Chapter Thirteen
Noah
I watched her like a hawk.Studied her every expression; scrutinized her every move. The man I once was knocked at my skull, slowly slithering back in, bringing the tempting darkness with him.
With every smile, every laugh, every innocent touch from others, the possessive fuck in me grew impatient. Annoyed. Angry.
I saw how the guys looked at her, their leering glances cutting to her skirt whenever she walked past. Just the idea of them having filthy thoughts about her had the beast in me prowling up and down its cage, salivating to tear them all apart.
It’s been years since I felt it so strongly—the urge to protect what’s mine, to possess it. This was precisely what I didn’t want to happen. I knew what it would do to me. It would wake all the demons I couldn’t control. Demons that derailed my life once before. Yet, here I was, watching Sienna through the eyes of the man I used to be. The man whose sins came at a high price. Too high.
I knew the right thing was for me to walk away. To pack my shit, get in my truck and drive as far away from here as possible. Fuck the job. It would be the responsible thing to do. If I was honest with myself, it was theonlything to do. There was no choice. Not for a man like me. But I was a fool if I thought I’d be able to walk away now.
I took a gulp of my beer, still smelling her on the glass, her scent instantly making my dick hard. Jesus. Down in that wine cellar my head was filled with nothing but filthy thoughts and wicked intentions. And the woman who stared back at me with eyes that pleaded for depravity seemed all too eager for me to bend and break her body as I pleased. I wondered if she’d still be so keen to submit if she knew the tiniest sliver of my past? If she knew the pain and heartbreak I had caused because I was a sadistic bastard who craved the sweet taste of sin mixed with dark intentions.
Would she still crave my touch—practically begging for it?
Would she still be so hellbent on seducing me to a point where I could no longer control myself?
The night she stumbled into the cottage, drunk and half-naked, I knew she’d be trouble. I knew the temptation that beamed from her plump, heart-shaped lips would weaken me. The seduction that swirled in her eyes made it impossible for me to continue fighting who I really was.
A man who thrived on control.
A monster who craved to dominate.
A beast who needed to own.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Oakley staring at Sienna from across the crowd. It took a lot for me not to storm over to him, cut his eyes out and shove them up his ass. He might be showered in money and bathed in arrogance cloaked as confidence, but he didn’t fool me one little bit.
Spencer slipped in next to me and leaned against the half-wall. “What’s your story?”
“My story?”
“Yeah, your story.”
“Why would I have a story?”
“Oh, come on.” He shot me a sly grin. “Everyone has a story.”
I rubbed my hands together, wondering if I should take the time to pick my words wisely or try to divert the conversation in a different direction.
“Seriously. You have to have a story.” Spencer lifted a brow, his eyes red and unfocused from drinking too much.
“I uh…” I pressed my lips together. “I used to be a marine.”
“No way. That’s so fucking cool.”
Not if you knew my whole story.
“Why did you leave? You get hurt or something?”
I inhaled deep. “Or something.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I get it. It’s not something you want to talk about.”
“Nope.”Not at all.
“It’s still fucking cool, though. Admirable. Men and women who put their lives in danger like that, fighting for our country—they deserve all the respect, man.” He took a sip of his beer. “All the respect,” he muttered before silence settled between us.