Until July (Until Her #1) 9

“That was rude,” I mutter, then my breath comes out in a whoosh as my body is pressed into the wall behind me.

“What are you doing here, July?” he rumbles.

I feel the vibration of his words against my chest as he speaks, and I ignore the butterflies that have erupted in my stomach since seeing him. “I wanted to learn how to line dance?” My answer sounds more like a question.

“Don’t lie to me.” He presses deeper into me, and I can feel every hard inch of him through the thin material of the bodysuit I have on. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes closed, trying to get my body back under control. “There are some fucked up guys here right now, babe, and you can’t be here.”

I open my eyes and search his face. “Are you in trouble?” I ask, and his eyes sweep over me as he mutters, “Yes,” making my insides turn liquid.

“Wes, you’re too close,” I whimper, feeling like his presence is suffocating me.

“Not close enough, baby,” he whispers back as his hands framing my waist press in deeper and his erection presses into my belly.

“Oh, God,” I moan as his face lowers and his mouth hovers over mine, his breath brushes across my lips, making me crave him in a way I never, ever thought possible.

“Don’t,” I tell him, closing my eyes, and after a long moment, I open them back up and meet his eyes when I realize that he didn’t kiss me like I expected him to.

“I’m gonna walk you out to your car. I want you to go right home, and don’t ever come back here again,” he tells me, placing his forehead to mine.

“I—”

“No, babe, you need to swear to me that you will never come back here again.”

“I won’t come back.”

“Come on.” He pulls me with him and leads me back out of the bathroom. Kayan is leaning against the wall, looking at the floor, while biker guy ‘Z’ stands blocking her from everyone’s sight.

“I remember you,” I tell Z when I realize he’s the guy who picked me up like I was as light as a feather the day I tasered Wes. He grins then looks at Wes and shakes his head.

“Let’s get the girls out of here, and then we’ll come back and finish up,” Wes states.

“Sure,” Z mutters, wrapping a hand around a struggling Kayan’s waist and walking in front of us out of the bar. I try prying Wes’ fingers off my waist as we walk, but he only holds me tighter. My legs work double-time in the boots I have on to keep up with him, and I let out a relieved sigh once we reach my Jeep.

“You’re as shy as a kitten. Don’t think I’ve ever had shy in my bed,” I hear Z say as we get into the Jeep. I look over at Kayan, who has her eyes pointed at her lap, but I can see there is dark blush covering her cheeks. “Be good, Kitten,” Z rumbles, shutting her door. I start to shut my own door, when a body cages me into my seat.

“Straight home.”

“Straight home,” I repeat then lick my lips when I realize how close his mouth is.

“We have some shit to work out, but I’ll get in there,” he tells me. My eyes flutter up to meet his, and my heart starts to pound when I see the promise in his eyes. His head dips to the side and his lips brush my ear, making my core convulse. “Be good.”

I nod my head as my voice box closes up. He backs up and slams my door. I start up my Jeep and pull out of the lot then look over at Kayan when I’m at the stop sign. When her eyes meet mine, a smile alights her face.

“That was scary, but oh, my God,” she breathes out, making me giggle.

“No more stakeouts,” I tell her, and she smiles and whispers, “No more stakeouts.”

Chapter 4

I call Mark on the way back to town, and he tells me he wasn’t able to save the dog that was dropped off. My heart breaks yet again for another dog. I vow then that I will get to the bottom of what’s happening, if it’s the last thing I do.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Kayan mumbles solemnly when we pull up in front of my house since I got off the phone with Mark, the energy in the car has changed.

“See you Monday,” I tell her, shutting down my car and heading toward the house. I watch her pull away before heading inside and closing the door.

“Hey, Juice.” I pick him up off the small table and press my face into his fur while I walk into the back bedroom. I dump him onto my bed then pull off the heels and bodysuit before finding an old t-shirt and getting into bed.

I lay there for a long time looking at the ceiling and just as I’m about to fall asleep, there is a pounding on my front door, and I hear Wes yell, “Open up!” I stumble out of my room and go to the front door to see that he’s standing there with Z, who has his arm around Wes’ shoulders.

“What’s going on?” I ask sleepily.

“He got shot.”

My eyes go to Z then get big when I see he’s holding a towel to his shoulder and there is blood soaking through. “You need to go to the hospital.”

“Can’t.”

“Wes, I’m a vet, not a doctor.”

“Jesus,” Z grumbles, and Wes gently presses a hand into my belly and pushes me out of the way as he walks into the house and helps him get seated in one of my white kitchen chairs that creaks like it’s going to give out under his weight.

“Baby,” Wes comes and stands in front of me, and his palms hold my face gently as he nudges my cheek so that my eyes focus on his and not Z. “I need you to help him. The wound is clean through, so all you need to do is sew it up.”

“Wes,” I whisper, looking away from him to Z.

“Look at me.” I do, and his face lowers toward mine. “I need your help, baby.”

I search his face and whisper, “Okay,” then clear my throat. “I need to go to the clinic and get supplies. I don’t have anything here.”

“I’ll take you.”

“No, you stay with him. I’ll go and be back quickly.” I go to my room and get on a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of sneakers. I walk past the guys, head out of my garage, and open the door, and that’s when I see that I’m blocked in by Wes’ SUV.

“I’m driving you,” Wes says, stepping out into the garage. He takes my hand, leads me to the passenger side of his truck, and helps me inside before jogging around to his side. It takes less then five minutes to get to the clinic, and by the time we arrive, my body is shaking with nervous energy.