Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,85
He winks in my direction before grabbing the bottle of whiskey. As the sounds of sex continue at my back, I pray that he pours with a heavy hand. “Are we just going to wait here all night?”
“I’m waiting for someone.”
I thank the bartender when he hands me my fresh glass before turning to my friend. “I can grab an Uber when your friend shows up.”
There’s no way I can stand here and watch what’s going on around me without someone by my side. I might die of embarrassment in the first five minutes, and the thought of someone watching me watch someone else? I shudder, not giving it another thought.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I’m not going to follow you like a horny little dog and watch you make some grown man cry.”
She chuckles, her lips turning up at the edges before she takes a sip of her drink. “You could always get naked and ride his face while I clamp his balls in a vice.”
“The only person that will be seeing her naked cunt is me.”
The voice startles me so much, I knock over my half-empty glass of whiskey, and a rush of thoughts swarm me at once. Will the bartender replace my spilled drink, or am I going to be stuck licking the whiskey from the bar top? Why does my friend look less surprised than me? And more importantly, what is he doing here?
I don’t turn to face him. I can’t. Just the sound of his voice makes my throat threaten to seize, and the tears I felt earlier sitting on the patio of Sarah’s condo come rushing back full force.
“You had something to do with this,” I snap at my friend, a slew of emotions hitting me all at one time, so quickly, I’ll never be able to sort through them all.
“Someone had to help you move things along.” She looks over my shoulder, nodding her head. “Wren. Good to see you.”
Without another word, my traitorous friend walks away, leaving me smelling like fresh meat at the mouth of the lion’s den.
I feel the heat of him against me, but I refuse to turn to face him. Just knowing he’s there is hard enough.
“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, the finger of one hand sliding down my bare arm.
I gasp in shock at the sight of gold glowing from his wrist when he swirls his finger around my white band. Of course he’d choose that, and I imagine the women I’ve seen wearing yellow will be swarming him in a matter of minutes. Just the thought of him talking to someone else in this place makes me want to scream. But that’s irrational, right? I don’t own him anymore than he owns me.
The lie, even unspoken, makes my knees weak.
“I’ve missed you.”
My eyes flutter closed, lips trembling.
“Did you miss me?” His nose is at my neck, the soft breaths moving my hair and tickling my heated skin.
“You lied to me,” I accuse. “I hate liars.”
“And I’ll walk away.” My heart seizes. “If that’s what you want after I explain everything.”
“So talk,” I hiss, jerking my neck away.
“Not here. Put this on.” As if performing a magic trick, I look down to see a yellow band clasped in his hand.
“No.” That band gives him too much power, and I’ve already given him too much of myself.
“You have your safeword,” he reminds me. “Take the band, Whitney.”
I look up, finding the bartender standing in front of me.
“Are you okay?” His eyes dart over my shoulder, to my eyes, and down to the yellow band in Wren’s hand. “This is your choice.”
My mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out, and suddenly I’m too crowded—not just by Wren at my back, but because other people are going to be standing around witnessing my emotional break.
“You’re safe,” the handsome bartender reminds me, kindness filling his eyes.
I nod, letting him know I understand, and I do. I can talk to Wren here with the guarantee that I’ll be safe. I don’t have those assurances if I leave with him, because let’s face it, I want to hear his reasoning, want to listen to his excuses so when I walk away, I can do it fully informed and not second-guessing everything we’ve experienced together.
“You’re sure?” the bartender asks again.
“Yes.” The cool blade of scissors scoop under my band and with a quick snip it falls free.
Wren doesn’t waste a second replacing it with the one in his hands.