His Worst Behavior

Chapter Eight

Author's Note: 

After reading a few comments, I feel the need to clarify some things. This isn't a lovey-dovey book. I am trying to steer clear of the stereotypes. You're supposed to question Roarke and Chloe's relationship - if they should be together at all, if she is having Stockholm Syndrome. 

This a dark, questionable relationship. I'm sorry if you thought differently, but if you're still interested in this book, drop a comment! I love reading them! 

Got any favorite characters?

                                                     ~ Lissa

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CHAPTER EIGHT - BLOODBATH

The celebration smelled like earth and sweat.

From bagpipes to drums, music filled the clearing and partially-naked bodies moved together, frantic and wild. Voices echoed in the trees, making it seem like hundreds of people were there, but the celebration was actually smaller than before. Two pigs were being slowly turned over separate fires, apples in their mouths. 

I kept flashing back to the day when I met Roarke, being tied to the tree and all. However, this time, I was comfortably relaxed on animal furs strewn across the ground. I was curled into Roarke's side, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek. He was dragging his fingers through my hair, his eyes slightly closed.

My eyes skimmed the clearing, meeting multiple pairs of eyes. Several pack members were still curious about me, especially the women. 

I spotted Josephine and Blake dancing together, looking in love, like always. It was nice having Josephine over earlier at the house - I didn't realize how much I missed talking to a woman my age. I liked her. I felt comfortable asking her questions or going to her for advice about Roarke.

Then, I saw a flash of red from the corner of my eye, taking my attention away from the happy couple. 

Scarlett.

She was swaying her hips and twirling her hands in the air. Her head fell back as her eyes slipped shut and she moved to the music. Her red hair brushed her lower back and her skin glistened with sweat. She was wearing a bra and a matching skirt - she knew how to look effortlessly sexy.

As soon as her eyes caught mine, the corners of her red lips quirked upwards. Then, she flipped her hair and beckoned me towards her with a crook of her finger.

"I'm going to go dance," I said, sitting upright. "I'll be right back."

Roarke instantly grabbed me. "Dance with who?"

"Scarlett."

His eyes flickered over to the devious redhead. "I don't want you around her. Not until she loses that self-righteous attitude." 

"Maybe I can help," I lied, having no intention of persuading Scarlett into changing. I respected her attitude. Roarke pinched his lips together, an unsure expression on his face. I flattened my hand against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "I will be fast. I just want to say hey."

Silence drifted between us.

"Please?"

I finally received a nod - an unhappy nod - but it was a nod. I rose to my feet and walked over to Scarlett, feeling his eyes burning into my back, or to be rather blunt, my ass. 

When I reached Scarlett, she wasted no time grabbing my arm and bringing me close to dance. I matched her pace, following her lead. Her brown eyes glinted, before she grabbed my waist, dropped down to a crouch, then straightened very sensually.