Brutal Blueblood

until you know how it feels to have the woman you want slip through your fingers. It’ll fuck you up worse than anything you’ve ever known.” And with that and a quick clap to my shoulder, he was off to find Sloane, presumably to score some more bites on his neck.
I had to get back upstairs to Tanith, but I still felt out of control, like I was splitting at the seams, and I needed a drink to calm the hell down first.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I didn’t act like this. I wasn’t like this. Keaton? Totally. Keaton did need all this shit. And of course, Lennox. Hell, even Rhys might deem someone important enough to toy with if he were bored.
But never me. I was the least likely in the Hellfire Club to paw a girl in a completely public place and make her come against a wall. Fucking hell.
My cock twitched. Again. Reminding me it had zero intention of going any-fucking-where because Tanith Bradford had ruined me. Of all people. Ruined me for-fucking-ever. And now it didn’t matter that this wasn’t me, that I never lost my self-control, I was broken with the need to have her. Keep her.
Her taste, her scent. I couldn’t get her out of my goddamned head. And from the moment we’d separated in the hallway, I’d been quaking with pure fury at her nerve to destroy my perfectly constructed sanity. I’d never had this problem before. Women were to be enjoyed, then quickly discarded.
Personal attachments were messy. I loved women, but in a civilized manner. I’d take them somewhere quiet so we could be alone, where I could be in control of the situation, of the surroundings. But Tanith? Fucking hell.
Ever since that kiss on the yacht in Ibiza, she’d been messing with me. None of this felt like a sane course of action. I felt like a completely unhinged person. And of course, I couldn’t exactly talk to my mates about this. What was I supposed to say: “I want to shag her so badly I can feel my skin itching with the need?”
Rhys would never let me live this down. Forget Rhys. Phin—he would eat out on this for months. I was always on him about having some fucking self-control. And the first chance I got, I nearly shagged the poor girl in the hallway.
You certainly did. Pushed up her dress, shoved aside her knickers, and ground against her until she came.
Clearly, I’d lost the plot.
At the bar, I signaled for another scotch, then ran my hands through my hair. In our world, everyone got served, and the bartender didn’t look twice at me. He just nodded and started to pour.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure I really liked the scotch. I preferred a really nice tequila. But goddamn, sometimes dire situations called for scotch. Fuck, this girl had me in knots and completely twisted. What was I supposed to do with this?
Go back up there and get her to understand.
Tell her you liked her.
No, that was bullshit. I wasn’t going to do any such thing. And then, as if I had conjured her out of nothing, there she was, striding down the stairs with that telltale looking for my best friend face.
She was in a hurry. Was she telling Sera she was leaving the party and going to bed?
The tightness in my chest only increased. Where the fuck was she going? She couldn’t just leave.
Before I knew what I was doing, I swigged back the dark amber liquid, then chased after her. Because I was a fool.
When I finally caught up to her, she was headed back upstairs, like she’d given up on finding Sera and decided to go to bed anyway.
“Tanith, wait.”
She whirled around. “Oh my God. I am not in the mood to fight. I’m exhausted. I just want some silence for, like, two minutes, okay? I don’t need you, or your awful brother in my face.”
My brows snapped down, then I scowled up at the next floor. “Felix? Did he bother you?”
“No, he wasn’t bothering—look, he was just being himself, okay? I want to go.”
My heart started to beat so rapidly I wasn’t sure I could make it stop. She wanted to go. I needed to let her go. But, fuck, I want her in my arms, and I needed to make her stay.
You are an idiot. This is how you get hurt.
But despite that ever-screaming warning in my head, I did the thing anyway. I had to relieve the pressure valve, or I was going to burst. “Tanith, stop, okay? Just for a second.”
She sighed and fully turned, crossing her arms. She was eye to eye with me at that point. All around us, partygoers were drinking eggnog and champagne and laughing. From farther in the house, I could hear the music that had replaced the string quartet. Something grinding—a low, sexy beat. The party was moving into its later hours, with some of the more distinguished guests leaving and the younger guests taking advantage of the free booze and dark corners. I knew just how everyone would be dancing to this music too. Except, it wouldn’t look like dancing. It would look like fucking while standing.
Like you wanted to do with her.
What I wanted from her was something different. Something I couldn’t pinpoint. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.
Something more.
And then, without thought, I just said it. “Look, I like you.”
Her ash-blond brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
I just kept talking because I didn’t want her to leave, which was ridiculous because I could see the impending disaster.
But there I was, running my hands through my hair like some kind of fool, confessing things I had no business saying. But there was no stopping my mouth now. “I like you,” I repeated. “And I’m not even sure why. I mean, God, you are so fucking self-important, and you think you know everything. And that internship, the one I deserved, you got. But I can’t