Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Gabriel’s POV

Chapter 22: Claiming Her

The heavy bass of the music thudded through my chest as I stormed over to the bar area. My vision. narrowed until the only person I could see was Clairessa in some strange man’s grasp, fueling my anger.

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I reached them in seconds, shoving the man back with a force that sent him stumbling. “Touch her again, and you’ll regret it,” I threatened in a firm, intimidating tone.

Before Clairessa could react, I grabbed her wrist and hoisted her over my shoulder. Her yelps of protest were drowned out by the loud music and the cheering crowd, who seemed to think we were putting on some sort of show.

The man she’d been flirting with stepped forward, his stance bold, but a single deadly look from me made him falter. “She’s mine,” I growled, my tone making it clear he didn’t stand a chance.

The man raised his hands in surrender, muttering something about not wanting trouble before disappearing into the crowd.

As I carried her out of the club, her dress shifted, exposing more skin than I was comfortable with anyone else seeing. I tugged the hem of her gown down in an effort to cover her, but her squirming only made it worse, revealing even more flesh.

My possessiveness flared. Her body was for my eyes only.

When her wriggling didn’t stop, I gave her a firm spank on her round, enticing backside.

“Ouch!” she yelped, half–teasing, half–giggling. “Why did you do that?”

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Chapter 22: Claiming Her

“If you’d stop wriggling like a schoolgirl, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“Wait a minute, Mr. Storm. Is that what you’re into? Should I call you Professor now?” she teased, laughing as she squirmed, her legs kicking lightly.

I gritted my teeth, fighting to suppress the effect her words had on me. Thankfully, we reached the car. Dario stood by the open door, clearly fighting to keep his expression neutral. Ignoring her protests, I set her down inside the car, then slid in beside her.

“You’re out of control,” she fumed, shoving at my chest. “You don’t own me!”

At first, I didn’t respond, letting her vent, but when her shoving persisted, I turned to her. My gaze was sharp and commanding, freezing her mid–motion. “Throw another tantrum, and you’ll regret it,” I warned.

Instantly her defiance melted into vulnerability. “Why do you care?” she asked, her voice softer now. “It’s not like I matter to you.”

I sighed, leaning back against the leather seat. If only she knew how much her presence disrupted my carefully controlled life. “You shouldn’t share your body with just any man.”

She fell silent, retreating to the other side of the seat. Her arms crossed defensively, but the moment didn’t last. “You’re right,” she admitted softly, her voice fragile. “My ex cheated on me… and I just want to forget everything, but I can’t. The pain… it’s still so raw.”

I was used to seeing was gone, replaced by someone raw and real. “I’m sorry about what he did to you,” I said gently. “But it’s

her purse. “Then why won’t he stop calling and texting me all day?” she asked, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her messages, stopping on one from

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22: Claiming Her

‘Cheating Jerk–Don’t Pick.‘

help but smile, just a little. She certainly had a

I reached for her

muttered. “Why can’t they just be satisfied with the woman they claim to love? Answer that, Mr. Storm.”

I fought hard to keep buried. “Clairessa, men and women can both hurt each other. It’s not always just the men. But when

been hurt like that,” she scoffed. “Not everyone’s as cold–hearted as you.

words hit harder than

nearly destroyed me. Angelique had shattered my belief in love, leaving me determined never to let anyone close again. But Clairessa was pulling me toward dangerous territory, and I

he’s made his choice. You have to let him go,” I said, trying to steer her away from the heartbreak

away from the heartbreak she clung to. “But

her–and maybe myself–that she didn’t need to lower herself like that. But watching her in pain did something to

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22: Claiming Her

brows. “Men do it all the time, and no one bats an eye. But when a woman does it, she’s

called a whore.”

replied, growing impatient. She was twisting my words.

time. Don’t deny

anything,” I retorted, trying to stay

act like you’re better than the women you sleep with. But you’re all the same–cheaters,

who betrayed her. Though guilt swirled inside me for speaking to her in such a condescending manner the last time. But it was best to push her away before emotions escalated between us. Everything I had done since I met her was for her

generalizing and projecting her pain onto me, and it was starting to grate.

If I refuse to stop? What would you do? Punish me?” she whispered, her voice daring, her eyes

her for her defiance, for the way she challenged

house,” I said, desperate

18

Claiming

home,” she sighed. “Jess has friends over. She asked me

your friend from the club?” I

“Yes, that Jess.”

it your apartment?”

is. But it’s bigger than hers, so she uses it for

loved the late night parties and

don’t know about me,” she murmured, as I signaled Dario to change

at my Manhattan penthouse, we drove into the underground garage. Clairessa shifted in the backseat, lifting her head slightly as I