“I could have handled him,” Whitney said, and her voice only trembled a little. “He just was being a nuisance. I don’t think that you needed to go full hulk on him and threaten to break his hand.”
He spun to face her. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He stalked toward her.
There was no place for her to go, not unless she jumped into her car. Maybe she should consider that option. Because in the shadows, Ramsey looked scary and savage and the fury around him just seemed to grow and grow.
He jerked to a halt near her. His body brushed against hers. “I told you…I wanted to have an escort come outside with you.”
Her mind was trying to process everything as fast as she could. “You followed me.”
He didn’t deny the charge.
“Why?”
“Another question. Do you truly think I’ll answer it?”
“I think—” No, she didn’t think he’d tell her the truth. She thought he was lying and tricking her. Words could deceive. Actions couldn’t. He’d just acted like some kind of primitive, jealous, out of control…lover? Boyfriend?
What was it? What were they to each other?
“You wouldn’t have broken his fingers.” At least she’d finally found something to say.
He didn’t respond.
“You wouldn’t have done that.” He was just trying to seem scary and intimidating.
Ramsey laughed. “You don’t know me. You don’t remember a damn thing about me. How could you determine what I would or wouldn’t do?” He pointed toward the driver’s door of her car. “Get in the vehicle and get out of here. You can’t trust the people at this place. They will hurt you.”
“That man, he—”
“That man has a record a mile long. He’s gone to prison for assault twice. Hell, yes, I would have broken his hand if he’d hurt you, and I would not have even given the act a second thought.”
Her breath shuddered out.
“Get in the car, Whitney.”
He was protecting her. Scaring her, but protecting her. Why? “You’re wrong.”
“The hell I am. I know these people. I understand them. If you don’t show strength, then you get destroyed. Believe me when I say that I would not hesitate to—”
She put her hands on his chest. Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. But she was practically going crazy, and she had to know if she was right. “I do remember something about you. I remember how your mouth feels against mine.” And to prove it—to him and herself—she shoved up onto her toes. One of her hands grabbed the back of his head and she pushed her mouth against his.
Her movements had been awkward and too fast, and this was probably such a bad idea. An even worse idea than going into Ramsey’s in the first place, but she just had to know, and—
He wasn’t kissing her back.
His body was granite hard. So unyielding. And he wasn’t kissing her back.
Her lips brushed against his. Carefully. Tentatively. She’d been so sure…
A shudder ran the length of his body.
Whitney realized she’d squeezed her eyes shut. She cracked them open. “Ram?” The shortened version of his name slipped from her.
“Fucking…tried…” His hands closed around her hips. He lifted her up. Put her on the trunk of the car, and then he stepped between her spread legs. “Need you.”
This time, his mouth took hers.
Her lips were open, her body bow tight. His mouth brushed against hers, and then he tugged on her lower lip. A sensual pull that had her tensing all the more just before his tongue thrust into her mouth. He tasted her. He teased. He took. A moan built in her throat, and his mouth grew even harder on hers.
He was pulling her closer. His hands were sliding over her.
Everything was familiar. His mouth. His tongue. The way he touched her. The way he felt. The way hunger and need and lust whipped through her. Everything was familiar. Everything was—
I fucked you so many times that your body was tuned to me and only to me.
The words he’d said earlier rang through her head. She’d thought he was mocking her, but he felt right against her.
His hand slid to the front of her—
“Stop!” She’d torn her mouth from his. Her breath heaved in and out. Her heart raced far too fast.
His hands slapped onto the car’s trunk.
“We’ve kissed before.” She was definite on this.
He still stood between her legs. His gaze pinned hers. In the dark, she couldn’t read him, and she hated that.
He didn’t deny her words. How could he?
“What you said before…” She pressed her lips together and could still taste him. “About us. About all of the stuff we did together…was that true?”
“I told you to stay away.”
“Was that true?”
“You should have listened to me.” He shoved away from the car. Turned and seemed to sweep his gaze around the lot. “We could have been watched.”
Like she cared about anyone watching her at that moment. “We were lovers. That was why you came to the hospital that first day. We were involved.”
“Thought we already established that I wasn’t the type of guy you’d get involved with. You weren’t the type to screw dangerous men.” He whirled toward her. “Whatever we were…it’s all ancient history.”
Not to her, it wasn’t.
“You need to let the past go.”
She couldn’t. “Ramsey…”
“Drive away. Do not come back.”
Well, that was brutal. They’d kissed and he was still kicking her to the curb. She slid off the car. Tried to ignore the fact that her knees did a little jiggle. “Was I seeing someone else?”
“What. The. Fuck?”
Her chin lifted. So what if his voice had just gone all low and lethal? He would never physically hurt me. And that thought was as crazy as everything else that had happened that night. He was a crime boss. He’d threatened to break a guy’s hand just moments before. How the hell could she know if Ramsey would physically hurt her? She should be absolutely terrified of the man. Yet, she wasn’t. “Was I involved exclusively with you or was there someone else?”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Grim. Flat. “You do not want to push me right now.”
She did because she had no choice. He didn’t understand what she was facing. “If there was someone else, I need to know about him.”
He backed up a step. Another. “You…and some other jerkoff? Not really a picture I want in my head. Not something you should be throwing at me.”
“So you are at least confirming that you and I were involved?”
His arms crossed over his chest. “You ever wonder why you forgot that lost time?”
Of course, she did. “Yes. Every single day.”
He looked away. “Maybe it’s because you wanted to forget what happened.”
Bull. “Retrograde amnesia is a tricky bitch. After a traumatic brain injury…” Like she’d had. “Some people permanently lose years of memories. I lost six months.” One doctor had said she should consider herself lucky. “I don’t want my memories gone. No one wants to miss a giant chunk of life.”