were following me. Am I getting in the middle of some club war? Is that why you kidnapped me?”
He blinks, face exposing his shock and then he shakes his head.
“You’re not part of a club war, Red. How could you be? You’re not even part of a club, you’re just friends with someone that is, and damn it, you aren’t kidnapped.”
“Fine, then, I’m going home—”
“But you’re not leaving either,” he says, interrupting me, and I look at him like he’s crazy.
“You can’t keep me here against my will, Luke.”
“It won’t be against your will. We both know that, Jasmine. You want me.”
“Is this your idea of dating a girl? Take her out, ignore her, and then show up three days later like a reject from the Tarzan movie and all, Me, Grunt. You Jasmine. You mine, shit?” I yell.
I’m really starting to hate the way he makes me feel like I’m always screeching. I am not that person. I’m usually cold and detached. It’s a finely-honed trait that took me years to master. My mother hates it and my father is right there with her. Yet, Luke manages to make me sound hysterical at the drop of a hat.
“That’s it,” he growls, walking over to me so purposely, my heart begins beating double time. I back up, out of self-preservation.
I stop when my legs hit the back of the couch.
“What…what are you doing?” I sputter.
“Making sure you remember my fucking name,” he barks, and before I can respond, he moves his hand behind my neck, holding my head prisoner, so that it’s impossible to move. Then, his lips crush mine, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and taking over every instinct I have of survival, leaving me wanting nothing more…than more of him.11GruntThere’s only so much a man can stand. Watching Jasmine standing there, giving me hell, not scared, not cowering, but blasting my ass, is a turn on that I can’t even begin to explain. I’m the muscle behind the Demon Chasers. I can be fucking intimidating and I’m used to people falling in line with what I want.
Not my Red.
She wants to bust my balls constantly and maybe that shouldn’t make my dick hard, but it does. She’s smart too. There’s no fucking denying that. She’s too close to the truth when it comes to how we met. I want to be able to tell her the truth, but I can’t. I’m not dumb.
Just horny.
So, I give into the only option I have.
Fuck her stupid.
I wrap her hair around my hand, the feel of it reminds me of silk. I tug it roughly, making her gasp and then I kiss her with desire and more than a little anger. Most women would hate it, but my Red, she’s not most women. She’s right here with me, her tongue fighting for domination that I will never let it have. We kiss like we’re going to war, and fuck, maybe we are. Our lips clash so hard, our kiss so intense, I swear I can taste the coppery flavor of blood mixed in. Which is possible, since teeth are definitely involved. My Red is a wildcat.
We break apart and she just stares at me, her breathing as ragged as mine, her eyes shooting fire.
“Take those fucking shorts off, Red,” I bark, my voice dark and demanding control.
“Take your pants off,” she counters.
“That’s not the way we play this, baby. You can give me hell anytime you want, but in this, I’m in control.”
“Only if I give it to you,” she says, stubborn to the end.
“You either give it to me, or I’ll take you home. There’s no in between with me Jasmine.”