Tease Page 2

  My face grew hot all the way to my ears. It wasn’t like me to get all flustered over a guy checking me out. It must be how totally out of my element I was here.

  “What’s wrong? You look funny. Who do you keep checking out?”

  “No one.” I shook my head, and then stopped, my fingers flying to my temples as I willed the room to stop spinning.

  Annie looked around the room searchingly, clearly not believing me. “Ahh.” I stole a glance over my shoulder, following her gaze with a sinking feeling. Yep. She’d spotted him. Who else would I be looking at in this place? There weren’t many options. “Him again, huh?”

  “What?” I played dumb.

  “Oh. C’mon. Don’t try to act like you haven’t been checking him out. Of course you have. He’s the hottest thing in here.”

  I shrugged and took another sip. “Fine. I noticed him. But he’s not my type.”

  “Loser biker dude or not, he’s every woman’s type. At least I’m betting between the sheets he is.” She giggled and the sound grated on my nerves.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in finding out.” I took a long gulp. “He’s probably in some biker gang.”

  She twisted in her chair to survey him more fully. “Bet he’s good in bed though. Could teach those college boys we’re used to a thing or two, huh?” She elbowed me in the ribs. “I wouldn’t mind giving him a go.”

  “Aren’t you here for Noah?” I reminded her, annoyed at the level of interest in her voice. Somehow I had forgotten just how free she was with her . . . er, charms. Even my reputation paled in comparison to hers.

  “Noah’s busy right now.” She wiggled her fingers in a little wave at Hot Biker Boy.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed, grabbing for her hand and missing. Scowling, I tried again and caught her fingers this time.

  “Making a new friend, I hope. What’s the harm in meeting him?” She yanked her hand free.

  “Noah is watching,” I warned.

  Annie faced forward again and waved at Noah as if she hadn’t just been flirting across the room at some stranger. “I’ll just tell him I was signaling him for you.”

  “Liar,” I snapped.

  “It’d be good for you. Never thought I’d have to say this, but you need to loosen up.”

  A shadow fell over our table and a deep voice that sounded like it smoked a carton a day asked, “Looks like you girls need a refill on that pitcher.”

  Looking up, I felt a stab of both disappointment and relief. It wasn’t hot Biker Boy. No, this guy could be his grandfather in a not so kind future.

  Annie brought her cup to her lips, her hushed “eww” for my ears alone. She stared straight ahead at the stage, clearly leaving me to deal with this on my own.

  “No, thanks, we’re g-good.” I cringed at the slight slur of my words and set my cup down. I let having a designated driver lull me into a sense of safety. My mistake.

  He pulled a chair out at our table and flipped it around. Straddling it, he sank down, his bulging belly pushing against his stained shirt that peeked out from his patch-emblazoned vest. “Well, I can see you’re good.” He leered back and forth between me and Annie and I wondered if he honestly thought himself even remotely appealing. Annie continued to act like he wasn’t even there, staring straight ahead at the stage, bobbing her head to the music. “Real good,” he added.

  “Look, we’re just here to—”

  “Name is Walt.” He leaned forward, rocking on the front legs of the chair.

  I fixed a tight smile on my face. “Walt.” Deep breath. “We’re really just here to listen to our friends.” I motioned to the stage. “We’re not looking for company.”

  He buried his fingers in his thick beard, scratching deep. “Sure you are. A girl that looks as good as you is always looking for company.”

  I winced, wondering how to explain that I wasn’t looking for his company.

  He brought his chair closer, the four legs hopping over the wood floor with sharp whacks. Now I could smell his breath, rancid as rotting eggs. This close I could even detect bits of food in his beard. And what really sucked is that he just kept coming closer. The man had no concept of personal space.

  “Really, Walt, we’re not here for—”

  He dropped his hand on my thigh. I gasped and jumped a little as his big, meaty paw squeezed me through my jeans. Peeling his hand off, I dropped it on the tabletop. His friends at the table beside us hooted with laughter.

  Even Walt chuckled. “That’s okay, sugar tits. You’ll warm up to me.” He brushed a hand along my short hair. “Never had complaints before.”

  This guy was all charm. I wanted to ask if these uncomplaining females had been conscious but bit back my reply. “No, really.” I slapped at his hand and shook my head, starting to get angry. The skin at the back of my neck pulled tight. I hated that feeling. It reminded me of when I was fifteen and stupid—someone who ignored all the signs and warning bells, dismissing them with the naiveté that nothing wrong could ever happen.

  Well, I wasn’t fifteen anymore, and I didn’t ignore warning bells anymore either. And I was hearing them with old Walt right now.

  But no more. I grabbed the pitcher and dumped what was left of it in Walt’s lap.

  He lurched from his seat with a curse, sending the chair clattering on its side.

  Annie laughed, her hands flying to her mouth—not that that did much to cover up her hyena hoot.

  I scooted away in my chair, still wary, especially at the sudden rush of red to Walt’s face. His gaze jerked from his soaking-wet crotch to the table full of his friends and the color in his cheeks deepened. They were laughing harder now. He huffed like an enraged bull, his chest swelling like he was about to erupt.

  The music ground to a halt. Noah hopped down from the stage. “Annie?” He looked from her to me in concern. “What’s going on?”

  Walt’s gaze sharpened and narrowed on Noah. The biker’s beady blue eyes brightened as if he was about to devour an especially tasty snack. He stepped up to Noah, bumping his bigger barrel chest into Noah’s slight torso and sending him staggering back a step. “These bitches belong to you?”

  Annie gasped. Noah’s wide eyes shot to me and Annie before looking back at the biker who outweighed him by at least one hundred pounds. Before he could react, Walt swung.

  I winced at the hard smack of bone on bone. Noah fell back on the table, sliding along the surface and hitting the floor with a crash of flailing limbs.

  Annie screamed. The other three members of Noah’s band surrounded him and tugged him to his feet. Instantly Walt’s friends shot to their feet and closed ranks.

  “What did you do?” Annie snarled at me as the shadow of a half dozen bikers fell over us.

  I shook my head helplessly. My stomach pitched and bile surged in my throat.

  “Picked the wrong bar,” Walt declared, focusing all his attention on Noah. What little was visible of his lips amid his scraggly beard curved wide. He reached out and gathered two fistfuls of Noah’s nice button-down. “Now I’m gonna fuck you up, boy.”

  Oh. Crap.

  Chapter 2

  NO SOONER HAD THE words left Walt’s mouth and it was on.

  Shouts erupted and the place broke into chaos. Walt and his crew swarmed Noah and his hapless friends. Annie’s screams rocked my ears. Glass shattered and chairs and tables flew. I staggered, getting jostled in the sudden press of bodies. An elbow caught me in the eye. I cried out at the sharp jab and went down, dark spots dancing in my vision as feet stomped all around me. I clenched my teeth against the pain and curved into a small ball, clutching my face.

  A hand clamped around my arm and yanked me up. Suddenly I was off my feet and being carried. Blinking, I focused on the guy who was carrying me. Hot Biker Boy.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “Getting you out of there before you get trampled.” I shivered at the first sound of his voice. It was deep and throaty and matched him p
erfectly. Goose bumps broke out over my skin.

  I twisted my head around to assess the chaos. What about Annie? And the others? “My friends!”

  He shook his head, his mouth pressed in a grim line.

  The image of Annie getting crushed beneath biker boots flashed through my panicked mind. Desperate, I hit his impossibly hard chest. “You have to help—”

  “You’re lucky I got you out of there. I can’t carry all of you.”

  I squirmed in his arms, determined to go back for Annie and the others. I couldn’t leave them! “Let me down.”

  An air horn blared long and hard across the air. The kind that made your ears bleed. Everything fell silent in the buzzing echo of that noise. Everyone froze—even Biker Boy.

  “Enough!”

  My gaze flew to the owner of that gravelly voice. A man stood on top of the bar, a shotgun in one hand and the air horn in the other. “I’m not having my bar trashed tonight! Next person to throw a punch in my bar is gonna eat a bullet!” For emphasis, the owner swung the barrel of his shotgun around the room. “Understood?”

  It was like I’d walked into some old Dirty Harry movie. This couldn’t be real.

  “Oh, it’s real, sweetheart.” The deep voice rippled through me, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

  Apparently I’d spoken out loud. My gaze snapped back to Biker Boy. His heart thudded strong and steady beneath my palm where it rested on his chest. I jerked my hand away and crossed my arms. “You can put me down. I think everything is under control now.” A quick glance confirmed that Walt and his friends were reclaiming their seats, grumbling and looking like chastised children. The rest of the bar followed suit, righting tables and chairs.

  “Sure.” He lowered me to the ground, my body sliding along his in the most disconcerting way.

  I quickly put space between us, stepping back and pressing a hand to my neck where my pulse hammered like it wanted to burst from my skin. I inhaled his clean soapy smell. It was nice. Especially in this place where the odors mostly consisted of sweat and smoke.

  He clucked his tongue and peered closely at my face. “Oh, you’re gonna have a shiner there.”

  With a grimace, I touched my tender eye. “I’ll just get my friends and go.”

  “Yeah. That would be a good idea.”

  Scowling, I dropped my hand and whirled around. Leaving him behind, I found Annie with an arm wrapped around Noah’s waist. He didn’t look good. The right side of his face was swollen, his eye puffy and sealed shut. His band members didn’t look much better as they clumsily gathered up their instruments.

  “Let me help.” I moved to wrap another arm around Noah, but Annie yanked away.

  “You’ve done enough.”

  “Me?” I pressed a hand to my chest.

  “Thanks to you Noah got jumped.”

  “Me?” I repeated dumbly.

  “Yeah.” Annie’s face scrunched up, looking almost unattractive. “Get your own ride home.”

  “Are you serious?” I looked around me. “You can’t leave me alone—”

  “It’s not my problem.” She shouldered past me. I gaped at her, watching as she headed for the door. Granted, I knew that Annie wasn’t the nicest girl. I hadn’t liked the way she treated Pepper last fall when Pepper and Reece were first hooking up. I’m sure jealousy had been a factor in her catty remarks, but that was months ago. She’d been decent since. I never would have imagined she’d leave me stranded like this.

  So much for a fun night out.

  Noah’s band members followed, lugging their instruments and amps. They didn’t even move toward the bar to get paid. Although a guy who drove a Lexus probably wasn’t in this for the money anyway.

  I reached a hand out for the drummer—he was my only hope—but he just glared at me with one eye that looked like it was warming up to a nice shade of blue. Clearly they all blamed me. And they were leaving me here. Unbelievable.

  I hurried after them, weaving between tables on unsteady legs. Someone bumped into me and I had to grab the surface of a table to keep from falling. The sudden action made my world spin and I squeezed my eyes in one long blink in an attempt to quell the dizziness.

  “Hey, watch it,” a woman’s scratchy voice warned.

  My gaze lifted toward the door, panicked that they had already left and I’d lost my chance to change their minds. I caught sight of their retreating backs an instant before the doors slammed shut behind them.

  With a curse, I pushed after them. By the time I stepped outside, they were already getting into their cars. Sudden cold that had nothing to do with the wintry air swam through my veins. My boots crunched over the snow-packed parking lot.

  “Annie!” I shouted just as my foot hit an icy patch and I went down hard. My ass took the brunt of the fall and for once I was glad that it was well padded. I might be petite, but I’d been cursed with a backside that could serve as a flotation device.

  Annie heard me. I watched helplessly as she looked back at me before ducking inside the car behind the wheel. Struggling less than gracefully to my feet, I gawked as she started the car and reversed it out of the parking spot. Noah’s Lexus followed, his drummer driving.

  I stared after the taillights, my teeth chattering. My jeans were wet from my fall. Looking down, I swatted at my thighs, trying to dust off the white powder.

  Snow started to fall softly then. Blinking against the wet flurries, I turned and moved back toward the bar, taking shuffling steps to keep from falling again.

  My legs felt heavy, every step a chore, but I forced myself to cross the threshold. It was warmer inside at least—even if it smelled like one giant ashtray.

  I stayed near the door, scooting along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous. No easy feat when I’d started a brawl not ten minutes ago. I’m guessing I was on people’s radar.

  Teeth still chattering, I fished my phone out of my pocket and punched in Pepper’s name. It rang four times and then went to voice mail. Yanking the phone from my ear, I glared at the lit screen. “C’mon, Pepper.” Damn rabbits. I could guess what they were doing. Instead of leaving a message, I poked at the phone several times with my finger, missing the end button before successfully landing on it.

  Pink Floyd piped out of the speakers near the stage and everyone looked livelier than they had half an hour ago. No more of Noah’s best of the ’80s to mellow the mood. It was a miracle they hadn’t been booted out of here before I even spilled beer in some biker’s lap.

  I was on the verge of dialing Georgia—if I could hit the right button. She’d been with her boyfriend since she was sixteen, so they probably weren’t having sex. At least certain comments from Georgia led me to believe that they didn’t exactly have a rocking sex life. Harris was such a tool. Sad really. Georgia deserved better. She deserved fun and a guy who worshipped her and that just wasn’t Harris, but somehow I was the only one who saw this.

  “Friends leave you?”

  My head snapped up at the sound of the deep voice. The motion threw off my balance. I staggered sideways.

  Hot Biker Boy reached out as though to steady me, but I slid farther away, determined that he not touch me. He held up his hand, palm face out, as though to proclaim himself unarmed.

  My stare moved from his palm to his face. A face too pretty to be in this bar where it looked like you needed an injection of penicillin if you just brushed up against one of its patrons.

  Except he was one of them. A pretty-boy biker just seemed like an oxymoron. A giggle started to slip past my lips, but I quickly pressed my fingers to my mouth to kill the sound.

  I gave my head a small shake, trying to clear it from the effects of alcohol.

  He leaned against the wall just a few inches beside me. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Y-yes. Fine. You? How are you? Oh, wait. Me?” I frowned. “Why? Why do you ask? Don’t I look okay?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy half grin. I could have kicked myself for babbling so much. A
simple yes would have sufficed.

  He angled his head, his deeply set eyes focusing on me with an intensity that I wasn’t accustomed to. Like he was really looking past the clothes and makeup and hair to the girl beneath. I squinted. Were those his lashes? Ridiculous. They were longer than lashes ought to be on a guy.

  “You look drunk,” he replied.

  I winced. Was it that obvious? “Not really. I’ve had a few.”

  He gave me a skeptical look. In turn, I gave him what I hoped was my most sober look.

  Shaking his head, he looked out at the bar that was growing just as rowdy as the women in the bathroom had predicted. It seemed like our fight had kicked things off for the night and now things were really hopping.

  “You stranded here?”

  I looked back at him and lied again. “No.” Stranded made me sound so . . . helpless. Even if it was true, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t helpless.

  “Where’d your friends go?”

  “They had to go somewhere,” I answered, not caring if that wasn’t really an answer at all.

  “Without you?”

  I exhaled. It was a difficult lie to maintain when I stood here alone. Cold. Wet. And more inebriated than I should be considering my designated driver had flaked out on me. I dragged a hand down one side of my face.

  He buried one hand in his jacket pocket but didn’t add anything else. We leaned against the wall in silence, staring straight ahead, several inches separating us. The heat from his body radiated toward me. I rotated my phone in my hand nervously, waiting for him to go away, unwilling to call Georgia in front of him and reveal just how desperate and alone I was.

  One of the women from the bathroom was dancing on top of a table now, waving her arms above her head as she gyrated her hips to the shouts and cheers of men below her.

  He spoke up beside me, his voice a rich, deep rumble over the din. “I know you’re not stranded or anything.” Was that mockery in his voice? “But I could give you a ride home. If you want.”

  If you want.

  I turned to survey him, propping a shoulder against the wall. I looked him up and down, considering every Hot Biker Boy inch of him. He really was beautiful. Dark haired, with eyes not quite as dark, a chocolaty brown. Deep and mesmerizing. Too bad he was everything I could never have. “I’m not going to fuck you.”