Page 17 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Logan
For the life of me, I cannot imagine what possessed Kasey to wear a corset-like top to a meeting where every soldier in my base would be watching her.
She’s refused to wear professional attire, and I’d accepted her loose-fitting casual clothes as a compromise.
Then, she decides to actually look put together for a change, and that’s what she chooses?
Kasey’s defiance is amusing when we’re alone, but she took it too far at family dinner.
She might’ve been watching me as she slid her cardigan off, but I was watching the entire room of mesmerized soldiers.
My instinct was to throw my jacket over her and drag her out of that room, kicking and screaming, but since that would raise too many questions—not to mention bring even more attention to Kasey—I resisted the urge.
And, of course, when I planned to spend the night with her in my bed, she decided to be social for once.
The last straw was watching my cousin spill his drink on Kasey as an excuse to feel her up, which he made sure I saw—a wry smile on his face the whole time.
I’ll admit that doesn’t justify what I chose to do next, but it sure as hell explains it.
Besides, it’s not like I approached this girl—a twenty-something attention-seeker who was on me the moment I got here.
Her small, satin dress, and really all the dresses the women in this club wear, makes Kasey’s top look painfully modest, but that doesn’t make me feel any better when the soldiers sneak glances at her.
Most of them don’t even bother with subtlety.
So, when this girl—whose name I didn’t hear when she gave it—started dancing on me, I let her.
Her movements are smooth and well-practiced. Her wide hips and slim waist would’ve tempted me any other night, but not tonight.
I force myself to relax and place a lazy hand on the girl’s hip, which prompts her to flash me a sultry grin that I ignore. Instead, I slowly turn my head to watch Kasey.
Her eyes lock on mine, and her expression—curious but otherwise blank—is unchanging.
Kasey isn’t the type for blind rage and jealousy, but I still expected more of a reaction. Maybe a glare or the middle finger, but she only watches.
I can so easily imagine Kasey forcing her way over here, shoving this girl off me, and taking me on in a fight that would end with scratches down my back and hickeys decorating her throat.
But when she doesn’t move, I imagine a worse scenario, where she looks off and ignores me the rest of the night.
When she stands with a conspiratorial smile, the worst scenario of all registers—she’s going to fight fire with fire and dance with one of my soldiers.
I’ll kill him.
In lithe strides, she makes her way to the dance floor.
She doesn’t have to push through the crowd—they part for her.
Kasey doesn’t look away from me as she walks, and the closer she gets, the more sure I am that my worst-case scenario isn’t her plan. She’d have to scan the room for a willing suitor, which she isn’t doing.
After what feels like an eternity, Kasey is within my reach, and the irresistible urge to touch her buzzes through every nerve in my body.
I’m about to reach out and kiss her right here in front of everyone—screw the consequences—but when she stops, it’s not me she gives her attention to.
She leans toward the girl dancing on me, who’s been oblivious to my lack of attention, and says something that I can’t hear over the music.
The girl stops dancing, and I smile.
Kasey threatened her.
My possessive little—
The girl takes Kasey’s hand with a mischievous grin and leads her to the middle of the dance floor.
I can’t remember the last time I was speechless, but as I watch the girl turn her dancing on Kasey, I have absolutely no words.
All I can do is stare.
I’ve been to every strip club my family owns, and there’s not a single show that can compare to the sight of Kasey’s hips swaying playfully with a suggestive smile on her full lips. Her curls bounce with each movement, framing her delicate face. With eyes closed, Kasey loses herself in the music.
Her top—which has been driving me crazy all night—clings to her willowy silhouette, and the whiskey-streaked jeans shape her legs perfectly.
Kasey is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I’d be happy to watch her dance for the rest of my life.
The only issue?
Every single one of my soldiers seems to feel the same way.
Any admiration turns to simmering rage that I don’t attempt to quench.
I snap out of my stupor when the girl leads Kasey to stand on the bartop at the encouraging hollers of half the club. A few other girls climb up to join them, but as far as I’m concerned, only one of them matters.
And I am going to kill her.
One second, I’m holding my whiskey glass. The next, it’s shattered on the floor, and I’m shoving through the crowd.
When I finally get to the bar, I don’t linger.
I grab Kasey’s legs and haul her unceremoniously over my shoulder.
Her shout rivals the music as her chest crashes into my back. I keep a steel hold over her legs as I turn on my heels. There’s no need to push anyone now. I’m given ample space by the curious spectators.
Kasey beats against my back, and I can’t help smiling at the attempt as I pass the line for the bathrooms and head for the office in the back.
Travis, the club manager, stands from his chair at my entrance.
“Out,” I bark, and he practically runs from the room.
I set a red-faced Kasey down, then lock the door.
She’s on me as soon as I turn—and not in the way I’d like.
Faster than I can catch, her hand whips out and smacks me across the face.
“You had no right to do that! Do you have any idea how that made me look?”
I reach a hand to my cheek and brush my fingers across the still-stinging skin in disbelief.
No one has ever slapped me.
If someone asked me an hour ago what I’d do if I were slapped, I wouldn’t say smile .
And yet, that’s exactly what I do.
She’s even more beautiful when she’s angry.
The red hue spreading across her cheeks, the fiery glare burning in her gaze, the rise and fall of her heaving chest. She is passion personified—alive in the most infuriating and fascinating way.
I want to push her.
I want to kiss her.
I want her.
“Trust me, I had a great view of you embarrassing yourself.”
“Embarrassing? I’m not sure that’s the word your soldiers would use. Maybe we should ask them,” she says with a stride toward the door.
My arm snakes around her waist, fingers digging into her hip.
“Don’t you dare.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Was it something I said?”
“You know damn well what it was .”
“Oh right, I did exactly what you did. Only, I didn’t get jealous.”
I use my hold on Kasey to tug her into me, arms locking around her waist to keep her there.
“You want me to admit that I was jealous? That I hated seeing someone else touch you? That the idea of anyone putting their hands on you makes me want to commit mass homicide? Fine. I was jealous .”
Her bravado cracks as she studies me, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
She didn’t expect that.
I didn’t expect that.
But I won’t take it back. After all, it’s accurate, and I’d rather lose an ounce of pride than her. She’s a convenient lay, and losing her means having to find someone else.
“New rule. This is exclusive,” I tell her.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“And I don’t want to be, but I don’t share.”
Her hands shove at my chest. “You touched her first. I don’t do double standards.”
“Then I won’t touch anyone either.”
She doesn’t say anything for several seconds, only stares into my eyes like she’s looking for something. I have no idea what that is, but I meet that gaze and let her look.
I have nothing to hide.
After a long moment, she huffs a resigned sigh. “Well, it might as well replace the tell-no-one rule because that’s out the window.”
“Good enough for me,” I say and seal my lips to hers.
By the time we walk out of that office—claw marks running down my back and hickeys barely hidden by her cardigan—I don’t care who sees us together.
It’s reckless and will almost certainly cause problems for me sooner rather than later, but right now, it doesn’t matter.
Right now, I want the whole world to know that Kasey is mine .