Fire with Fire (Crash and Burn, Book 3) (A Military Romance) (12 page)

But Hank wasn’t too interested in how she felt, apparently. His left hand moved up to her breast and grabbed it blatantly as he hip thrust yet again into her behind.

Across the way, she heard and then saw his cronies at the bar howling with laughter, clapping and shouting encouragement.

“Hey,” she shouted, wrestling out of his grip. “What’s wrong with you?”

Hank’s bloodshot eyes stared unintelligently at her. “It’s pretty obvious you enjoyed what I was doing.” He grabbed for her hips again. “Come on, dance with me, bitch.”

“Bitch?” she shouted back at him. “Who do you think you are, asshole?”

Lucas moved in between them once more. “That’s enough, buddy. She doesn’t want to dance with you anymore.”

“And who are you? The fucking white knight?” Hank said, spittle flying from his mouth. “Why don’t you just fuck off,” he continued, pushing Lucas in the chest.

And then, before she knew what was happening, Lucas was surrounded by Hank’s bar buddies, who swarmed in. They started heckling Lucas and shoving him, and it was clear the young man was overmatched and scared now.

He spun one way and another to fend off his attackers.

At the same time, one of Hank’s other friends had now grabbed Ivy’s waist and was whispering in her ear. “You look so fucking sexy,” he said, his breath rancid and hot as he slathered her ear. “I couldn’t stop watching you all night.”

“Leave me alone!” she yelled.

But he wouldn’t, and the crowd around her was getting ugly. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone grabbing Lucas by his shirt and pulling him, ripping his collar. Another person clubbed Lucas beside his ear with their open hand.

People were pushing and shoving and yelling. A bottle smashed on the floor nearby.

For the first time, fear shot through the drunken haze in Ivy’s mind. She realized she could actually get hurt, as the man near her began groping her without fear of reprisal in the mayhem.

Just when she thought a forced kiss on her mouth was inevitable, a strong male form burst through the crowd, knocking people to the side like bowling pins.

Cullen Sharpe.

Cullen grabbed the drunken man, who’d been attempting to molest her, by his hair. “What the fuck?” the man screamed, his voice turning high pitched, like a young girl.

The furious CEO lifted his leg and kicked the man in his stomach, causing him to fly backwards and fall on the floor. Nearby, two of the guy’s friends converged on Cullen, shouting insults and swinging at him, trying to punch him in retaliation for what he’d done to their buddy.

Cullen ducked in order to avoid the blow, before punching one of them in the ribs. Then he pivoted and threw a straight punch that landed on the other attacker’s nose. The intended victim’s head snapped back and he also fell, looking dazed, his eyes rolling in his head like a cartoon character.

Ivy couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Not only was Cullen a tough character in the boardroom, he was even tougher and scarier in the bar.

Everything was happening so fast, as the drunken crowd gave Cullen Sharpe a wide berth now. He’d proven that he wasn’t averse to putting his fist and feet in direct and painful contact with anyone’s body or face that got in his way.

After eyeing the suspects in the crowd and ensuring they knew not to mess with him, Cullen grabbed Ivy by the arm firmly and whispered in her ear. “It’s not safe here. Come with me.” He began pulling her through the crowd.

Bouncers had finally arrived and were starting to gain control of the melee, but Cullen didn’t care. He was continuing to head toward the exit, his strong hand still firmly gripping Ivy’s bicep as he kept her close and walked fast.

She was still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened. One minute, she’d been drunk, admittedly, but dancing and having an okay time. The next, the place had turned into a battle zone, and Cullen Sharpe had swooped in and rescued her.

She was relieved, excited, and angry all at once.

Mostly, she was drunk. But she didn’t want the CEO to think that she was actually happy to see him and have his hand on her arm.

No. I don’t need him. I don’t care about him.

She started to pull free from his grasp as they got to the door and he let her go. She pushed out of the bar and into the cool night air, stumbling forward.

“Careful,” he said, catching her before she fell onto the sidewalk. His hands were around her arms.

She started wrestling free again, even though part of her wanted him to wrap her even tighter in his arms and hold her, tell her everything was okay.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, and her words felt slurred and slow.

“Ivy, you’re drunk,” he told her. He was slightly out of breath.

She spun on her heel and faced him, feeling tears in her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure why. “What do you care if I’m drunk? You’re not my Dad.”

He smiled at this. “I’m well aware of that fact.”

“You don’t seem to be. You’re completely insane,” she said, relishing the look of surprise in his eyes as she said this.

“It’s not insane to take things seriously,” he replied. “Insanity is getting drunk with a bunch of horny young men and expecting them to act like gentlemen.”

“You’re just a control freak. No, I take that back,” she continued. “You’re just a plain old freak.”

They stared at one another then, neither of them saying anything.

His cold eyes were glowering, filled with anger and frustration with her—but also, something else.

Ivy was certain that he wanted her. But at the same time, he almost seemed to hate her. She couldn’t tell which—maybe both.

“Why did you do that to me?” she finally said, as two tears spilled down her cheek.

“Those men were throwing you around in there,” he said, nodding at the bar. “I had to get you outside.”

“I don’t mean that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why did you do that to me—what you did today in your office?”

Cullen sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “This isn’t the time or the place to discuss it.”

“You don’t have the guts to tell me, do you?” she asked.

He just looked at her, not responding.

“Forget this,” she said, turning, almost losing her footing again, and then starting to run away from him.

She had to get away from Cullen Sharpe and his insanity, his control, his refusal to help her understand what was happening between them.

But before she could get very far, she heard his footsteps. “Ivy, wait,” he commanded.

She stopped, still with her back to him. “Why should I do anything you say?” she whispered.

“Because,” he said, coming up close behind her. “It’s what’s right.”

“No. This entire thing is the opposite of right.” But she liked feeling his presence, knowing that despite being out at night on this poorly lit street, she was safe.

His hand reached out and caressed her cheek and she turned to see his cool eyes watching her with an emotion she didn’t expect.

Was that caring she saw in his eyes?

“Ivy,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her. His soft lips were on hers, and they were softer and more enticing than she’d even imagined.

He kissed her again and again, and his kiss became more intense as he pressed his body into hers. She could feel his need—his beckoning desire was like nothing she’d ever encountered.

This is real
, she thought.
It has to be. He can’t be doing all this for show, could he?

Abruptly, Cullen stopped kissing her, and he stepped back. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” she said.

“You’re drunk.”

“Fine. Whatever, Cullen.” She sighed, starting to walk away from him yet again. “Thanks for a wonderful first day of work. See you later.”

“Come with me,” he told her. “I’m not letting you out of my sight while you’re like this.”

“I’ll catch a cab,” she said, pausing uncertainly.

“I have a private car.” He gave a loud whistle and a wave, and then she saw a shiny stretch limo pulling up the curb.

“You have a limo just waiting for you at all times?” she said, her brow creasing.

“I called for a car when I first got to the bar and saw you there. I knew that I was going to ensure you were taken care of properly.” His words brooked no discussion, and Ivy was through arguing with him.

She was tired, drunk and weak from trying to resist him.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

But then again, how could she not like the fact that he was thinking of her from the moment he stepped into the bar tonight?

Cullen opened the limousine door for her and then took her hand gently, helping her get inside.

Once they were inside the beautiful, spotless limousine, Cullen leaned forward towards the driver. “Take us to the Back Bay apartment, Dennis.”

“Yes, Mr. Sharpe,” the driver said, nodding as he raised the partition between the front and back seat to give them privacy.

Cullen was sitting next to her even though the limo had room for probably a dozen more people.

His leg touched hers and she found herself wanting him to kiss her again, right now. She turned towards him. “You have beautiful eyes,” she said softly.

He nodded. “Thank you for saying so.” Then he turned his face away from her and looked out the window of the car.

She felt a pang of rejection in her stomach. “Did I mention your eyes are also totally cold and emotionless?”

Cullen glanced at her. “It’s not the first time I’ve been told that.”

“That your eyes are beautiful? Or that you’re cold and emotionless?”

“Both,” he shot back. His leg moved away from hers.

She clenched her fists and rolled her eyes. “Why did you tell the driver to go to the Back Bay?”

“Because,” he said, “I’m not leaving you when you’re like this. I’m taking you to my apartment.”

A thrill went through her stomach as she processed this news. Her heart sped up a little. But then again, he was sending so many mixed signals that she didn’t know exactly what this development meant.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Let’s not discuss it right now.”

“You don’t want to discuss
anything
.” She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t bother discussing things with people who won’t remember them the next day.”

Ivy slid away from him, folded her arms. She was getting more and more angry at the way Cullen was treating her. “I’m not a child,” she said finally.

“Then stop behaving like one.”

Now her frustration boiled over. She leaned towards the driver. “Please take me to Tremont Street! That’s the street
my
apartment’s on,” she told Cullen, just in case he was wondering why she wanted to go there.

The partition didn’t move and the driver didn’t respond.

“He takes direction from his client,” Cullen said calmly. “I’m afraid we haven’t changed destinations just because you’re having a tantrum.”

“So now you’re kidnapping me?”

He looked directly at her with his unreadable expression. “Please stop being melodramatic. You’re coming home with me and sobering up. We’ll talk more later.”

“I’m not drunk!” she said. “Please stop saying I’m drunk…” She couldn’t finish insisting that she was sober, however, because Ivy was struck by a wave of intense nausea. And she found herself retching in the limousine.

She vomited on the floor of the limo, shocking herself most of all.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “I’m so, so…”

Cullen was at her side in a flash, holding her, his arm encircling her back. “Dennis, please pull the car over.”

Moments later, Cullen helped her outside, and stood by the side of the road with her as she got sick again, puking into the gutter.

She was humiliated but too sick to really appreciate just how humiliated she actually was.

“Why are you still helping me?” she asked, between bouts of nausea, as Cullen rubbed her back and stroked her hair.

“You know why,” he said, without ever answering the question directly.

“You’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met,” she groaned.

Finally, it seemed she was done being sick, and they got back in the limo. Dennis had apparently already scrubbed and cleaned the floor. The only signs of her sickness were the smell of cleaning fluid, and the dark stain left over.

She closed her eyes and Cullen told her to lie down. “Put your head in my lap,” he said.

She nodded, accepting that he knew best. Besides, she wanted to be close to him right now.

He’s not just the most frustrating person ever. He’s also the most confusing. One second he’s distant and cold—the next he’s the warmest, most caring man in the world.

I feel totally safe right now. Totally cared for.

But then he changes on a dime.

She didn’t understand it, but she closed her eyes anyway, as she lied down on the seat and put her head in Cullen Sharpe’s warm lap.

“My head is in the CEO’s lap,” she said aloud.

Cullen laughed a little. “Shhhh….” He soothed, stroking her hair.

She could feel his bulge, as her cheek pressed into his lap. Was it her imagination or was he hardening right now?

What would it be like to unzip him, right here…suck him off in his private limo?

But she was in no state to actually do something like that—especially not the first time in her life. She didn’t have the guts or the stomach for it.

Besides, the way he was stroking her hair felt so nice…

“I’m falling asleep,” she announced drowsily.

“That’s good,” he assured her. “You’ve made the right decision.”

She drifted off, only waking up as he picked her up—like a child, in his arms—lifting her easily out of the limousine and walking her up the steps of his home.

“Where…where are you taking me…”

“Everything’s fine. You need rest,” he said softly, as he walked easily.

“I’m too heavy to carry.”

“Nonsense.” His strong arms cradled her and she hugged him, nuzzling her face into his chest, smelling his scent.

She’d never known her father and her mother had raised her entirely as a single parent. So she’d never had the daddy who picked her up and put her to bed, but she supposed it must have felt something like this.