And just like that, the excited haze he has me in is gone. Holly… I don’t like him calling me Holly.
Bethie’s right. I can’t have him. I watch as he walks over to his buddies and they’re laughing. I can’t hear what they say, though I’m sure Torch is telling them he’s hooking up with some chick he just met. Me. It’s not like I’ve done this a lot, but it has never bothered me before when it did happen.
So, why does it bother me now?
I can’t do this. I’m playing with fire. I look around the club, searching for the back exit. When I spot it, I head immediately in its direction.
I’m walking towards my brothers, but in my mind, I’m seeing Holly’s tongue sliding against her lips as I finger her tight little *. I’m thinking of the way her fingers hold onto me. Hell, they were clawing into my back. I wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood under my shirt.
“Hey, boys. I’m heading out. I’ll meet you back at the motel later tonight.”
“Is that a fact?” Sabre asks.
“Yeah. And you, you tight son of a bitch… you owe me money, and I’ll expect that when I get in later.”
“That’s interesting. If you actually did hook up with her, where is she?”
“Just never mind, Sabre. I have plans for sweet Holly. If you’re nice, I may show you pictures tomorrow. She’s hot as fuck and begging for dick, man. Just like I like them.”
“That’s really weird,” Latch speaks up, staring at his beer.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, if you’re hooking up with her tonight, why is she sneaking out back?”
“What?” I spin around. “What the fuck??” Sure enough, Holly’s sneaking out the back entrance. That little cock tease! “Son of a bitch-whore!”
Sabre and Latch laugh and laugh. Annoying bastards. I turn to flip them off, then take off to capture the little tease who thought she could play me, but the look on Sabre’s face stops me.
“I might have been wrong, Torch, my boy.”
“I’m not your motherfucking boy,” I grumble back. “What in the hell are you talking about anyways?”
Maybe I should let the chick go. She’s hot as hell, but I just need my dick wet. I ain’t chasing after no *. I ignore the pain in my dick that calls me a fucking liar. Motherfucker will take whatever * I give him. He’s been too fucking choosy lately.
“She might be right up your alley. Make you work for it. I can’t remember a bitch turning you down in a long ass time.”
“That’s because it hasn’t fucking happened.”
“Don’t look now, amigo, but looks like it just did,” Latch joins in.
“We’ll see about that.”
I head out the front, intent on finding the bitch who thought it’d be fun to give me blue balls tonight. Once outside, I look around. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Then, I see the minx walking along the side of the building and heading to a yellow Jeep Wrangler. Why does that surprise me? I don’t know what I expected her to drive, but this wasn’t it.
It’s then that I notice something I hadn’t before. Maybe I was too horny or distracted by her fucking gorgeous boobs, hell if I know, but I see it now: the limp. She has trouble when she walks, unable to support her weight on her right leg. I see her grimace in pain, and find myself worrying about her.
What the fuck is that? I don’t worry about bitches. She owes me a fuck, and that’s it. I push anything else out of my head. I move to intercept her, trying to keep my eyes off her legs. So she’s limping. Maybe she twisted her ankle trying to get away from me. The thought makes me mad all over again. If she didn’t want to start our little game, the bitch shouldn’t have led me on.
I grab her arm at the Jeep. Her soft gasp travels through the night air and she goes completely still. I pull her back hard, ignoring the spasm of guilt I feel when she falls awkwardly against my body—another sign she has a problem with her leg. Not that it matters. This is about fucking. I don’t need to know her life’s story.
Not at all.
It’s probably no longer than five minutes since I made my escape, but it feels like a freaking hour. I should have ran the minute I met him. Bethie was right. I shake my head at my own stupidity and start walking faster towards my Jeep. I’m probably too buzzed to drive, but I can hide there and use my phone to call a taxi. I’m almost to the vehicle. I can see the bright yellow glow of it under the street light’s ray.
A hand locks around my upper arm and I gasp in surprise, because I didn’t even hear anyone behind me. Before I can scream, I’m pulled against Torch. I may have only danced with him once, but I instantly know it’s his body, his heat behind me. His large arm locks around my stomach, not letting me move an inch. His other hand pulls the hair from my neck a little too roughly, but the sting of pain only amplifies my anticipation.
“I thought I told you not to go anywhere, sweetness?”