“No, I . . .” I finally dragged my gaze up to match his, and found his eyes furious. “I think maybe I should head home.”
“Yeah?” He moved in so there was no space left between us. “Having regrets about what we did?”
“You mean what you did?” I corrected, and tightened my hold on the railing. Logic told me to shut up and not push him, but I was stupid drunk.
Something dark flared in his expression and he shifted on the stairs, turning his back on the crowd below. It was so he could run his hand under my skirt, up between my thighs, and massage me through my underwear. Right out in the open, where anyone could see, although his broad back blocked most of it from view. I gasped and clutched my cup, making my beer slosh over my hand.
“Are you sore here?” His expression was predatory. “Answer me now.”
I nodded, stunned beyond words.
“Good,” he said. “Every time you feel that ache between your legs, you think of me.”
“Holy shit, Luka,” I whispered. As I pushed his hand away, I glanced around nervously, desperately checking to make sure no one was watching us. They weren’t, but we were far too exposed.
“Go back upstairs. Now.”
His forceful tone was too much. Rather than fall under his spell, it strengthened me. It cleared my head of the drunken fog, and I looked at him critically for the first time. Go back upstairs so he could date rape me again? “No. I’m going home.”
Luka’s shoulders lifted as he drew in a deep breath and appeared to consider my statement. Was he deciding whether he’d let me go or not? “Okay,” he said. “Finish your beer and let’s go.”
“What?”
Oh, he did not like having to repeat himself. His nostrils flared and his eyebrow lifted in annoyance. So I took a long chug of the Lukawarm beer to keep him placated. I hated the taste of beer. As a new twenty-one-year-old, I hadn’t yet acquired the taste for it.
Before I’d finished my gulp, Luka was moving down the stairs, and I felt compelled to follow. I tried to buck against it, but how was it he had this power over me? Was it the fake police officer uniform that gave him false authority?
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, his hand grabbed mine and he laced our fingers together. My heartbeat kicked in response. Not that this was romantic. It was pure dominance. Luka not just staking his claim, but asserting his physical control.
“Find your roommate,” he ordered.
“You don’t have to walk me home,” I said. His hand was a vise on mine.
“I don’t plan to. I’ll text my driver.”
His driver? Well . . . at least that was safe. It’d be warm in the car, and better with an extra person around.
He’d asked me to find Avery, and it turned out to be no small task. During the time Luka and I had been upstairs, it had grown much more crowded. Luka’s grip on my hand kept us connected even as he dragged me through the thick pack of people and thumbed out a text on his phone.
We found Catwoman Avery on the back porch, shivering in the cold while Batman smoked. I pointed her out to Luka and he tugged me along, thrusting me out with him into the cold October air.
“I’m taking Addison home,” Luka announced before we’d reached them.
“You’re what?” Avery giggled incredulously. “Is she throwing up already?” She grinned at Luka, then blinked, surprised. She shot me a look that said she was impressed with the man connected at my side.
“Be quiet,” her boyfriend snapped. “That’s Vasilije’s brother.”
The color slowly drained from her face and left her pale as she stared up at Luka. I’d never seen Avery serious, and her reaction sent ice crawling along my spine. Nothing fazed her. So why had the mere mention of Luka’s family sent her into a tailspin? Her gaze locked onto mine and spoke volumes. Oh, shit. She didn’t usually care about anyone but herself, and yet she was worried about me. My knees went weak. What had I gotten myself into?
It’d been a night of bad decisions, so I made yet another. I slammed the rest of the beer in my cup, hoping it’d make me forget what I’d done.
“Addison, you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
“I’m fine.” It came out less than convincing. I chucked the empty cup in the trash and shivered in the cold air. “He’s not driving.”
“Okay,” Brent said quickly. “You guys have fun. Avery’s hanging out over here tonight, if you guys want to be . . .”
Good lord, was that his way of telling Luka he didn’t need to put a sock on my door?
“Thanks,” Luka said. “Your name is?”
Brent looked nervous, like he wasn’t sure he should hand the information out. “Brent Sherman.”