Page 25 of Kisses and Warfare

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“Thought I’d gotten rid of you,” I say while clicking my fingers for another beer. The prospect rushes over and places one in my hand.

“You like being treated like a king,” she says, looking over my shoulder, then back to me. “And I am not something you can get rid of like trash, asshole.”

I turn to look to Marcus and see Rochelle’s on his lap, his head is on her shoulder, kissing her neck.

“Sickening, right?” A voice that sends shivers over my body hovers close.

When I turn to Kat, she’s walking away, her ass swinging with each step as she walks to our bar area and sits next to the girls. She talks to them, offering smiles, and treating them well, not like they are dirt beneath her feet.

Standing, I stay behind her. Her back is to me as I lean against the wall watching her. Some of my brothers hover around her as she starts pouring shots from a bottle. They all smile and laugh at something she does or says.

“Blaze, won’t you join us?” one of the girls asks.

It’s the one I slept with.

Fuck! What was her name?

Kat whips her head around and smiles at me. “Yes, won’t you join us?” She pulls her bottom lip in with her teeth, watching me watch her. Pushing away from the wall, I walk until I’m standing behind her. Her smell assaults me, and it takes everything in me to not grab hold and throw her over my shoulder, take her to my room, lift that skirt, and slide straight into her. It would be so fucking fantastic to have her.

Kat’s phone starts ringing as she pours another shot, and she looks at it, ignoring the call before she turns, offering me the shot in her hand. “Remember the last time I was here?”

I do. I kicked her out and rejected her. She was blind rotten drunk, and it took everything in me to do it. I knew then I wanted her, but I couldn’t have her. I was fucked-up from the death of Tanika, and the last thing I needed was another chick fucking with my head. So I let her stay, let her drink, and when she sat on my lap and tried to kiss me, I told her to leave.

I knew making that decision would come back and bite me in the ass, and here she is again, not exactly biting, but it’s bound to come.

Because I want her.

Fuck, do I want her.

But she has a kid.

And I have demons.

We couldn’t work.

Not ever.

So I stay away and refuse her advances. Even though Kat hasn’t made a move on me in a long time.

“I kicked you out.”

“Memories,” she says, lifting her shot and downing it. She stares over my shoulder to where her sister’s still sitting on the lap of Marcus.

“They won’t move for a long time,” I say. I know for sure they will stay where they are all night, locked in each other’s embrace, and shut out from the world around them.

“You won’t care if I hook up with him?” she asks, leaning closer to me, her face inches from mine as she points to one of my guys. Marley, our Enforcer. “He’s cute, and he’s been staring at me since I got here.” Her breath assaults my neck as I turn to look at him, and sure enough, Marley’s staring directly at her. “Maybe I should go talk to him.” She stands, pushes past me, and walks over to where Marley’s sitting. I watch as he sits up straight, and before she reaches him, I’m off, my hand reaches out and wraps around her waist, and I’m picking her up. She laughs, like she knew exactly what I was going to do, as I start carrying her out the back where my room is located. The door is open, so I put her inside and close the door.

“Stay here!” Looking at Kat, her hand goes straight to her hip, and she pops it out.

“I don’t want to. I want to get laid.”

I shake my head and sigh. Who the fuck is this woman? She has no damn filter.

“Stay. Here.”

“No,” she replies. Her hand still defiantly on her hip. She takes a step forward, and before she can get out of the door, I lock it. I can hear her banging on the door and swearing, and I wonder what the fuck I’m doing.Chapter ThirteenKatI hate him.

What the hell is he doing?

And why the hell am I being locked in this fucking room?

My fists bang hard on the door, followed by as many expletives as I can muster, but no one answers. They won’t, of course, because they all do what their president says.

Except me.

Fuck him.

Stepping away from the door, I flick on the light. The room comes into view, and a bed that’s messed up sits in front of me. It’s nothing special, no headboard, just an ensemble with a sheet thrown on top of it with a few pillows.


Tags: T.L. Smith Romance