“She told me she was single!”
Zeek gets in a few hits and has Cash up against the ring. “Come on, Cash!” I yell out loudly.
When he’s out of Zeek’s hold and gets him with a hook to the jaw, I sit back down, feeling both Freya’s and Chance’s eyes on me.
“What?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink. “I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
Finally, the fight ends without any injuries or cuts, which is all I can ask for. Gunner sits and pulls Freya onto his lap—the two of them are clearly going to hook up tonight. If the sexual tension between them gets any hotter, they might end up like a few other couples in the corners.
“So who are you going to fight?” I ask Chance, hoping that it’s not going to be Gunner. He’s huge, tall, and built like a linebacker. Chance is tall, but Gunner is even taller, clearly the biggest man in the room.
“Who do you want me to fight?” he asks, casually surveying the room.
My jaw drops. “You’re that confident you’d even let me pick out any opponent?” I ask, shaking my head at him.
“Pick me!” Freya calls out.
I should pick Gunner to teach him a lesson.
“He was meant to fight Dutch,” Gunner says, staring at me with those onyx eyes of his.
“Which one is Dutch?” I ask, and Gunner points to one of the bikers at the pool table. He’s not wearing a T-shirt, just his leather cut over smooth, inked skin and abs for days. He looks like he spends every waking hour at the gym and has the cold face of a killer.
“Maybe not him,” I mutter, and everyone laughs.
“Why not? You don’t think I could beat him?” Chance asks, looking at Dutch with a contemplative expression. “You’re not very good for my ego, Siren.”
“Someone should keep you humble,” I tease, but I sober quickly when he stands and takes off his leather cut and T-shirt, leaving him in his jeans, sitting low on his hips. My mouth is suddenly dry as I admire his body, tattoos, muscles, and that sexy ‘V’ that disappears into his pants.
“Dutch!” he calls out, his eyes still locked on mine.
“Yeah, Prez?” Dutch yells back over the music.
“Let’s get in the ring, brother.” He lowers his face, his lips barely an inch from mine. I want to taste them so badly. “I trained all these fuckers, and even though I’m older than some of them, I can still take them.” He kisses me, sliding his tongue inside my mouth. “Now, let me show you how I became president of a motorcycle club.” He heads to the ring, slides off his boots and socks, and stretches his neck from side to side.
“He’s fucking hot,” Freya pants, fanning her face. “He wasn’t even looking at me, and I was about to combust.”
I glance around at all the women, who are looking right at him, clearly feeling the same way. My gut tightens when Gia blows him a kiss, then looks directly over at me with a smirk.
“Ignore her,” Freya says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Who?” Gunner asks, glancing around.
“No one,” I reply, looking back at Chance.
Cash sits down, taking his dad’s seat. “I love it when he gets in the ring.”
“Why?” I ask, sculling the rest of my drink and then licking the salt off my lips.
“Because he used to fight all the time, but now he saves it for special occasions.” He turns to me with a charming smile. “Like showing off for a special woman he wants to impress.”
Gunner laughs, nodding his head. “Yeah, I almost feel sorry for Dutch.”
Freya arches her brow at me, and I shrug, looking back at Chance, who is bouncing on his feet, staring Dutch down. He’s fighting in his jeans without a care in the world.
He turns to me and winks before they start circling each other. “Dutch knows MMA,” Cash explains to me. “Which is why he’s a good match for Dad.”
“He’s a trained fighter?” I ask, brow furrowing.