Page 60 of Wild Thing
“Dyllll,” he drunkenly crooned as he staggered over to us. “Where have you been?”
“Out.” She clearly hated this guy by the way she snapped at him. I could understand why.
He swayed and tilted his head, eyes scanning over Dylan’s body, hovering on her breasts. He let out a low whistle.
I wanted to slam my fist into his face.
I cleared my throat, shifted my stance, and tilted my head back.
That got Steven's attention.
“Heyyy, Brax,” Steven drawled, his words slurring. "Didn't see you there."
I gave a curt nod, staying silent. His bleary gaze shifted back to Dylan, dismissing me. “Wanna have a drink?” he slurred, stumbling again.
“No. I’m beat—I’m going up,” Dylan said, turning toward the elevators.
Before she took a step, Steven grabbed her arm and pulled her back by the waist.
“C’mon, Dyl, just one drink. Be a good girl,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with entitlement.
She slapped his hands away. “What the hell, Steven?!”
I’d punched guys for less and this asshole was about to be next. I wasn’t going to let him disrespect Dylan like that.
I stepped in front of Dylan and shoved Steven back.
He stumbled, stunned.
“She said no. Leave it,” I said firmly, towering over him in both size and presence. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
We locked eyes, tension crackling in the air, until reality caught up with him—he probably remembered I was the builder for his multi-millionaire client.
Hands raised in surrender, he staggered toward the lobby bar, but not before throwing a parting shot over his shoulder. “You know where to find me, Dyl.”
I ushered Dylan toward the elevators, eager to leave Steven behind, and jabbed the up arrow. “I fuckin' hate that guy.”
“He’s such a creep,” she muttered. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Why are you apologizing? He’s completely out of line. Does your boss know how inappropriate he is? The way he looks at you, touches you… how the fuck does he still have a job?”
The elevator doors pinged opened, and we stepped inside.
“He’s part of the old school boys' club. He’s untouchable, I guess. He's leaving soon anyway,” Dylan said. "Besides, I can handle jerks like Steven."
“You shouldn’t have to,” I said, trying to rein in my anger. The cunt had killed my erection and the mood.
Dylan's wary eyes tracked me as I pressed the button for the fourteenth floor—then hesitated and pressed twenty-two as well. “I hate seeing you disrespected like that.”
She nodded towards the elevator buttons. “You’re going back to your room?”
“As much as I don’t want to, and trust me, Ireallydon’t—it’s for the best," I paused, struggling. "We’ve had a few drinks, and I don’t want you to do something you might regret tomorrow."
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know this…whatever this is… is wrong, but I-”
“Stop," I closed the space between us, tilting her chin up. "I don’t regret kissing you. As much as I want to fuck your pretty brains out right this second… I also want it to feel right.”
I kissed her again, slow and gentle at first, her lips soft, parting slightly to let my tongue inside. The kiss deepened, our tongues tangling with growing urgency as I pressed her back against the elevator wall.
