With Mark ahead of me, I quickly give her a severe warning look. Her brows plunge, but she doesn’t have time to react before Mark sticks his hand in her face. “Young lady! What a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry, Zack here didn’t tell me your name. But I’m Mark Seinburg. I just had the pleasure of meeting your boyfriend here not too long ago, and he’s quite the catch, but I must say, you’re much more impressive.” Addie opens her mouth, but nothing escapes, her equilibrium thrown off from the sudden intrusion, alongside Mark calling me Zack and claiming her as my girlfriend. “Addie,” I say. Both eyes snap to me. “Her name is Addie. Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to intrude. I told you about Mark here already, he’s the guy I met at work.” I side-eye Mark, letting him think I told Addie we met under different circumstances than we did. He smiles wider at that. Gentlemen’s clubs aren’t necessarily a secret, but they’re definitely not a place you go to visit when you have a beautiful wife or girlfriend waiting for you at home. At least if you’re not a narcissistic prick. “Oh, uh, hi Mark. Pleasure to meet you,” hand in her own. I feel so many things right now. Namely, the urge to fucking kiss her for going along with something she doesn’t understand. She’s definitely getting rewarded later. But I also feel the possessive beast rise. Not only to claim Addie as my own, but to protect her from the real monster. The moment Mark registers Addie’s beautiful smoky voice, his eyes droop. And if I see his khakis start to tent, I will kill him here and now. She glances at their entwined hands with a hint of trepidation, but she smooths her face out quickly. Mark doesn’t notice her subtly wiping her hand on her jeans when he lets it go, but I do. “The pleasure is mine. You have a beautiful name. What 1s it short for?” She clears her throat, throwing me another what the fuck glance. “Adeline.” Mark’s face is animated as he marvels over her response. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” A red blush stains her cheeks prettily. She pretends to act bashful, but I can feel the nervous energy emanating from her in waves. My little mouse doesn’t do well in social situations, especially when she’s thrown in one unprepared. “Alright, Mark. Let’s leave my girl to get back to work.” Her eyes narrow into slits briefly when I say my girl. I subtly quirk a brow, daring her to defy me. She knows I’m not saying it for Mark’s benefit. She’s going to hear me call her my girl for a long fucking time. she finally says, clasping Mark’s