tall on your own two feet, telling me to fuck off by kicking me out and not calling. And it was glorious and tempting, but I’m here now and you don’t have to be scared. You and me, Madison. I am your heart’s destiny and you’re fucking mine. Mine.”
I feel his cock stiffen against my hip as he rumbles deep in his chest. Grabbing me by the arm, he leads me from the room.
“Where are we going?” I ask, surprised at his turn, going from sweetly poetic words I’ll always cherish to growly sexy in a single word.
My heart is pounding, and we don’t even make it to the elevator before he’s kissing me and pulling me into a darkened service corridor. We stumble a little, but Scott finds and pushes me into a small alcove where we’re not visible from down the hallway.
“Scott what are you do—” I start to ask before he cuts me off with a passionate kiss.
“I have to have you. Now,” he growls. “I need you to feel that you are mine . . . inside and out, heart and fucking soul, Madison. That this is our destiny.”
My protests are lost in the rain of kisses on my neck, my desire warring with my sense of decorum. “We can’t do this here.”
“We can. We are,” he grunts out, his eyes frantic. “I promise I’ll be gentle tonight, but right now . . . I can’t.” He presses on my hips, guiding me.
I moan, nodding as I turn around the way he wants and start to hike up my dress. Scott’s hands help me, a whimper slipping from my lips as the cool air touches my ass. Scott kisses the back of my neck, pulling me tight against his body, and I can feel his cock straining inside his tuxedo pants. This is so bad, so dirty, but I want it . . . I want him as much as I want to breathe.
“Hold right there,” Scott rasps, and I hear the sound of a zipper being pulled, a shiver going down my spine as I anticipate feeling him slide his perfect cock inside me.
“Please, Scott. Make me yours.”
Suddenly, there’s a harsh laugh and a golf clap. “Ooh, yes, Scott, take me,” a laughing falsetto says in a porn imitation, and I gasp, spinning around as Scott takes a stumbling step back. Chase stands there with an amused expression on his face. “You really do know how to pick them.”
Scott growls, adjusting my dress so my ass isn’t showing before zipping himself back up. “Chase, get the fuck out of here.”
“Why should I?” Chase asks, his attention on Scott. “I see she isn’t a bartender after all. Just a whore who sees a paycheck in your last name.”
I flinch, my eyes blurring with tears as Chase’s words pierce me to the heart.
Chase looks at me, an ugly smirk on his pretty face. “How much is Scott paying you?”
Before I can say anything, Scott’s fist lashes out, catching Chase by surprise and sending him stumbling into the wall. “Fucker!”
“Scott, no!” I cry, but Chase pushes away from the wall, punching Scott back, and the fight is on. There are no rules, no real intent here other than to vent years of rage built up by their competitiveness. There’s a flurry of fists . . . to Scott’s gut, to Chase’s nose, some so fast I don’t even see where they land.
“Stop it, you two!” I yell as their feet get tangled up with each other and they fall to the floor, turning it into a grappling match. I should be able to do something, considering I’ve broken up plenty of barroom brawls, but these guys are huge and going at it full-throttle, not drunk and sloppy, so I’m reduced to hollering and standing out of range of their fists and feet. “Stop!”
“What the fuck are you two doing?” A voice says, coming out of nowhere.
The sharp hiss pierces through the red haze of fury the two are feeling, and I look to see Olivia hurrying down the hallway, her gown swishing on the carpet.
The brothers roll off each other. Scott has a busted lip and Chase’s nose is bleeding, but it could have been worse. So much worse.
Scott wipes at his lips with the back of his hand and gets up, while Chase is sneering at him, looking pleased even though he’s battered and still on the ground.
“Gotcha,” Chase says, and the realization hits me. Chase didn’t