CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE –
Megan POV
Lights flashed. Music pounded. Everything blurred.
“Get off me!” I slurred, pushing away the grabbing hands.
Then HIS voice cut through the chaos. “Get your damned hands off her!”
Chris… He came out of nowhere, eyes blazing.
A whirlwind of movement. Shouts and crashes. Then silence.
“Chris?” I mumbled, barely focused.
He was there, solid and real. Scooping me up effortlessly.
“I’m taking you home,” he rumbled. Soothing. Protective.
“No…” I protested weakly, fumbling for my keys. “My place…”
“No… ” I rallied enough presence of mind to reach into the folds of my discarded clutch and withdraw my keycard, thrusting it insistently towards Chris with a petulant shake of my head. “My… my place…”
He regarded the proffered card with furrowed bewilderment before realization seemed to dawn across his chiseled features.
“You’re sure about that?” The undercurrent of concern in his timbre made me bristle despite its caring intent. “After everything that just went down, I’m not overstepping by…”
I cut him off with an impatient wave, doubling my efforts to press the access card into his broad palm until he finally accepted it with a resigned sigh.
“Okay, if you insist,” he relented gruffly, already twisting to survey our surroundings with that steady, appraising stare that made me feel oddly… centered in the madness for a fleeting instant. “Where am I taking you then, kitten?”
The endearment slipped forth with such casual affection, it disarmed me from firing off some snarky rejoinder about familiarity.
Instead, with a jaw-cracking yawn, I simply keyed the address of my penthouse into his contacts.
“Right…” Chris grunted, thumb working furiously over his phone for a beat before sweeping me up as effortlessly as a child.
Any protest I could’ve mustered melted away as we set off towards the shadowy mouth of the alleyway – my frame cradled flush against his broad chest.
The steady thrumming of his heartbeat resonated through me with the same grounding frequency as his voice, making my eyelids suddenly feel incredibly heavy.
The blur of neon signs and solitary nighthawks streaming past in fitful glimpses as we strode on did little to puncture the soothing lull of fatigue claiming me after such an adrenalized purge of excess.
“Stay awake for me there, kitten,” an insistent murmur reverberated beside my ear, sending tingles tripping down my nape. “I need you conscious and coherent to finalize that access for your place when we arrive.”
For reasons I couldn’t fully parse in my muddled state, the sensation of his lips brushing the crown of my hairline as he spoke elicited a contented hum.
Despite my initial misgivings, having HIM be the instrument of my attempted reclamation for the evening felt… decidedly appropriate for some cryptic reason.
With a supreme force of will, I peeled my lashes apart to find his intense gaze already studying me in sidelong profile as we fell into step.
All traces of that savage, berserker intensity from earlier were once again rendered into measured, glacial control.
“You really think you’ve got a handle on all of… this?” The words scraping out were still tinged with maudlin petulance despite my lucid efforts.
Rather than rise to the bait, that somehow managed to summon yet another weary chuckle from the man beneath me.
“Hell no, I don’t,” he replied with a lopsided grin crinkling those striking features. “But we’ve both survived far worse than a drunken club brawl or paparazzi circus before, haven’t we?”
His gaze held mine with remarkable gravitas for one eternal, sobering inhalation.
“I’ve got your back for this one, Megan – no muss, no fuss. Just a friend coming through for a friend.”
I regarded him wordlessly for a few suspended heartbeats, weighing the solemn conviction of that vow despite the carefree cadence it had been delivered in.
In the end, I could only manage the barest semblance of a nod, allowing my eyes to slide shut and simply surrendering to the rise and fall of his purposeful strides for the remainder of our journey.
….
The cab ride was a blur. Next thing I knew, he carried me through my door.
“Whereto?” Chris’s low voice rumbled.
“Bedroom…” I mumbled, vaguely waving a hand at the lavish open space.
He found the oversized bed, laying me down gently. I sank into plush comfort with a sigh.
“You’ll be okay?” Concern creased his brow as he studied me.
“Mmhmm…” I nodded lazily, already drifting.
He turned to leave. Then the alcohol emboldened me to reckless impulse. I grabbed his wrist.
“Wait!” I tugged him back towards the bed. “Help me outta this?”
Chris froze, eyes slightly widened as my fingers found the zipper at my back. I squirmed against the suddenly restrictive dress.
“Please?” I breathed out, giving him a heavy-lidded look. “S’tight…”
He swallowed hard, gaze flicking away as the air thickened with tension. For a moment, I thought he’d refuse outright.
But then his calloused fingers grazed my nape, achingly gentle as he slowly unzipped the clinging fabric. I shivered at his feather-light touch.
The dress immediately loosened, allowing me to breathe easier. Chris carefully eased the straps from my shoulders until the garment pooled around my waist.
Our eyes met in the sudden silence, connection crackling like a livewire. He seemed to be battling with himself over taking things further.
Then reality reasserted itself. Chris gently removed my grabbing hand from his shirt.
“Not like this,” he murmured in a low rasp. “You need rest, kitten.”
I pouted petulantly but had no energy to argue as he guided me to lie back against the pillows. I watched with hooded eyes as he turned and quietly left the bedroom.
I got an idea, impulsive and emboldened by the lingering tequila warmth, I scrolled through my phone. A wicked idea formed.
Snapping a photo of just my tousled hair and a glimpse of muscled forearm, I posted it to Insta with the caption:
“My new caring boyfriend took such good care of me tonight ?”
I drifted off to sleep with a naughty smile, secure in the knowledge Chris would be close by – and speculation about my post would run rampant by morning.