๑˙❥˙BROOKE ˙❥˙๑
SHE WAS SLIGHTLY SOBER when she took his hand and used it for support.
She was slightly sober when she accepted his offer of driving her back to the hotel.
And she was as sober as a cat which had taken a gallon of catnip when the man with the funny beard commented,
"Aii mami sé mío esta noche y meceré tu coño como una ramera"
The bearded guy, slightly ten pounds than her gave her a once over and before he could chug his drink and throw another comment, Clay Cervantes had already let go of her wrist.
To no one's surprise, Clay punched the guy-hard. Hard so much that some of the petty girls who'd eye fucked him earlier shrilled with terrific horror.
"It was a joke! A joke",Mr Beard lost the Spanish ascent but that didn't stop Clay from taking the bottle of Heineken and slamming it onto his head rendering him unconscious.
Standing up, straightening his suit like he didn't have another man's blood mixed with his on top of his knuckles, his hand fell on her wrist again.
Possessive, angry, jaw ticking, he escorted her outside. The draft that was LA on a cold night hit her shoulders and the black dress that felt like a bikini in such weather.
She shivered waiting for the valet to bring Clay's car around. As if the man could notice, he whipped his coat from his body like a modern day Bruce Lee.
"You don't have to. I-I'm good", she trembled but the man didn't hear a thing as he covered her shoulders, his fingers brushing her cold skin like hot wax.
The valet, a sandy haired seventeen year old, came with Clay's slick car.
"In mint condition, Sir", he grinned and Clay took some bills from his pocket giving the kid that looked like he'd won a lottery.
"Thank you, Sir. Thank you"
Few minutes later they were on the road and it felt like deja vu. Slightly like deja vu because this time it was different.
The first time Clay had beaten a man to a pulp, she'd been terrified but now? Somehow she understood his violent side.
With that grumpy-handsome-face he had, one way or another he had to let out steam somehow.
And him letting out steam meant this. Bloody knuckles. Eyes blazing. Muscle expanding and contracting like they'd rip open at anytime.
That was Clay Cervantes and maybe it was the alcohol talking but she could say she knew him. Partly knew him.
"You are staring", he broke the ice.
"You hit a man", she replied not breaking her stare.
"He insulted you", he continued with the three word answers.
"We could have ignored him"
"Ignoring shit is not where I shine brightest"
Facts.
"Guys are guys. I run into such morons daily and if I regularly did what you do, I'd end up in jail for multiple homicides"
"You punched a guy too"
"That was different. He touched me, other guys don't"
The silence went on and she darted her gaze from Clay to the window.
"Does she like violent men?"
"Huh?" She asked surprised by the question.
"Calandria"
YOU ARE READING
Clay's Unwanted Blondie
Romance"Y...You bastard! If you think I'll marry you because of some stupid debt you have with my dad then you are out of your mind. I'll never marry you!" "The feeling's mutual but here we are", he barked icily. xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx Arranged marriages, such...
