Page 147 of Tempting Venom
“It’s a bike. Across the street.” He juts his chin in that direction.
So that’s the reason he’s here—to bring back the bike I returned to him.
Typical Preston. It’s on brand for him to throw a tantrum because I didn’t accept the toy he gave me.
“It looks new.” Jenna slides her gaze between the bike and him. “Why would you need a mechanic?”
“Your car looks functional, too. Why would you?”
I suppress a smile because he’s letting his pettiness self-manifest in waves at this point. I don’t think he even realizes it, but Preston choosing to stand in front of me and blocking me like some animal marking his territory isnota coincidence.
It means he’s also unable to resist this strange pull that’s blossomed between us.
But most importantly, it means he’s almost as territorial as I am.
Almost.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” She hikes a hand on her hip. “Marcus is preoccupied with me, so you’ll have to wait your turn.”
“Preoccupied?” he repeats as he tilts his head in my direction, a manic edge creeping into his gaze. “Is that what’s going on?”
I lift a shoulder, casually wiping my hand with the rag. “As you can see.”
His eyes flash a frightening color, and his hand flexes, but as he’s about to move, I clutch his wrist and shake my head once.
The last thing I need is this menace murdering a customer in the shop. Taylor would kill me. Besides, Jenna doesn’t need to be collateral damage for Preston’s bouts of impulsive territorial acts of violence.
“Aren’t you leaving?” she says. “Wait for your turn outside like all customers.”
“Actually, I lied.” Preston’s smile turns downright evil. “I’m not a customer. I’m Marcus’s owner.”
“Owner?” she repeats incredulously as I stare at him with narrowed eyes, tapping my thumb against my middle finger.
He tilts his head to the side. “Did I stutter?”
“You can’t be someone’s owner.” She scoffs, her cheeks reddening.
“But I am.” He pulls his wrist from my grip and clutches my nape, his fingers tightening on the skin. “Marcus ismine.”
My lips part.
Did Preston actually say I’m his?
In public?
In front of a random stranger?
“And since he belongs to me, you shouldreally,seriously,comprehensivelythink carefully before attempting to flirt with him again. I might have allowed it this time, but I don’t believe in second chances. Am I making myself clear?”
Jenna’s face blanches.
It’s not really his words, but the way he said them with an unfeeling, dead tone. His features have also morphed into a deeply manic expression, exuding bloodlust that could scare anyone away.
Anyone but me, obviously, because I’m suppressing a smile.
Jenna mumbles something about sending payment later, then practically flees. The tires of her car screech as she speeds away.
“Yeah, run away,” he mutters. “I’d better not see your face here again.”
