“You know that’s bullshit,” Smokey said.
“He’s got the hots for that chick working for Owens at the nursery,” Tank said.
“The one from Blue’s Belly,” Blade added.
Smokey laughed. “You’re dating a citizen? How the fuck didn’t I know?”
“There’s nothing to know,” Rags snapped. “And I’m not dating anyone.”
“You sure looked pretty dressed up leaving here a couple of nights ago.” Tank laughed.
“Fuck you.” Rags grabbed the waiting shot of Jack and tossed it back.
One of the prospect’s jobs was knowing every member’s drink and having it ready the second they walked in.
Smokey picked up a bottle of Coors and took a long pull. “So where did you go?”
“Why’s that anyone’s fuckin’ business?” Rags motioned Hog for another.
“The real question is was she a good lay or bad?” Blade grinned.
“The way you were dressed, the bitch’s pussy shoulda been the best you ever had.” Tank chuckled.
Rags shoved off the bar, fists clenched. “Show some fuckin’ respect or we’re gonna have a problem.”
“Lay off,” Throttle said, stepping in. “She’s a decent woman.”
The grim set of Tank’s mouth eased. “I didn’t know she meant something.”
Blade and Smokey mumbled in agreement.
“Whatever.” Rags grabbed his shot and walked away.
The cold night air hit him hard as he stepped outside. He downed the whiskey, then hurled the glass against the brick wall.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
Images of Casey flooded back: standing in her doorway, arms crossed, determined as hell. She’d told him no and meant it, and that was what burned him. Still did.
Two days. Two fuckin’ days and she hadn’t left his head. It wasn’t just memory. It was want, raw and unspent, clawing at him every time he went still. He wasn’t used to being turned down. And he sure as hell wasn’t used to wanting a woman more after she walked away.
What the hell’s her problem anyway? She gave me signals she wanted more.The way she kissed him back, then stopped. And then nothing. Fear crept in, and he didn’t know what the hell was going on with her.
“Damn,” he hissed, rubbing the side of his face.
If she needed space, he’d give it to her. If she wasn’t interested, he’d move on. There were plenty of chicks who tripped over themselves to get to him.
But he wantedher. The truth sat heavy in his chest, undeniable and unwelcome: Walking away from Casey wasn’t going to be easy.
Not even close.
A hoodrat, who looked vaguely familiar, smiled at him when he stepped back into the main room. She leaned against the bar like she belonged there wearing tight jeans, a low-cut top, and dark hair falling to her shoulders. She came to a lot of the club parties. Easy. Familiar. Exactly the kind of woman who usually fixed his problems.
“Hey, sexy,” she said as he approached the bar. “I haven’t seen you at the last few parties. You’re not taking a break, are you?” Her blue eyes dropped from his face to his chest to his crotch then snapped back up. She winked.
“Been busy,” he muttered.
She pushed off the bar and pressed into him, as her fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt, mouth brushing his jaw.