by Monroe, Evie
There she was, on the barstool beside me, making out like crazy with this tall, probably late-forty-something guy with a ponytail. He already had his hand down the front of her dress, in front of everyone. She had her legs spread, and he was grinding his package against her.
Nice. I knew where that was headed.
She didn’t break her suction-hold on the guy’s mouth. She just muttered something with his tongue, still down her throat. Great. Nice talking to you, too, Martie.
Truthfully, I hadn’t expected I’d be taking Martie home. I knew she’d probably find a man and leave me high and dry, and her babysitter would have to spend the night at her house watching Lucas.
I didn’t mind it. Well, not that much. I just wished she would’ve waited a little longer to find that guy. We hadn’t even gotten on the dance floor, yet.
Sighing, I fended off yet another loser that offered to buy me a drink and whirled on the barstool, feeling kind of out of place. I was definitely buzzed, but not enough that I’d go out on the dance floor alone. The ratio of men to women was skewed in favor of men, and men were lined up around the perimeter of the floor, watching the women dance. And even with the alcohol in my blood, my blister still hurt.
Then I noticed the two ridiculously hot bad boys, across the room. They were standing there, shoulder to shoulder, pool cues in their hands. They looked effortlessly cool. The darker-haired one leaned over and mentioned something to the blond, and he grinned his perfect white smile.
Both of them were looking at me.
Bikers. Gorgeous. Fucking. Bikers. You’d think I’d have been sick of bikers by now, but I’d always been turned on by a hot, jacked, leathered up, tattooed guy. No doubt I got that from my mom. No one from the Fury, though. They were all a bunch of assholes who bowed down to my father.
These guys must have been bikers, from another town. I knew they weren’t Fury, but they didn’t have kuttes on, so they might not have been in any club. But they were the hottest guys in the place. For sure.
I wasn’t an idiot. As Slade’s daughter, I was one of the few girls allowed in the clubhouse during their church. I’d spent a lot of time surrounded by men, especially big, tough, macho men. I knew exactly how they ticked. How to get them interested. How to make them beg.
I gave them a small, seductive smile, and looked away, pretending to be bored.
That amused them. When I looked back, I knew they were buying it, hook, line and sinker. I scraped my top lip over my bottom lip and flipped my hair.
The blond one said something, and the other one nodded, eyes never leaving me. I could tell the blond was the one who was used to getting play. He was magazine-cover beautiful, his features like a young Brad Pitt’s. Just absolutely stunning, the kind of man who looked too beautiful to be real.
But it was the other guy that made my heart skip a beat.
I had no trouble looking at blondie. But there was something in the other guy’s eyes that was much more exciting and devilish. He was hot, too, but not classically so, with penetrating, dark amber eyes. Blondie had boyish features; but the other? All man. Dark, dangerous, and hellishly masculine. And geez . . . those biceps could have their own zip code.
He drew me in, hook, line and sinker.
But wouldn’t you know it?
It was the blond guy who pushed away from the pool table and started to walk toward me. I shifted in my seat, wondering if I said I wasn’t interested, I’d end up turning them both off.
Because I really wanted the other one to talk to me.
He was hanging back, though, drinking his beer, like he was so much better than me. I felt a shot of disappointment as a dark-haired girl waltzed up and started to talk to him, lifting up on her tiptoes and whispering against his ear, staking her claim. Bitch. He slinked his arm around her waist, and it was like a punch in my gut.
Next to me, Martie let out a moan as Mullet Man squeezed her tit harder. Geez, get a room, girl, I thought, as the blond guy finally sidled next to me. He leaned in, and he smelled like a combination of motor oil and soap. Like my daddy.
That was strike one.
“Hey,” he said, motioning me forward so he could speak into my ear. When I got close, his hot breath tickled my cheek. “I think you should go home with me.”
I was four shots in and feeling pretty brazen. But I’d never be that brazen to just leave with a guy I just met. I decided to play it coy. “And why is that?”
He shrugged easily. “Because you want to. You know you do.”
I laughed. “Does that line usually work for you?”
“Yeah. Always.” He put his beer down and stretched, lifting his hands over his head. “Face it. You and I are the hottest motherfuckers in this place. Everyone here is just waiting for us to get together.”
God, he was so over-confident. Like my dad. He said stupid things, and people just went along with it, like it was the way of the world. Like I didn’t have any say in the matter.
Strike two.
“It doesn’t always work for you,” I countered, looking away. Over his shoulder, I could see the girl, whispering into his friend’s ear. I felt a surge of jealousy, because I wanted him, not this jerk in front of me.
He let out a chuckle, amused. “All right.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jet.”
“Jeff?”
“No, Jet.”
“Jet?” I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of name is that? Are you a biker, Jet?”
He nodded. “Is it that obvious? And you are?”
Well, that made sense. The men in my daddy’s club all had tough-sounding names. I shook his hand lightly. “Cait.”
“You alone, Cait?”
I motioned to Martie, who was still making out with pony-boy over there, her face red and sweaty. “Pretty much, now.”
His eyes wandered to the epic PDA for about a moment before he slid next to me, closer, on the bar. “What are you drinking?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you’re drinking.”
“Jake. Get me two Coors,” he said. Considering his familiarity with the bartender, he was a regular. He probably picked up women here every night. A hot biker like him, he probably had his choice of women. Maybe I should’ve been honored he’d chosen me to hit on.
But I still couldn’t stop looking at his friend. His friend, who was completely focused on someone else.
Jet said, “So where you from?”
“Right here in Aveline Bay. Grew up here.”
He looked surprised. “I’ve never seen you around here, Cait. I’d remember you.”
I smiled. He’d been moving closer and closer, a predatory look on his face. Soon, he’d be close enough to lick me. I needed to put the brakes on. “Jet. It’s really nice meeting you. But I’m not interested.”
He gave me a confused look. “What are you, a lesbian?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re cute. I’m just . . . I’m here to have fun. Not go home with a guy.”
That didn’t scare him away. He nodded. “Fair enough. Then let’s have fun. What kind of fun are you looking for?”
I pointed at Martie. “Not that.” At least, not with him. “I guess we could dance.”
“Dance? Come on.”
He took his beer in one hand, my wrist in the other, and pulled me off the barstool. I winced as my blister rubbed against my heel. He led me to the makeshift dance floor on the other side of the pool tables, by the jukebox.
I figured, why the hell not? I didn’t have Martie. The guy that made me weak in the knees was obviously going to leave with that other girl. So, I guessed I might as well try to have some fun with Mr. Beautiful-and-Knows-It. Even if he’d likely try, again and again, to get me to go home with him.
As we passed the pool tables, we also passed his friend. He leaned over and said something like, “Your turn to pay the tab tonight, Drake.”
Drake.
That was his name.
Drake’s eyes settled on me, and I immedia
tely felt warmth between my legs. His eyes were like honey. I let out a gasp as his lips twisted into a smile.
And then the girl with him said something, and whatever spell had existed between us was broken. My spirits sank as Jet pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. We started to dance to a slow song, but about ten seconds into it, Jet’s hands dropped to my ass and he began kneading it.
Strike three.
I tried to lift his monster hands off me, but he was clinging like a jellyfish. A second later, his hands went up the back of my camisole. I wriggled away. “Would you watch it?” I said.
He backed away. “What am I doing?” he said innocently, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m just having fun.”
He tried to put his arms around me, but I stiffened. “Thanks, but . . . like I said. That’s not the kind of fun I want. It’s not going to happen. No matter how many times you ask me, Jet. I’m not going to go home with you.”
He stared at me, the amusement on his face draining away as comprehension filled in. “You’re serious?”
What, he thought I was joking before? Playing hard to get? I nodded.
I waited for the protest. But it didn’t come. I realized something behind me had caught his attention and like a two-year-old, he turned away from me and focused on the new shiny object. I looked over my shoulder at a group of flirty college girls giving him eyes.
Figures. Pretty boys like him didn’t get disappointed for long.
And my blister was screaming by now. I cringed from the pain. I didn’t care how hot they made me look. The cowboy boots were about to see the insides of a trash can, real soon.
Just then, someone put a hand on Jet’s shoulder. I looked up to see him. Drake.
If Jet hadn’t put his arms around me again, if Drake had looked at me during that moment, my knees would’ve given out.
But his focus was on Jet. He said, “You getting out of here, soon?”
Jet nodded. “One way or another,” he said. He loosened his hold on me, his eyes still plastered on the college girls.
Drake’s eyes turned to me.
And every part of my body lit on fire. Blister be damned. I didn’t need my weak knees because I felt like I was floating.
I wanted to telepathically transmit that I wasn’t with his friend. But I didn’t need to. A second later, Jet excused himself to talk to the shiny college girls, leaving me standing alone. With Drake. Time stopped. My heart palpitated. I forgot how to breathe.
“Hi,” I said, looking up at him like a shy schoolgirl. My face was probably turning stoplight-red.
My pulse skittered through my body like a bouncing ball as he extended his hand and whispered in my ear, “Hey. I’m Drake.”
His voice was low and sexy, and I felt it along every inch of my skin.
“I know. I’m Cait,” I said, taking his hand. His warm, perfect, callused hand.
“Cait,” he said, testing it out. “It’s a pleasure.”
Right then, the whole thing I’d told Jet about never going home with guys?
I changed my mind. Big-time.
My eyes couldn’t get enough of him. They just wanted to keep on drinking him in. But I managed to tear them away to look for the girl I’d seen him with. “Are you with someone?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and his eyes glinted. “Yeah. You.”
Chapter Five
Drake
I’d never thought I would witness it.
But there it was.
When the hot redhead shook her head and stepped away from Jet the first time, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I thought she was just playing hard to get.
Then she did it again.
Holy shit.
I watched them on the dance floor, pressed together, thinking he’d probably fuck her on the back of his bike, outside in the parking lot, if she even lasted that long. That was the Jet magic. And they looked good; they looked together. Two perfect people. Everyone in the bar was staring at them.
Then it happened. The moment the earth stopped. I watched as the frowning beauty lifted Jet’s roving hands off of her ass.
At first, I told myself she was playing the normal games girls played. Jet didn’t crash and burn. He was the total package. I’d been to plenty of bars over the years, from my college years in L.A. to my residency at Stanford, to my time with the Cobras . . . and one thing I’d come to learn was that certain guys had that factor that made them irresistible to women. Jet was that kind of guy. No matter what he did, he scored. And the guys admired him for that.
Then the redhead pushed him away again. No mistaking it, her face exploding with annoyance when she mouthed the word. The word I knew Jet never, ever heard.
No.
Hell. What was wrong with that girl?
Jet wasn’t a complete asshole. Even though chicks never told him to buzz off, he knew what the word meant. Anger lit up his eyes for about one second, and then they roved over to the group of available girls in the corner. He clearly wasn’t devastated.
And the redhead looked happy to get rid of him.
Huh. Maybe she was a lesbian.
No. Not her. Not possible. She just wasn’t interested in Jet. For whatever reason.
Boyfriend. Maybe she already had a boyfriend. Otherwise . . . it didn’t make sense.
It made even less sense when her eyes trailed over to me. She looked at me hopefully, as if she wanted me to save her. Or, as if she’d wished it was me instead of Jet who’d gone up to her in the first place.
Nah. That couldn’t be right.
As I sat there, trying to puzzle it out, next to me, Avery cleared her throat. “Well? Are we going to your place or not?”
I rubbed my chin, then set down my beer. “Yeah. In a minute. Let me just tell Jet we’re getting out of here.”
I disentangled myself from Avery and walked over to Jet and the girl, who were no longer pressed together, no longer dancing. They were kind of just regarding each other as if they were in the middle of a big misunderstanding. I dropped a hand on Jet’s shoulder. “You getting out of here soon?”
Jet jutted his chin out and nodded. “One way or another.” His eyes drifted toward the group of girls giving him flirtatious looks behind the redhead.
I turned my attention to the redhead. The glimpse I’d gotten at her from across the bar hadn’t deceived me. In fact, she was even hotter up close. She had a little line of freckles over the bridge of her nose. And her tits were perfect. I wanted to dip my head down between them and have a taste. My heart rate sped up.
I realized I was gawking like a teenage virgin and started to excuse myself, when Jet said, “Hey. Give me a minute.”
And he turned and left us alone and slid easily over to the group of college girls. My pulse pounded a big Yes! when their circle welcomed him, closing around him.
All right.
I knew Avery was waiting behind me. If I were any kind of gentleman, I would’ve told the redhead I had to leave.
But I wasn’t a gentleman.
I had only one thing on my mind at that moment. And that was getting closer to her. I opened my mouth to speak, but she spoke first. “Hi,” she said in a sweet, innocent voice that pushed all of my man buttons.
I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. She smelled lemony and summery and sweet. It made me think of suntan oil. “Hey. I’m Drake.”
She took my hand within her tiny, doll-like fingers and shook it, just slightly. “I know. I’m Cait.”
Cait. I’d watched this woman push people away for the past half-hour. Random men who approached her, wanting to buy her drinks. Jet, too. But she wasn’t pushing me away. There was something in her eyes that did the opposite. They locked and held onto mine, drawing me in.
And there was no way I could turn away now.
“Cait,” I said, surprised at how smooth I managed to sound, when this girl had me locked and loaded and ready to do whatever she said. “It’s a pleasure.”
&n
bsp; Her cheeks flushed, and she scraped her teeth over her bottom lip in a way that blinded me to anything else happening in the joint.
“Are you with someone?” she asked unsurely, eyes darting away from me.
Not anymore. Avery would understand. I’d always told her if she had a better option, to go with him instead of me. “Yeah. You.”
A small smile played on her lips. “Oh, really?” she said with a challenge, tossing her thick hair off her shoulder.
I thought this was too good to be true; that she was playing games and would blow me off.
But she didn’t. “So, Drake . . . you from around here?”
“L.A, originally. You?”
“I grew up in Aveline Bay. I live on the north side. So, this is a little hike. But I decided I wanted different tonight.”
“And you found it?”
She lifted her beer to her lips and took a sip. “I think so. I hope so.”
“So, what do you do, up there, on the north side?”
She gave an embarrassed little shrug. “Not much. I actually work down here. For Enterlease Rental Car. I pass here on the way home every day and have always wanted to stop in. Tonight was the night. I get the feeling you’ve never had a need to rent any cars?”
I shook my head. If I needed wheels, we just went to Hart’s garage, The Lucky Leaf, and borrowed them. But hell, if I knew I could see her, I’d have definitely stopped in at her place. “What do you do there?”
“Boring stuff. Front desk. I don’t really have a whole lot of direction to my life at this point.” Her cheeks pinked. “But what about you? What do you do? You’re a biker, too, like your friend, Lothario, over there?”
I nodded. “What? You don’t like bikers?”
She lifted her beer to her lips again and gave me a worried look. “No. What makes you think that?”
“The way you just gutted Jet. I’ve never seen him take such a beating.” I let out a little laugh.
“Oh.” She gave me a seductive smile. “Couldn’t help it. I saw something I liked better.”
Fuck. Was she talking about me?
Just then, the girls dancing behind her bumped and swayed their way into her, sending her stumbling into me. I caught her, and breathless, she thanked me. She felt damn good in my arms, that suntan-oil sweetness filling my senses, so I didn’t let her go. She clutched me back, like she didn’t want me to.