Page 22 of Deadly Obsession

Elias stops in his tracks and slowly turns to face me. His eyes travel down my body.

“No underwear?”

His eyes light up with desire. The same look he gave me in his office at the club, seconds before I kissed him. I catch a small smirk before Elias leads us across the lobby to the restrooms.

He opens the first door and instead of waiting outside like a good guard dog, he tugs me over the threshold.

Wait. This is the men’s restroom.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

One man is at the sink, washing his hands. Two more are at the urinals.

“Get out,” Elias barks at them.

They don’t have to be told twice. The men taking a piss quickly zip up and bypass washing their hands before leaving. The door to one of the stalls opens and a young employee stumbles out, struggling to pull up his pants while he clamors out of the bathroom.

Elias checks the rest of the stalls, then locks the door.

“You have no right,” I yell, planting my hands on my hips.

Elias extends his arm to the row of stalls.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you bring me to the men’s restroom?”

“I’m a big scary man. I wasn’t going to walk into the lady’s room.”

“You could have waited outside, you big oaf!”

“Did you really think I was going to leave you alone again after you ghosted me? Think again, Reine.”

I stomp my foot and cross my arms.

“This is kidnapping!”

“Your best friend asked me to keep you safe.”

Ididhear Noah say that to him. But did she know the mafia boss was going tokidnapme?

Arguing with this stubborn fool is getting me nowhere. And I hate how turned on I am with this alphahole bullshit.

Jesus, what a rollercoaster of emotions I’m experiencing tonight. How can I go from scared and confused to turned on andwilling?

“I refuse to pee while you’re in the same room as me,” I say with a huff. Not to mention I don’t need to pee at all. “Get out. Right now.”

The command is weak, and Elias sees my fight waning. He takes off his jacket and hangs it on a hook on the door. Walking towards me, he smirks while folding up the sleeves of his red dress shirt, exposing his tattooed arms—God, why is a man exposing his forearms so freaking sexy?

Elias lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around my throat.

“You had a lot of champagne huh?”

“Yeah, like three glasses.”

Lie number one. He’s suspicious.

“So... you’re drunk?”