Page 118 of For the Plot

“And who the fuck are you exactly?”

I rise slowly, my height clearly unexpected when I stand fully and tower over him. He shifts back half a step.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend,” I say, my voice cold steel. “And if you want to finish your night with your teeth intact, I suggest you back the fuck off.”

He glances back at Skye who has a smirk on her face, then back to me. But he doesn’t say anything. Because he knows. And then he walks away.

Skye rises beside me, and I slide my hand to her lower back. She leans into me like it’s instinct. I lean in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“You okay?”

She nods once. But when she looks at me, there’s a fire in her eyes.

“I didn’t know how much I needed that,” she whispers.

I brush my thumb along her waist, possessive. “I meant every word, sweetheart.”

We don’t speak as we step out of the bar, but the second the door swings shut behind us, I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her with me toward the car. She follows easily, her heels clicking on the concrete, her silence loud with expectation.

When we reach the car, I turn her so her back hits the door. Not hard, just enough to make her eyes snap to mine. I brace one hand beside her head and bring the other to her jaw, gripping it just tight enough to hold her still.

“You’re not going home tonight,” I say, voice low. “You’re coming with me.” Her lips part, breath hitching. “If you have an objection, now’s your one chance.”

I watch her closely, daring her to challenge me. She doesn’t. Her pupils dilate, her chin rising slightly like she wants to meet the demand with her own power but her body gives her away. Her thighs press together. Her breath trembles. She wants this.Me.

“Didn’t think so,” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her lower lip. “Now get in.”

The ride back to my penthouse is fast. Charged. She doesn’t look at me, but I feel the energy coiled tight between us like it might detonate. When we step out, I don’t hold her hand, I grip it.

Possessive. Grounded. Mine.

And when the elevator doors close, I don’t wait. I pin her against the mirrored wall with one hand between her shoulder blades and the other gripping her ass.

“You have no idea what seeing him touch you did to me.” She gasps as I press my body to hers, letting her feel the hard line of my cock through my jeans. “I wanted to rip his fucking head off, Skye.”

“Reece…”

“I wanted to take you right there, on that table, in front of everyone. Let him watch you come on my cock and know he never had you like that. Never owned you the way I do.”

Her breath is ragged now, her fingers gripping my shirt.

“You’re mine,” I growl, voice like gravel against her throat. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she whispers.

The elevator dings. I lift her in my arms, one arm around her back, the other under her thighs, and carry her inside. The second the door closes, I slam her against it and kiss her like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. Her legs wrap around me, arms tightening as I rock my hips against her core.

She’s hot. Wet. Already moaning into my mouth like she’s starving.

“I missed you,” she gasps.

“You’re never leaving again,” I snarl, carrying her to the kitchen and setting her on the counter. I push her dress up and freeze.

“No panties?” My tone drops to lethal levels.

Her cheeks flush, but she lifts her chin. “Didn’t think I’d need them.”

“You were right,” I growl, falling to my knees.