Dean

Breathing deep, I place my hand on the curve of Tatum’s juicy ass and glare at the cold-blooded motherfucker who deadened my hard-on for the beauty at my side. Not sure what he’s doing on this side of the barriers. Pretty sure I’m about to find out.

Cuts me like a knife that a few minutes ago, my cock was harder than it’s been in a long time while my mind was strumming up all the ways to fuck her. To taste and devour. Learn and explore every tantalizing inch of her. I want to bring this woman to the edge of sanity and topple over with her. Hear her scream, have her tell me everything she wants me to do to her, and do it so well that she never wants to leave my bed.

For the first time in my life, I found a woman who grips hold of my busted heart and without even trying starts to mend it.

Didn’t want to do it before I told her the one thing stopping it from healing, but when I saw her in that dress, loving her flirty attitude, and heard her admitting to touching herself, my secret faded away.

The intensity of Sam’s presence fills up the sidewalk. I become worked up. Restless. Agitation sinks in knowing this time I won’t stoop to his level and beat his fucking ass.

An unwelcome spike of aggression courses red-hot through my insides when Tatum’s body stiffens through the shakes she’s trying to hide. I clamp my jaw shut about as tightly as I press the tips of my fingers into my thigh through the pocket of my dress slacks.

I hate coming to these things, but like I told Tatum, I’m here for our fans. If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be able to do the thing we love.

I need him away from me before Leila finds us and puts two and two together. It isn’t like Tatum and I are trying to hide this piece of shit from her. It’s trying to find the time to talk it out. Truth be told, my girl won’t give a shit. She’ll praise her moon and stars Tatum isn’t with this filth anymore.

Gratification leeches on when his glare shifts to where my hand rests on her backside. He isn’t digging I’ve got a hold of something he’s years too late realizing is worth everything. Me and her, that’s his problem these days. The worst thing about his jealousy is, he isn’t going to back off until he taints everything I care about. That’s what he’s doing by standing right in our path, knowing Tatum will look like an unforgiving, scorned woman in front of the cameras if she doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Hey, Dad. Sorry I’m late.” Fucking hell. Don’t care if every reporter in the city is here. If he rattles off too much, I’ll make sure he isn’t able to talk for a very long time.

Leila’s words trail off when she recognizes the man in front of us. Hands tucked inside of a black tuxedo. A shocked expression is now lighting up his face. It’s my turn to stiffen when the bastard grins at Leila, and his beady little eyes scale down her body.

Never wanted to shoot someone between the eyes as badly as I do him. Gawking at my daughter as if she’s a treat he can’t wait to get his hands on. Scum wants to keep his hands that marked up my girl; he better keep them stuffed in his pockets. Worthless piece of shit.

“Dad, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

A cursed memory stamps across my mind hearing her ask in a panicked tone.

“Dad, what’s going on? Stop. Oh, my God. Please, just stop before you kill him.”

I want to kill him, baby. I want to yank his tongue out of his mouth, shove it down his throat, and make him eat it along with the vile words he just said.

Someone jerked me upright from the hair on my head. Blood was dripping from my scraped, raw knuckles. I was out of breath, eyes livid and wild.

“Get the fuck off me!” I yelled. Manically searching around for Leila amongst the crowd. “Leila.” I tried jerking away from whoever was squeezing the air out of me with their hands pressing against my sternum. “You need to let go of me, motherfucker, and stay out of this.” I looked around trying to find her, frantic now.

“Stay right where you are, Leila.” My body thrashed when I found her, and I saw panic and fear radiating like a bright neon light from her tear-streaked face. “Fuck, what have I done?”

I felt my heart slam hard against my ribcage. Out of breath, skin breaking out in a cold, damp sweat, stomach twisting and rolling. All I’d ever wanted to do was protect her, shield her from the pain she didn’t deserve to feel. I wanted to throw up for hurting her, and I wanted to do it all over Sam Borst. “Goddamn it.”

“You just beat the shit out of a reporter, Wagner. From what I witnessed, he didn’t do a damn thing to you. I’m going to see to it you don’t get away with it. You're under arrest.” Shit, a cop. Had this bastard set me up? He sure the fuck had. I could feel his bitterness toward me mixed in with the spit I wanted to hurl in his face. Crooked fucking cops along with an unethical reporter. Nice.

Well, he got what he wanted. Difference between him and me was, I’d fight with my fists instead of words. The shit thing is, words can scar worse than an ass beating, and he knew it.

“Your daughter is growing up. A few more years, and she’ll be legal, right? Can’t wait to have a nice long chat with her. Does she know you’re hiding a secret?” he’d whispered in my ear right when I’d pushed open the door for us to exit the movie theatre.

Couldn’t give a rat’s ass if he arrested me. All I cared about was my little girl. The one who should have never witnessed the outraged man I’d allowed myself to become. The one I’d keep my mouth shut for and take my punishment like the failing parent I’d become.

“Don’t care, but if you don’t let me talk to my daughter for a minute, I’ll have your badge. She’s underage. I need to tell her where to go.”

The cop’s response was to twine my wrists behind my back, slap a set of handcuffs on me, and shove me to the ground.

“You resisting me, rock star?” Jesus H. Christ. This was the last thing Leila needed to see. She was already scared enough as it was.

“What are you doing to him? Let him go, please.” Leila begged; her entire body was shaking up against that wall. A wall she needed to hold herself up. It should have been me holding on to her, keeping her safe. Fuck, I was never going to forgive myself for not keeping my mouth shut. Why in the hell didn’t I walk away?

I caught my breath, mind wondering if we had a wannabe superhero on the force. All the while my eyes were blinking as flashes from phones went off in my face. Jesus, this was a nightmare.

“If one picture of her is printed without my permission, I’ll spend every last dime destroying all of you.”

I might have beaten his ass, but I was definitely not the one who should have been in cuffs. He had hounded me, stalked me, flown to concerts, and gone as low as following me tonight. If that wasn’t stalking, I didn’t know what was. I’d kept my cool and ignored this scum-sucking ass until now.

Tonight had started out perfectly for us. She was growing up on me. Spending more time with her friends. Doing her thing. Any chance I got to spend time with her, I took. When she asked if I wanted to go to dinner and a movie, I dropped what I was doing and left. Now, her night was ruined. Fuck, I hated him.

“Know better than to resist arrest. You need to take that knee out of my back and let me talk to my kid. Not going to say it again.”

“I don’t have to do jack shit. You should have thought about her before you hit him. Better hope CPS doesn’t hear about this. Don’t matter to them who you are or how much money you have; they could take her away.”

“She’s sixteen, you asshole; even I know they won’t take her from me. Besides, there are plenty of witnesses watching what you're doing. I don’t need my money to buy them off. My fame will do it for me.” I’d never thrown my fame in someone’s face before. It wasn’t going to do me a bit of good now. But my point came across to him when he hoisted me onto my feet.

“Leila, go back inside, call Marcus, and do everything he tells you. Stay with one of the guys. I’ll call you when I can.” I couldn’t hear a fucking thing over the noise from the crowd. I nearly came unglued when a female cop walked up to her, handed her a tissue, and said something that made her eyes go wide. She was asking her what happened. Bitch. I knew my girl; I knew she was strong, and she’d keep her mouth shut no matter what. Besides, she had no idea why I punched the man who let out a loud, pained moan before he rolled onto his back, lifted his bloodied face, and aimed it my way with one hell of a fake award-winning smile.

“You're going to be hurting for a while, man. I hope you hurt like hell.” If Leila hadn’t been freaking out, I’d have taken my booted foot and slammed it in his face.

“You’ll pay for this. I promise you will,” he threatened through a mouthful of blood.

“I’ve been paying since the night I lost my son, you heartless son of a bitch. You think you can hurt me? I’m numb, motherfucker. If you ever speak one word to her, you’ll be the one paying with your life.”

“How did you get across the fucking line?” I clear my thoughts, cock my head in Roman’s direction to see the steam rolling off his words, followed by an uncontrolled blaze billowing out of his ears.

“I’m not here representing the press tonight. I’m here with my girlfriend. Surely, you guys know Claudia Stratton. Doesn’t she have a contract with you?” Someone give me strength not to wipe his bloodsucking smug off his face. He’s going all in with trying to wreck people to strike out at me.

Claudia is one of the reasons why we're here. She’s up for best new artist of the year. The young woman has talent as I’ve never heard before. Can sing just about anything, and the world fell in love with her from the get-go. Claudia is selling the stores out. She’s also stupid as fuck dating him. He’ll chew her up and leave her for shark bait.

He assesses me. Sizing me up, just waiting for me to take his bait. I bite my tongue even though I want to lay him out. I won’t engage in a conversation with him or let him get to me. Not in front of my family, and definitely not in front of the screaming fans. I’ll be damn sure to let Claudia know the first chance I get who and what kind of man he is.

I’m not sure what pisses me off more; the way he now shuffles his gaze lovingly into Tatum’s eyes, or the uncomfortable silence falling around us enough that only a blind man could miss. There is so much tension coiling back and forth between him and Tatum that there is no way Leila can’t feel it. I sense Tatum’s hurt, feel her wishful regret that she holds deep inside of her. The history they share obliterated by his revolting hands.

Possessiveness clenches my fists when his eyeballs land on her cleavage. He shows no mercy in the way he salivates. The thought of him touching her in any way, tasting her, hearing her moans in pleasure make me ill. My stomach clenches.

With a rattle of a snake ready to strike, he grabs hold of her hand and kisses her knuckles, causing my bones to creak as if lightning had just struck me down. Gleaming eyes trained on what he lost. What’s now mine.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hisses. Confusion is carved all over her, yet she’s poised and smiling.

The rutted tone in her voice that slices streaks of pain across my flesh speaks volumes of how much she cares. Tatum is wounded he’s doing this in front of a crowd of people who are most likely thinking the two of them are sharing a friendly exchange. She feels helpless she can’t dig her claws in and tell him how she really feels. She is holding herself back, being professional for the sake of my reputation. She couldn’t be any more perfect to me than she is at this very moment.

I feel all her breath knock loose from her lungs, and something hits me. Fuck me; I know the game he’s trying to play. Praying like a God on his knees I’ll react, take a punch at him, and cause a scene. Sick fucking bastard. Wonder what his fuckbuddies behind the lenses would think if I told them what he did to her. If any of them had a lick of common sense, they’d destroy him. Most likely half of the ones here would. Majority of them are by invite only. High-class professionals who do their job without ruining anyone’s dignity.

“You playing it up for the cameras, letting the whole fucking lot of them think you care. I’ve got news of my own, you dickless prick. Those people behind us aren’t paying one bit of attention to you. They have their eyes trained on the woman’s hand you’re holding. All the men out there are wishing like a whore gone wild they were Dean. They all want a taste of her beauty. She’s fucking stunning, isn’t she? This will be the one and only time I tell you thanks. Tatum is the best thing to happen to Dean. She isn’t yours to touch anymore. Take your hands off her before I decide to sit in the same jail cell as my friend did.” Jesus, Miles. Where in the hell did that come from? He needs help, but sitting in jail will only make things worse for him.

I keep my eyes trained on Miles. Dude is sweating and shaking like a pig in the summer heat. I can identify his need for a drink because I sure as fuck need to smoke right now. Hell, I’d take some weed if it was offered to mellow my ass out just so every muscle in my body didn’t lock down from the next words that come out of Sam’s mouth.

“Maybe you need to go have a drink, Miles. I thought I’d say hello to my ex-fiancée while I wait for Claudia to finish her interview. Any of you got a problem with that?”

Leila's breath hitches, Joslyn wobbles on her heels, and when I lock eyes with Tatum, every bit of her flirty, easy-going smile she had earlier is wiped off her face. She looks frightened. Suddenly, I find myself not giving a shit anymore. I’ll suffer the consequences. Tell Leila everything if I have to right here in order to keep from having to see the sheer look of terror on Tatum’s face or to hear my daughter gasping at my side.

“You don’t want to fuck with me. I got a problem, alright. It’s you. The way I see things is, you have no right to even touch her with hands you hurt her with. Men who lift a finger to a woman should have their dicks cut off. You must be begging to lose the little one you have. I’m going to lay this out for you since it’s obvious Dean’s message didn’t penetrate through your skull when he beat your ass. Tatum is part of our family. We protect what’s ours. If you see her on the sidewalk, you turn away. If you say her name, speak to her, or come close to her, I’ll fuck you up so bad you won’t be able to walk. Back away, or your career ends here.”

I gape at Miles. Think we all might crane our necks toward him. Never heard him lose his temper sober. He only loosens up and runs his mouth when he has liquid courage behind it. Saw it firsthand many times.

The first chance I got, I chewed him a new asshole for his stunt with Leila, and all he did was sit there and take the ass chewing his clear head told him he deserved. I brought my iron fist down on my kid, too. She wants to party, then she does it without bringing it to my place. Still haven’t figured out what that look she gave him was all about. Leila claims she doesn’t remember. I’m not stupid, though; I have reason to believe my daughter sees Miles as more than a friend. I’d be perfectly fine with it if he’d get his shit together. Until then, I made it perfectly clear to him to stay away from her.

“Easy, you wouldn’t want those microphones picking up on that threat,” fuckface responds, still sporting his fake happy grin.

“Like hell, I don’t. I want them all to hear that you grabbed hold of a woman and left bruises. Wouldn’t take long for what little reputation you have to smolder out. You get my meaning yet, or you ready to have my fist slam into your face?”

“It’s good to see you, Tatum. You must be Leila. I’m Sam, Tatum’s ex-fiancé.” He ignores Miles, goes to take hold of my daughter’s hand. She jerks away, slinks a little closer to me, and grabs my hand.

“I know who you are, and I wouldn’t touch you if it were the only way to save my life. I don’t know what it is you think you're doing, but I’ve had enough of it. You stay away from my dad and Tatum. Haven’t you hurt us enough?” Her lips press together, brows pinched. Yeah, I love my girl. Best kid ever.

Even though I appreciate everyone defending me, this is my battle, my war to win, and by the way his grin slides off his face, he’s ready to launch a grenade and rip my kid to shreds.

“Piss on this slimy piece of shit. Let's move on. He wants us to be mad. Ain’t no one got time for him. Unlike you, we have fans to meet. People who actually give a fuck.” Sam’s jaw clenches, and I swear I hear his teeth grind. Makes me wonder which part of what Roman just said pissed him off the most. I’m going with the last sentence.

“You are an asshole. I’m going to love helping destroy you, Sam.” Goddamn, my dick is getting hard hearing Tatum say that.

“Lead the way, Roman,” I say, grasping Leila’s hand a little tighter. I keep my other hand on Tatum, moving it to just above the swell of her juicy ass, and push our way through the crowd.

Take that, motherfucker. This ass and this incredible woman you shit all over are mine.

“Dad, are you alright?”

“I am now. Do me a favor and never speak to that man. I mean never, Leila. Stay as far away from him as you can. I know you have questions, and Tatum and I will answer them tomorrow. Tonight, though, we are all going to have a good time. Everything is fine. You get me?” I keep my voice as low as I can.

Much to no one’s surprise, Sam keeps his eyes on Tatum the entire night, his jealous actions speaking loud and clear and giving me all the more reason to touch her.

I enjoy every fucking minute of watching him silently bleed.