That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(73)



“Vi!” Tanner snaps out of nowhere. “I’m bloody grateful Hayden was there tonight. That scene was rubbish and scary as f*ck! I for one am glad you have him. Just stop with the independent woman, feminist shite and say thank you to your bloke for defending you the way he did. It could have been so much worse.”

Tanner’s outburst stuns me. He rarely gets ruffled feathers and holy shit are his feathers ever ruffled right now.

“I am thankful you were there, Hayden,” I whisper to him. He still hasn’t looked at me. I want him to understand, though, that I don’t have to be taken care of all the time or scolded like a child. My independence is important to me. But he looks like he’s warring over something bigger than the pub skirmish. I want to push this issue, but I need him to come back to me first. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. He still won’t look at me and the lower part of his jaw shifts as if he’s in pain. I grab his hand and twine my fingers with his. His shoulders drop and finally, he turns his glossy eyes to me. “I’m really sorry.”

The anxiety and fear-stricken look on Hayden’s face right now makes me feel ill. I rub the back of my fingers down his cheek and he exhales a breath he’s been holding for miles. He leans into me and rubs his nose on my temple, sucking in a shaky breath. The touch feels important. Like he’s telling himself that it’s okay for him to care about me.

After a few moments of driving in silence as we all sit and stew about just how bad that could have been, Tanner lightens the mood.

“Think you might have lost some fans tonight, bro.”

We all burst out laughing, and I glance over and see the corners of Hayden’s mouth turn up. Eventually, we pull up to our dad’s Chigwell house. My brothers each give Hayden a matey pat on the back before exiting the vehicle. Gareth stops and makes a point to shake Hayden’s hand. They exchange a silent, heavy look and then we depart…back to Brick Lane.





SCARS


Seeing that disgusting specimen of a man put his hand on Vi made everything inside my body snap. My mind, my temper, my muscles, my sanity.

My heart.

The word “mine” screamed in my head as I bulldozed through the crowd and wrenched him away from her. This scene was so much worse than the one with Ethan at Club Shay. I actually feared for Vi’s safety tonight. A fear that ripped through me like a pain that I’ve never felt before.

Fuck.

Fuck!

This is all happening too fast. Too quick. Too much. She’s just so open and trusting and giving. She’s got no idea about the deeply rooted fear that lives inside of me every time I’m with her. We make our way back up to her flat in a heavy silence. A silence that I’m not even sure how to fill at this point.

I’m f*cking falling for Vi. And that terrifies me so much because she somehow turns me into a loose cannon. I lose all my control and all my sense. The immense possessiveness I have inside me regarding her safety and well-being is…terrifying.

“Do you want to talk about tonight?” she asks quietly, squatting down in the dark kitchen to pat Bruce affectionately as he laps at the fresh water she’s just poured for him.

I sigh heavily and ruffle my hair. “To be frank…I just want to take you to bed and bury myself inside of you until I can’t think anymore.” I don’t tell her that being inside her is the only time I feel like I truly have her.

She rises to her feet, watching me with a sombre expression. Then, she bends over and peels her dress up over her head. Her hair cascades around her shoulders as she stands before me in nothing but a black strapless bra, a black thong, and her black heels.

Desire throttles me as she drops the dress to the floor. In four strides, I’m on her. Kissing her harshly and painfully. Roughly, I toss her up on top of the counter and she flinches at the cold granite against her bare arse. I grab her jaw gruffly, squeezing tightly as I cut my narrowed eyes to hers in warning.

Her head tilts back as her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips. I place my finger in her mouth to jerk her face back down. She responds with a firm bite into my flesh and then soothes the connection with a deep suck on my digit from root to tip. I pull it out and punish her harder with my tongue, thrusting it deeply into her mouth so that she only feels my presence in her, snuffing out any sensation of her own returned kiss.

When I break away from her, arousal floods into the pools of her eyes. She wants it. She feeds off of it. My aggressive passion. She bites her lip and grips my shirt, ripping it open with one harsh yank. The sound of buttons hitting the counter and floor don’t slow her from tearing off my shirt. She kisses my peck and rubs my bulge through my denim pants, releasing a sexy as f*ck moan as I thrust my cock into her greedy hand.

Unable to wait another second, I cup her arse and lift her up so she wraps her legs around my waist. They grip me tightly as I walk us into her bedroom, shutting the French doors on Bruce’s crestfallen face.

I toss her sexy f*cking body down on the bed and lie down on top of her. “What do you want, Bunny?” I ask, my voice husky. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” I’ll give you anything, I think to myself.

Her long lashes lift and her blue eyes twinkle, piercing me with something I didn’t expect. “Make love to me,” she says.

My heart seizes in my chest and I huff out a nervous breath.

Her face falls as she stammers, “I didn’t mean—”

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