PANTY RAID

80| Sucker for you

Dayo's anger turned up a notch when he noticed Kam holding his girlfriend around the waist. A string of furious curses flew from his mouth.

How dare he touch her? The guy had some fucking nerve to touch his girl like that. A slow burn of anger swirled in his stomach, and his hands flexed, itching to hit him until the fact that she belonged to him was hammered in his head.

The rage on his face must have been palpable because Kam quickly released his hold on her. That's right. Back the fuck off!

"What are you doing here?" She had barely finished her sentence before he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the dance floor, shooting Kam a thunderous glare.

He pulled her down the neon-lighted hallway, past the doors leading up to the Vip rooms and the end of the hall, steering her into a dim empty room.

He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying to control the anger that was threatening to consume him.

She whirled to face him, hands on her hips. "What the hell!"

He stared at her for a long, tense moment, the line of his jaw shut. "He had his hands on you," he whispered viciously, stating the obvious.

She jumped at the harshness of his voice, and he pulled her against his chest. "Has his hand been around your waist the entire night?" he said in an icy voice.

She shook her head with guilt. "Kam was only helping me, I swear."

"And the only way he could help you was by touching you, right? Do I look fucking stupid to you?" he snarled.

She pulled herself away from his grasp. "Dayo, it's not that big of a deal." He took a deep breath and tried to rein in his anger.

"Really? It's not that big of a deal that my girlfriend came to the club without me, dressed like this," he said, waving his hand at her dress.

"And it's also not that big of a deal that a guy had his fucking hands on her body and was staring at her like she was his fucking salvation."

Her eyes flared with anger as she crossed her arms over her chest, drawing his gaze to the cleavage spilling from the flimsy bit of material that was cross-crossed over her chest.

He grounded his teeth. "There was no way in hell he could have kept his hand to himself when your fucking tits are hanging out like that."

She glanced down at her dress and pulled at the hem as though the material could magically stretch a few more inches. "I don't think you get to dictate what I wear, Dayo. I'm not your property."

He felt an influx of anger. "You're not my property but you're my girlfriend, dammit!"

"Do you really have to expose your body like this? This thing barely covers anything, one fucking pull, and your fucking tits are out," he roared.

She frowned and looked away, a hint of embarrassment clouding her eyes.

"That's my business. I can wear whatever I want, no one gets to decide how I dress, Dayo. Not even you," she said defiantly.

Frustration clawed through him. "It's my fucking business because you're mine, Eniola. And I don't like the idea of other men lusting after what's mine."