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God help me, Iwantthis. I want this so fucking badly that I forget literally everything else hanging between us. My hands smooth over his chest and slide up around his neck. I feed him soft whimpers of need, desire… longing.
I want this. All the time.
I wanthim.
Demyen breaks the kiss again to catch his breath. For a split second, it almost feels like he’s just as affected by this as I am.But then he presses another kiss to my temple and smirks at Martin. “As I said, Detective: take the fucking hint.”
If Martin was pissed before, he’s straight-upseethingnow. He takes a half-step toward me, like he’s ready to make a grab for me no matter what the risk.
I’d advise him against that. But Demyen is quicker.
He tucks me behind him and steps into Martin’s space until they’re practically nose to nose. At this angle, I’m suddenly acutely aware of how accurate Demyen’s statement is: Ihaveupgraded. By at least a foot and a half.
And, like… five inches in another department. Maybe six.
“Drop the detective act,” Demyen growls, “and I’ll drop the business owner act. I’m saying this to you, man to man: stay the fuck away from Clara Everett.”
Martin puffs up his chest. I almost laugh at the sight. “You can’t keep me away from my daughter! Keep the whore, but I’m taking my daughter!”
If it were physically possible, this whole place would drop twenty degrees with the chilling mask of fury suddenly etched on Demyen’s face. I wouldn’t normally think he’d risk an arrest or charges for attacking a police detective—especially in public.
But right now, it looks like he’s on the verge of redecorating the lounge with Martin’s blood.
He leans in so close, I’m barely able to hear what he snarls. “Listen to me, and listen well because I’m not going to fucking repeat myself. I don’t care if you’re a cop. I don’t care if you’re the goddamned president of the United States. And I sure as shitdon’t care that, some-fucking-how, you’re Willow’s biological sperm donor. If you touch a single hair on that kid’s head…”
I see Bambi slide off her barstool, ready to step in. She looks as concerned about the spidersilk-thin thread tethering Demyen to “legally acceptable” as I am.
“… your own cold case will freeze solid long before they ever find your body. Understood?”
Martin’s knees actually tremble. They actually fuckingtremble. It’s quick and he recovers himself before it’s obvious, but I see it. I see it and Irevelin it. He’s so much shorter than Demyen, he has to practically arch his back just to meet the man’s hard stare.
How on earth did I ever find him remotely attractive?
“Are you threatening me, Mr. Zakrevsky?” Even his voice wavers for a second, which he tries to cover by clearing his throat.
Demyen smiles. It’s the same smile a cat gives a mouse right before the kill. “Oh, no, Martin. I’m not threatening you at all. I’m making a promise.”
“You can’t?—”
“I think you’ll find that I can.” Demyen straightens and says this loud and clear for everyone to hear, now that Bambi is standing next to him with her stylus poised over her tablet. “This is my casino. My house. My rules. Everyone inside these walls is under my protection. Everyone and everything in my home is mine. And if you think you have a good idea of how far I’ll go to protect what’s mine, let me assure you…”
He holds his hand out to me and, when I take it, brings my knuckles to his lips to press a tender kiss there.
“… you have no fucking idea.”
Demyen steers us around a stammering Martin, who is now officially being escorted by casino security to the doors. I don’t get to see or hear Bambi remind Martin about his warrants because Demyen practically carries me out of the casino to his car. The second the valet sees us approaching the main entrance, he scrambles to quickly retrieve the Mustang and whip it around to the curb.
I don’t say a word the whole way, from the bar to the foyer to the car. I don’t know what to say and I have a gut feeling that trying to find the right words will only ruin the moment.
And this is a moment I want to savor, even if it’s all a charade. Because no man, not in my entire life, has ever stood up for me the way Demyen just did against my ex.
And I’ve never felt this good, this…cherished… by someone claiming me as theirs.
It’s a nice change from what I thought I’d always have.
55
DEMYEN
