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“Mm-hmm.” Her nails reach the sleeve of my dress and drag over the seam until she’s brushing her knuckles against my throat. “I play the game for a living. When it comes to my off time, I prefer to be direct. I saw you and I wanted you. I think you want me too.”
I can’t tell if this is happening too fast or at exactly the right pace. I can’t even blame the alcohol; I’m barely buzzed. “You’re forward.”
“Life is too short to be anything but what you truly are. Don’t you think?”
She’s not saying anything I haven’t thought, and recently, but there’s a part of me that still hesitates. Worst of all, I know why I’m hesitating. Wolf. Not even because he’s threatened to bathe the club in the blood of anyone who touches me. There’s a co
No. Damn it, no. I’m not going to let my fucking stalker decide what I will or won’t do.
It still feels a little like a betrayal to lean into Tatiana’s touch. Her smile widens. “You want to get out of here?”
That’s a bad idea. One even I know better than to give in to. I don’t know this woman, and for better or worse, I am who I am. She could lead me right into a trap . . . or I could do the same to her, courtesy of Wolf.
I lick my lips. “Why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?”
Her smile twists as if I’ve disappointed her. “Sure, baby, whatever you want.”
Baby.
It’s a common enough pet name, but something about the way she says it feels almost pointed. I clear my throat. “Don’t call me that.”
Instantly her expression softens. “Oh. Sorry. Of course. Do you have an issue with pet names in general or that one specifically?”
“That one.” More information is on the tip of my tongue, but giving it would once again feels like I’m accepting Wolf’s claim on me. I’m not. Truly, I’m not.
“How about I call you ‘lovely,’ then? You certainly fit the bill.” She finally drops her hand, and I have to stop myself from grabbing her wrist and placing it back on my throat.
“That works,” I manage.
“Perfect. Introduce me to your friends.” She turns and heads to our table, where Michelle and Zayne aren’t even trying to pretend they’re not watching avidly.
I take a step to follow her, and my phone buzzes insistently. I almost ignore it, but I know exactly who’s calling. “I’ll be right there. I have to take this.”
Tatiana glances over her shoulder and winks at me. “Don’t take too long, or I might change my mind about who I’m fucking tonight.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I head to the short hallway that leads to the bathrooms. It’s only mildly quieter here, but I should be able to take the call without screaming. More, it offers the illusion of privacy, and I don’t want Zayne or Michelle asking questions.
Sure enough, it’s Wolf.
He barely waits for me to answer before he starts in. “Not her, baby.”
I turn and look out over the VIP section. It’s filled to the brim tonight, all the booths occupied. Some of the people I saw on my path to this hallway were regulars when I used to come out more, and others are new, but none of them seemed to be paying any attention to me. And none of them were on their phone.
What am I talking about? There’s background sound on my side of the call, not Wolf’s. He’s not here. I don’t know how he knows what’s going on, but he’s not calling me from inside the club.
I clear my throat. “Again, see the point where you don’t own me or my pussy. I’ll fuck who I want.”
“Not her, Ruby.” There’s something in his voice again, another hint of an accent I can’t quite place. It only seems to come out when he’s feeling particularly intense. “If she lays one finger on you, I’ll break it.”
“Wow, you’re downgrading. Cute.” I don’t know why I say it. He’s proven himself to be dangerous, and even if he’s bluffing about killing Rafe, he’s still more than capable of hurting someone like Tatiana. She’s savvy and obviously able to take care of herself, but she’s not in the life. The rules are different for us. “She’s not one of the families.” Though she might be in the life. It’s not like I’d know. I can’t tell if I’m bluffing or being honest. “She’s off-limits.”
“Your rules. Not mine.”
I force myself to power through the instinctive reaction to fold. “And what if I touch her? Are you going to break my fingers? Cut off my tongue?”
He curses, low enough that I can’t pick out the words. When he speaks again, his voice is so cold, I shiver. “You keep testing me, thinking you can get away with anything just because no one’s ever taken you to task. Don’t, baby. You aren’t going to like what happens if you do this.”
“So you keep saying. Prove it.”
“If you hang up on me one more fucking time—”
I hang up. It’s shortsighted and a terrible idea, but I’ve already made a long streak of bad choices. No reason to get smart now.
Plus, there’s a small, horrible part of me that wants to call Wolf’s bluff, to push him into something. No matter what the response is or who’s hurt by it.