"It was a wonder you two weren't fucking, with how close you were dancing," Vaughn bites out, the coldness in his voice sending chills through my body.

And the menacing look in his eyes makes me cower and start to regret what I've done.

I turn to look at the man who just danced with me. He groans in pain, trying to get up with difficulty.

"But as you can see, it was just a dance," I say defiantly, matching his glare as I make my point. I'm surprised that I can still talk back to him. Girl, it might be the effect of the alcohol.

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "Did you enjoy that dance?" His eyes feel like they are piercing through me.

"Yes, I did," I say firmly, which is almost true. Despite feeling crushed from the way he ignored me while making out with some girl, that dance was at least something that could make me let out all of my frustrations.

Besides, did he forget that he seemed to enjoy his company as well? That hot cheerleader. Perhaps, if he hadn't thrown that steamy make-out scene in my face, I wouldn't have danced with the old man.

His jaw tightens even more, and I gulp.

Warning. A very angry Vaughn is someone you wouldn't want to cross path with.

He grabs my arm and drags me away from the dance floor. I yelp, unable to let go from his grip. I have no choice but to follow him as we make our way toward the exit of the club. When I pass by the orchestra group, I notice that they are all gawking at me -- one guy even has his beer bottle stopping in mid-air before it can even get to his mouth, which hangs open.

Except for Stacey, who looks at me with a knowing smile on her face and mischief in her eyes. I shoot her a look that says 'Please, save me', but she mouthes 'Good luck' instead, winking at me.

Once we are outside the club, I feel the cold night air on my skin, the wind blowing through my hair.

"What are you doing?" I shout while he keeps dragging me, and I can see that we're walking to his car in the parking lot.

"Getting you out from that damn place," he bites out, and I wince from the harsh tone he uses when he talks to me.

Once we reach his car, he puts me into the passenger seat before he settles himself in the driver's seat.

I stare at him in disbelief. "What now? You're just going to kidnap me?" I watch as he starts the engine.

"Kidnap?" He scoffs before looking at me, his expression still showing that he's still very much angry, like he can break anything getting on his way now. "I'm fucking taking you home, Melanie."

I'm lost for words. The car pulls off from the parking lot, heading to the road.

The ride feels like torture. The air feels goddamn tense, and Vaughn looks like he's trying hard not to lose control on the road as the car speeds off. He grips the steering wheel hard that his knuckles turn white. And my fingers clutch around my seatbelt the entire time. I'm literally praying that we'll survive this ride. An accident can be another nightmare.

Once the car stops in the parking lot at my house, I storm inside, cussing, starling the maid who opens the door. I hear another gasp from her as Vaughn enters the foyer with long and heavy strides. She yelps and abruptly walks off, probably already sensing that a huge fight is going to happen between us so that she decides to give us some privacy. Or she may want to eavesdrop later, since what will happen next can be interesting to watch, just like those scenes in TV dramas.

I try not to think about the latter. At this moment and in my present mood, I wouldn't think twice to fire her.

"What the fuck that just happened back there in the club?" Vaughn starts; his voice booms.

Well, here we go. This is going to be a long night.

I snap my body around and glare at him. "I've already told you about that. No one forbids nobody to dance in a club."

"I see." He scoffs. "The naive Melanie here tries to make some point. Have you ever thought that you're young enough for that sick old dude to be considered as his daughter?"

I bite my lower lip after hearing that fact. I can't help but feel disgusted at myself now.

"You didn't seem to have that in mind, huh?" he hisses. "Unless you were considering him as a sugar daddy and chose to ignore that he might already have a fucking wife and children back home, who wouldn't have any clue that he was playing around with some chick."

My eyes widen after I hear those harsh words. It cuts me deep because he's talking like I'm a slut. And because I know that he's right. Even though I know damn well that I'm not, I acted like one. While I was dancing provocatively with that old man, I didn't even check whether he had a ring on his finger or not.

"Did you ever think about that?" Vaughn continues. "Did you ever think about what you did with those clothes you're wearing?" He eyes me with a mixture of desire, irritation and hurt. The combination of emotions doesn't make sense to me. "With those looks. That hair. And that face," his voice softens at the end of the sentence, sending shivers down my spine.

Now, I feel like an idiot. I didn't think about any of those things back in the club. Because all I was thinking about was him.

About him ignoring me and making me feel worse for pushing him away. About how I felt like I didn't deserve him anymore. About how he made out with another girl so easily, like he never gave me kisses that swept off my feet.

My eyes sting as I look down in shame, and my heart breaks even more because now he even thinks that I'm like a slut.

"Look," he says, making me look up at him. His eyes suddenly soften, like he realizes that he's being too hard on me. "I'm sure Jake would have done the same."

I stare at him for a while, watching the guilt on his face before a scoff escapes my lips. Right. "So, this is about being a bodyguard again, isn't it? You actually felt nothing when you watched me dancing with another man," I finally let out the emotions building up inside me. I may push him away if I do this, but hell with that. I'm already a mess.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What about you, Vaughn?" I ask, anger evident in my voice. "Did you ever think about what you did while you were making out with that girl from the cheer team?"

He scrutinizes me and then scoffs. "Why? Are you jealous?"

Shit. I don't care about my pride anymore. "No, but you haven't answered the damn question here, Vaughn. Did it feel good to just make out with any girl you wanted? Maybe you were thinking about her when you kissed me. I never thought that you could use me to your advantage when Jake isn't around." That's a sick counter I just threw at him, but at least, my soul feels better like it's just been released from its cage.

"Melanie," Vaughn hisses with such venom in his voice. His face hardens, anger emitting from his body like his blood is boiled. "You might want to watch your words carefully."

No, I won't. I don't know whether I should thank or curse the alcohol for what will happen after this.

"You're a liar. You said you're not playing around, when in fact, you are. Of course. You're too used to having girls tossed on your feet all your fucking life."

"Enough," Vaughn growls.

"I hate you, Vaughn. I hate you."

"Enough!" he roars, making me stop talking.

And I just realize that I'm panting now from saying all those accusations to him.

He grabs my arms and corners me against the wall. My heart is beating rapidly. I see the fire in his eyes as he locks me with his body, his hands circling around my wrists on the wall, a firm grip but not enough to hurt me.

"Now, just answer my damn question," he hisses. "Why did you do that?"

I stare at him like he's crazy. Well, he looks like that now, because of this crazy bitch.

"Why did you dance with that man, so closely, like you wanted me to rip his head off in front of everyone?" he asks in a dangerously low voice.

His question makes my heart scream, like it needs to be heard in order to survive. Tears brim my eyes as the truth hits me hard, and I look away.

"Because," I choke in tears, the alcohol effect getting the best of my insecurity. "Because I needed to feel wanted." My voice is shaking. When I don't hear any response, I face him again and find him staring at me with a questioning look. "I wanted to feel like you wanted me," I whisper brokenly.

He leans closer and presses his body against mine, his cheek touching mine and his breath tickling my ear. "And what makes you think I didn't want you?" he whispers, making my heart thump wildly inside my ribs.

"I couldn't help but think so when you were making out with that girl," I stutter.

He lets out a soft chuckle, which I find sexy. Somebody, please help me.

"Thanks for confirming that you were being jealous," he whispers.

I want to yell at him in protest but gasp when his mouth trails on the skin below my ear.

"What about now?" he asks. "What do you think you're doing to me? How do you think you make me feel right now?" He nibbles at my neck, earning another gasp from me.

Oh, God. How can I answer him in this state? I can't even think anymore.

I gulp, not ready for whatever he plans to do to me.

He looks me in the eyes, our foreheads touching, our noses grazing each other. "You want me to want you?"

I'm drowning again in those amber eyes, which are now filled with so many emotions I can't explain. Some make me flatter, but some are as strong as to make me scared.

"I don't think I've ever wanted a girl as I want you right now." And with that said, he captures my lips in a fierce kiss.