Sweet Possession

“Finally,” Joey says through a giggle as one of the bartenders walk up to where we’re standing. He’s holding a bright pink cocktail and places it on the table in front of us. “Uh, I didn’t order yet. Although, that looks delicious.”

“It’s for her.” The bartender motions at me with his head. “From the guy at the end of the bar.”

The four of us all turn toward where he has directed, the laughter fading out as we all seemingly focus on the same individual.

Fucking motherfucker.

Bryce is staring at me with that same smug smirk, which is apparently a permanent fixture on his face. He’s as eerie looking as I remember, with those yellow eyes that seem to glow in the bar, like a stalking reptile.

“What is that fucker doing here?” Joey asks, moving closer to me. I register his question but can’t seem to find the words. I’m too busy coming up with ways to lay this asshole out.

“Damn. He’s hot. Who is that guy?”

The three of us all turn to see a very horny-looking, one-eyed Brooke.

“Really, Brooke? You just gave some stranger head and you’re patrolling for more ass? Maybe you should pace yourself,” Joey says before returning his gaze back to Bryce. Brooke simply shrugs her response as he continues. “He must have a death wish to be in the same building as you. Reese is going to freak out.”

“Is that Bryce?” Juls asks. I nod and see her eyes widen. “Shit. You were right, sweets; he is creepy looking.”

Creepy seems to downplay it. The man makes my skin crawl, and this is only the third time I’m seeing him. I step up to the bar and grab the drink off the counter. There’s a possibility that what I’m about to do will get me kicked out of this pristine club, but right now, I don’t care. I’ve had an amazing time with my friends and if it ends now, I’m fine with that.

“Dylan! Hold up!”

I hear Joey’s voice behind me as I move between the patrons. Bryce keeps his chilling smile on me as I inch closer, either not knowing or not caring how his gesture is being received. In fact, if anything, his stupid face seems to break into an even-bigger grin as I step next to him.

“Dylan, it’s been too damn long since I laid my eyes on that tight body of yours. Remind me to thank your fiancé for bringing you along on this little trip,” he spews through his venomous grin. His eyes slowly rake over my body, giving extra attention to my breasts. “Damn, girl, that dress belongs on my bedroom floor. Wanna get out of here and make that happen?”

I waste no time in drenching his face in my bright-pink cocktail, placing my now-empty glass down on the bar and gaining the attention of everyone around us. “Go fuck yourself, Bryce. Even if I wasn’t with Reese, I would never go anywhere with you. The dickhead vibe you got going on doesn’t really do anything for me. Nor do your lame-as-shit pick-up lines.” I feel movement at my back as Juls, Joey, and a stunned-looking Brooke flank my side.

Bryce wipes the drink from his eyes, not dropping his smile even the slightest. “I heard you had a bit of a temper. Does Reese like that? Do you fuck him angry?”

“Oh, no, you did not just say that,” Joey spits, stepping closer to Bryce.

I hold my arm out and stop him from getting in Bryce’s face. “Don’t, Joey. He isn’t worth getting arrested over.” Because that’s exactly what would happen. Bryce is such a punk, he’d press charges instead of manning up and actually fighting back.

Joey looks down at me, nostrils flaring. “He’s not going to talk to you like that. Let me handle this.”

“Oh, but I’d much rather Dylan handle me, Joey.” Bryce leans against the bar, his white polo shirt now stained light pink. “You want that, don’t you, baby? You want to handle me?”

“Fuck you, asshole. I really hope we’re all around to see you get your ass beat,” Juls says, grabbing mine and Joey’s elbows and tugging us back. Bryce’s smile touches his eyes, making them practically twinkle at the sentiment. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Just for the record: up close, you’re not hot,” Brooke adds behind us. I turn and see her flip him off over her shoulder.

I place my hand on Joey’s back, making sure he’s moving with me as we both follow Juls away from the bar and toward the entrance. “Goddamn it,” I utter to myself. Nothing would’ve pleased me more than to slap the snot out of that jerk. Well, except for maybe throwing my first punch. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything.

We all pile into the limo and as soon as we get situated, Brooke opens the liquor cabinet. “I don’t know about you three, but I need to get trashed.”

A collective “yeah” fills the inside of the limo. Alcohol after that encounter? Yes. Absolutely. I find the button that lowers the window dividing us and the driver, dropping it down. I meet the man’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Would you mind driving around for a while before you take us back to the house?” I ask him.

“Not at all, Miss.”

“I cannot wait until Reese finds out about this. That prick is going to get the ass-beating of the century,” Joey says, taking a champagne bottle from Brooke. She hands Juls and me ours after opening them.

“Reese isn’t finding out about his,” I inform him after taking a swig. I glance between the three pairs of eyes on me, all filled with concern. “I mean it. This account he and Ian have with Bryce is important enough for Reese to put aside his hate for that asshole and actually work with him. If we say anything, he’ll drop the account for sure, and most likely go to prison for murder. He doesn’t need to know. Nothing happened.”