Page 64 of House of Payne

London is no exception.

“I thought she was just playing a game.” The man’s voice rises towardthe end. “I had no idea she was serious.”

I bare my teeth at him. “And what about the bracelet on her wrist? You know damn well what it means. Or are you fucking blind, too?”

“I…” His face is bright red as I press two fingers to the base of his throat. “I thought it was fake.”

“Bullshit,” I snarl. “You know exactly what it means; you just thought you’d get away with it.”

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. I—”

I throw my hand back and punch him hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, and I punch him again, causing him to double over. Then, I take a step back and kick him hard. As he lays on the floor, cradling his jaw, I realize that I’m in danger of losing control.

All I want to do, after I put his head through the wall repeatedly, is drag him to an alley and take care of him.

My fingers itch with the desire to take out my gun.

It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to give in to my baser urges.

London appears in my field of vision, and there’s a softness in her eyes I don’t like. It makes me want her even more, especially when her long, soft fingers close around my wrist. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”

I yank back my hand and give her a cold look. “Don’t fucking thank me. I wouldn’t have to intervene if you focused on your job instead of prancing around looking like that.”

London lets her hand fall to her side and draws herself up to her full height. “You’re the one who gave me this uniform.”

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about. Every man here wants to fuck you because you have that look on your face.”

London stiffens. “I can’t control what men think, or how theybehave.”

“You can control the look on your face.” My every word drips with disdain. “I’m not here to play hero. Stop baiting the clients and stick to your job.”

London stiffens further. “I’m not baiting the clients—”

“Maybe next time I should just let one of them have their way with you.” My eyes sweep over her carefully. “They’re certainly willing to offer enough.”

London’s eyes narrow as she curls her hands into fists. “Screw you.”

“You’re going to let that bitch talk to you like that?” The man on the floor is glancing between us with a glint in his eyes. “You should let me have her and teach her a lesson. Trust me; I’ll make sure she gets it.”

I pull him to his feet and signal to the nearest security staff. “Get the fuck out of my club while you can still walk.”

He is dragged off, muttering and protesting.

I turn back to London, who’s still looking at me like I did her a favor.

As if I’m not entirely motivated by lust and primal need.

She needs to adjust her expectations fast, or we’re going to have a problem.

“About what I said—”

I hold up a hand, and she trails off. “If you ever speak to me like that again in front of a client, I will have to fuck that attitude out of you, and I won’t stop until you know better.”

London mutters something unintelligible.

I take a step in her direction, and she hesitates but doesn’t move. “I’m not the good guy here, but I am the guy who doesn’t like to share.”