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My fingers curl into his shirt. ‘You don’t get to threaten people over me.’

His jaw flexes. ‘He had his hands on you.’

‘And?’

‘And I didn’t like it.’

My lips twitch with the urge to smile at his jealousy. I tilt my head up, my lips inches from his. ‘You don’t get to decide who touches me.’

His grip shifts. One hand slides higher, settling firmly on my waist, while the other tightens slightly at my neck. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but it’s a claim on me all the same. The pressure feels intoxicating, and I almost dare him tighten his hold more.

‘No,’ he murmurs, his eyes dropping to my mouth. ‘I don’t decide.’ His nose brushes mine. ‘But I do react. You know that. That’s why you did it.’

My heartbeat is out of control now. My body leans into his.

‘Say it,’ he whispers.

‘Say what?’

‘That you wanted me to do that.’

I swallow. I did, and he damn well knows that.

His mouth hovers over mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. He waits, and even though the temptation to close the gap is almost killing me, I don’t break, my stare piercing his as we both wait for the other to make the first move.

‘You look good in black,’ he says quietly after a long moment in which neither of us caves. ‘I enjoy it almost as much as the red.’

My heart is slamming against my ribs.

‘You don’t own me, Ash.’

Something dark flickers through his eyes.

‘No,’ he agrees, and for half a second, I think he’s going to step back. His hand leaves my waist, only to slide down and hook behind my thigh. The world tips. A sharp gasp tears out of me as he lifts me clean off the ground and throws me over his shoulder. The room erupts around us with shouts, laughter, and wolf-whistling.

My hair falls forward, a curtain of red around my face as I pound my fists against his back. ‘Ash! Put me down!’

His arm tightens across the backs of my thighs, locking me in place. His other hand spreads possessively over my ass.

‘I don’t own you?’ he asks evenly, carrying me through the crowd like it’s the most natural thing in the world. ‘I disagree.’

Humiliation burns through me, but underneath the embarrassment, there’s heat pooling through my body like liquid fire. God, I hate how he makes me feel and how much I want him, even after everything. People move out of his way instantly; no one tries to stop him. The night air hits my skin as he steps outside.

‘Put me down,’ I demand again, quieter now.

It’s not until we’re halfway down the driveway, away from the noise, that he lowers me. My heels hit the pavement, but he doesn’t step back. His hands stay on my hips, grounding me in place.

‘You’re insane,’ I breathe.

‘Maybe.’

His thumb brushes just underneath my bottom lip. It comes away slightly red. He looks at it, then back at me.

‘I do enjoy the red more,’ he murmurs.

My stomach flips.

‘You embarrassed me.’