I wasn’t someone she could ignore.

My seat was right next to her, and as I sat down, I made sure to crowd her so much that our bodies touched at the shoulder and legs. There were no hands involved, but even that level sent a ripple down my spine. Lust and desire mixed with the anger and frustration.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” I said with a smile.

Still no response or reaction from her, so I leaned into her. “Lila.”

Being so close, I felt her tense, watched the bob of her throat as she swallowed before she turned to finally look at me.

“Nate.”

Holy fuck. How much had she had to drink before I got there? Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glazed, and the smile on her lips had my cock thumping to life. She was pliable, vulnerable, and more alluring than I’d ever seen before.

I drew in a sharp breath, my jaw clenching to shut it down before anyone noticed. It was a test to keep from fucking pulling her out the back door, shoving her chest into the brick wall, and fucking some sense into her. She was a fucking mark for any guy in there.

“I’m surprised to see you out.”

“Oh, we used to see him here all the time,” Ian said. “Been months, dude. We thought you fell off the face of the earth or something. Finally find yourself a steady girl?”

I let out a laugh. Once upon a time, I’d tried to pick Caroline up. Ian didn’t like it, but somehow we created a bar friendship and I’d often sit with them.

“So, you’re a manwhore? Should have known,” Lila said, clearly, to me, annoyed.

I wanted to correct her. For some reason, I wanted her to understand. I wasn’t a manwhore, but just a man. Relationships were out, but I wasn’t going to live like some celibate monk for the rest of my life. My fucking PTSD made damn fucking sure of that.

She was ignoring me, giving me the cold shoulder.

I leaned into her again. “It was just sex, Delilah. Fucking.”

Her eyes unfocused, face relaxing as her mask slipped.

I glanced around the table, checking to see if anyone was paying attention to us before moving my hand to her leg. First light circles with my thumb, then I added more pressure.

“I don’t want them.”

Nothing. She was reserved, not melting into my touch, and I fucking hated it. I wanted her breath to pick up, her thighs to relax open. I wanted to know I was getting to her, and she refused to play along.

“I need another drink,” she said.

Every muscle froze, my hand tightening on her leg.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” I asked as I glanced down to the lineup of empty glasses in front of her. While she had shut me out, she was still vulnerable to others, and more alcohol was only going to increase her allure to every fucker in the room, myself included.

“Are you my fucking father? No, I didn’t think so. Let me the fuck up so I can get another drink.”

She was defiant, which was a strength I wasn’t sure she understood she possessed. Her nails dug into my arm as she pushed, forcing me to move or cause a scene. Since tipping Caroline off was the last thing I wanted to do, I relented, but looked after her as she walked away.

It was hard to take my eyes off her and return my attention to Caroline and Ian.

“No drink?” Ian asked.

I let out a chuckle, my lip twitching up. “You guys distracted me. Be right back.”

Ian nodded while Caroline leaned into him.

My trek to the bar was an exercise in recognizing Lila in a crowd of women in a dark room. Getting a drink was the perfect excuse to walk right the fuck up to Lila and crowd her, let any fucking bastard who was watching see that she was owned.

And I fucking owned her.

All I had to do was find her.

I was halfway down the length of the bar when movement at the end of the bar caught my attention. She’d somehow gotten a drink and instead of heading back to the table, was heading to the dance floor.

Watching her walk onto the dance floor and start swaying her hips was torture. She was prey, and as she passed by, more than one predator started toward her. All the men there touching her, thinking that because she was there they had some right to be physical with her.

I was going to kill every fucker who even looked at her.

I kept watch as she danced, the liquid in her cup sloshing. Not two minutes passed when some drunk fucker stepped up behind her and pulled her to him.

Hell fucking no.

It was the end of my ability to just watch. I pushed my way through the throng of bodies, slipped past couples grinding so hard together I wasn’t sure they weren’t fucking.

Ten feet away, I saw he was grinding against her and her eyes were closed as he mauled her with his hands.

“Can I cut in?” I managed to say through clenched teeth and the red haze that had taken over.

She opened her eyes and fucking smiled as she bit her lower lip.

“Wait your turn,” the guy said.

Bad idea, because the anger pumped through my veins like a poison, and my patience was gone.

“I’m not asking.”

He must have seen the violence vibrating within me emanating out, because he relented.

“Okay, man, shit, take her,” he said as he shoved her into me.

She gripped my shirt and leaned in, lips parted before pushing off.

“What the fuck was that about?” she asked.

My last fuse was blown. I grabbed onto her arm and dragged her from the dance floor. There was an empty table near the bar, and I stopped.

“You’re letting strange men put their hands all fucking over you!” I said with a snarl.

Every muscle was tight, ready for a fight, and caused my fingers to dig into her arm.

“What the hell do you care, Thorne? Huh?”

Was she fucking kidding me?

“Because you are mi—”

“This guy bothering you, Lila?”

Mine.

Mine.

MINE!

I instantly hated the familiarity to her in the words of whoever interrupted us. The tone was sharp, and he made sure to raise his voice over the music. Average build, above average height, topped off with average looks, and he was taking a stance against me, an unfamiliar male, trying to scare me off.

“Andrew?”

Again, an instantaneous hatred filled me. There was surprise in her voice and the way she looked at him was far too intimate than I was going to allow.

Andrew stared at me, his gaze moving down to Lila’s arm which I clutched harder as our eyes locked. If the blond fucker thought he was going to intimidate me, he was dead fucking wrong. He was a toothpick, and I had nothing to lose so there would be no stopping me from smashing his face into the concrete floors and breaking him.