Fierce (Storm MC #2)

“Sure. Be out soon.”


He nodded and then left. I sat down at the desk in the office and spent a couple of minutes looking through invoices that needed payment or some kind of follow up. This part of the job was the shit part. We’d better have a new manager soon because it was headache material.

***

An hour later, I was kicking back with a beer. Velvet’s performance had gone off without a hitch, our extra security had turned up and the place seemed to be under control. Nash was sitting across from me at the table; once again, enjoying the show. From where I was sitting, I could see the front door and I was surprised to see Harlow stumble through it. The friend she was with was also stumbling; they’d obviously been out drinking for the night. How the fuck they ended up in a strip club was anyone’s guess. Harlow didn’t strike me as your standard strip club patron. I stood up, watching her intently. She was making a beeline to the bar even though any fool could tell she had enough alcohol in her system to last her for a long time. Suddenly, our eyes met and a shitty look crossed her face. She changed her direction and started towards me.

She kept coming until she was almost in my face, and shoved a finger at my chest. “Scott freaking Cole!” she slurred, “You owe me big time. I lost my job because of you.”

“What the fuck? Why?” I took a step back, to move away from her, but she stepped forward and maintained our closeness.

“You pissed that customer off and he put a complaint in about me. He’s one of our best customers so the vet chose him over me. Thank you very freaking much!”

“He deserved everything I said to him,” I defended myself although I wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t something I was ever compelled to do.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole for sure, but you didn’t have to get your dick out and wave it around like freaking King Shit, threatening him and all. I could have handled him by myself.”

She jabbed her finger at my chest again and this time I stopped her and grabbed her hand. We were already close, but I tilted my head so our foreheads almost touched; our breath mingling. She smelt of bourbon mixed with some other smell that hit me right in the dick. Christ. “Babe, I’ll get my dick out and wave it around like fucking King Shit anytime I fucking want. And I’ll especially get it out whenever someone treats people the way that dickhead treated you. You didn’t deserve that shit. So, don’t come in here poking your finger at me and yelling at me for something that needed to be done.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she sucked in a breath. Her lips parted and I could hear her short, choppy breaths as they quickened. I kept my eyes focused on hers, and we stayed locked like that for a moment, just watching each other, taking everything in. My senses were assaulted by her; all I could see, smell and hear was her. And fuck if I didn’t want a taste as well.

I let her go but neither of us moved. Her eyes softened; the hard glare she’d been looking at me with a second ago, gone. A flush came over her cheeks and a hint of a smile touched her lips. When her tongue darted out and licked her lips, a sensation shot right through me and wrapped itself around my cock. It settled in the pit of my stomach a second later. Fuck, what was that scent she was wearing? It was screwing with my mind and my body. I resisted the urge to lean right into her and inhale it.

Harlow made the first move; she stepped back, right into Nash who was now standing behind her. He reached out to steady her, his hands gripping her hips. “Watch out, sweet thing, or you’ll excite my ankle spanker even more than you already have.”

Confusion flit across her face. “Your what?” she asked before turning around to look at him.

Nash’s hands curved around Harlow’s ass as she turned. I zeroed in on this, as well as her failure to remove them. I clenched my jaw and fists; ready to strike but not even sure why. Trying to fight the urge but not succeeding, I reached out and yanked Nash’s hands off her ass. I then hooked my hand around her waist and pulled her back towards me, away from Nash. She gasped as she lost her balance but I held on tight to prevent her fall, and she ended up backed right against me. Nash just looked amused; probably wondering what the fuck I was doing. I knew I sure as hell was. Seeing Nash’s hands on a woman was a normal occurrence for me so why was it any different when it was his hands on Harlow?

“Nash has a filthy mouth. You don’t want to know half the shit he talks about,” I murmured near her ear, her hair brushing across my face.