“What?”
“That.” He gestured toward the sea of tables between them and the bar. “Taking down your hair. Unbuttoning your shirt. All that laughing and smiling and touching guys. That dude on the right in the red shirt is still staring at your ass. And those two suits haven’t stopped looking at your legs.”
“That is called being friendly with the customers. Happy customers give better tips.”
“This customer isn’t happy.” He sipped the bourbon, his eyes boring into her with an intensity that took her breath away. “You’re my girl. You don’t be friendly with anyone but me.”
Dawn lifted an admonishing eyebrow. “First, I don’t recall us discussing an exclusive arrangement in which I would be your girl. And second, you get to be friendly with the dancers at Peelers? Hardly seems fair.” She tried to keep her tone light, but her words came out slightly sharp and she cringed inwardly. She didn’t do jealous. And really, she didn’t care what Cade did in his free time. So they’d shared a few kisses. And blazingly hot sex in parking lot behind a bike shop. No big deal.
Cade finished his drink and placed the glass on the table. “I had a shit week, so yeah, I went to Peelers to relax. Watched my friend Delilah on the pole, but afterward, when she wanted to dance in my lap, I turned her down. All I could think about was you.”
“Really?” Dawn raised an eyebrow. “I’ve always wanted a guy to tell me he was thinking about me while a stripper was offering to writhe naked on his lap.”
“She wasn’t completely naked.”
“Oh well then. That’s so much better.” She grabbed the empty glass and held it to her nose, inhaling the strong scent of liquor. She’d never been tempted to drink while at work, but being this close to Cade gave her a burning need to cool off.
Cade leaned back in his seat, wincing when his shoulders hit the wooden frame. “You’re making me think you care.”
“I don’t. Go see all the strippers you want, but not if you think I’m your girl. Some women might not have a problem with it, but I do.” She stared at him for a moment, torn between turning and walking away and asking him if he was okay. She’d seen the deep knife cuts over his Sinner’s Tribe tattoo when she’d fixed him up the other night, the ultimate disrespect from one biker to another, and wondered if her household antiseptic was enough to clean wounds that deep. Now she suspected it hadn’t been, but knowing Cade, he’d be falling off his bike before he’d see a doctor.
“Something wrong with your back?” She licked the edge of the glass, and the burn on her tongue made her eyes water.
“’S good.” A smile played at the corners of his lips. “You thirsty?”
“Um. No. Just tasting.” She put down the glass. “Something is wrong with your back. I saw you wince and I saw what they did to you the other night. Why don’t you come to the stockroom and let me check it out?”
Cade’s brow creased. “Nothing’s wrong, so there’s nothing to check out.”
“Fine. I’ll just leave you to think about the stripper in your lap and the cuts on your tat and I’ll get back to work.” She turned to leave, at least she thought she did, but her feet were still planted firmly on the floor.
“You’re damn sexy when you’re riled.” His hand slid up her thigh, curling around her hip, and he pulled her gently between his spread legs. “And even more sexy when your compassion gets the better of you.”
Game over. She should never have let him touch her. Dark hunger gripped her belly, and she struggled against the heat coursing through her veins.
“My face is still bruised. Bruises aren’t sexy.”
“Yours are. Everything about you is sexy.” He shoved up her skirt, just an inch, his thumb stroking along her inner thigh. Dawn trembled, wanting more and hating herself for it. He’d just come from a goddamn strip club. She knew exactly what would have happened in the back room. And the kind of guys who used them …
“I’m in my work clothes.”
“Sexy little skirt.” He caressed her with both hands, smoothing his fingers over the curve of her hips to her waist. His fingers tightened and he stood and spun her around, guiding her the few steps to the hallway leading to the washrooms. Then he pushed her against the wall, his massive body hiding her from view.
“Cade. I’m working.” She studied the slightly off-kilter set of his shoulders, the weariness of his face, breathed in his scent of beer and bourbon. “And you’ve been drinking. A lot.”
“Stuff came up during an ambush. Stuff I’d buried a long time ago.”