Cash (Sexy Bastard #2)

We all gather ringside. I find a spot beside Savannah, and slide my arm around her waist, drawing looks from the others.

Fuck it. I’m not some kid sneaking around, and like Savannah said, it’s her business who she fucks.

Mine too, if I’m lucky.

Ryder gives me a look. “How’s the bar doing?”

“Fine without me,” I glare back.

“Cash was just explaining how the fight is mostly fake,” Savannah teases.

Ryder grins. “You want fake, watch the TV crap. This is the real deal.”

“How was the sushi joint?” Parker asks. “It’s great right?”

I’m going to murder Parker.

“ Great,” Savannah smiles. “Until Cash had to run out for some bar emergency.”

Ryder shoots me a look. “What emergency?”

“How’s your new client doing?” I ask, trying to cover. “That country guy. He still around? Or did he get jealous that you had a really hot boyfriend?”

“New client?” Cassie asks. “Country guy?”

“Tanner Jakes,” Savannah grumbles into her drink

“He’s your client? Oh my God, he is awesome! His song is everywhere!” Cassie crows. “You should invite him to the club, it’d be—”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Savannah says. She holds up her bottle. “Look, I’m empty. Who wants another round? No one? Be right back.”

I let her go, and watch her slip through the crowd. I fully intend to hunt her down as fast as I can. She doesn’t deserve to be haunted by that prick Tanner Jakes.

“You break her heart and I’ll break your balls,” Cassie says. I glance at Ryder, who clearly is staying out of this. “I mean it.”

“I don’t intend to,” I say over my shoulder as I follow Savannah’s path. She’s not heading toward the bar—she’s heading toward the exit. This time I’m not letting her slip through my fingers.

“Wait up,” I try to catch her.

“I just need some air.”

“Then why didn’t you just say so?” I take her hand and pull her through the crowd. Some people grunt and shoot us the evil eye, angry that we’re messing with their view of the match.

I lead her up a set of stairs that hug the side of the warehouse. Opening the door at the top, I step back and let her step out onto the roof first. Atlanta’s silhouette glows in the darkness, enticing anyone to come play on her streets. Only the brightest stars puncture the lights of the city. It’s Atlanta just the way I like her: a wink and a nod and a good time to be had. The warehouse roof provides us a front porch to her secrets. It’s one of my favorite places in any of our bars.

Savannah walks over to a set of lounge chairs. We’ve been toying with the idea of turning this into separate party area, but now I’m glad we have the place to ourselves. I need us to be alone for everything I want to do with her tonight, and I’ve got a feeling it won’t wait. Still, there’s something wrong, so I hold back, watching her for some sign of where her head is at.

She takes a deep breath, pressing her breast tight against the deep v in her dress.

“Tanner came by my apartment last night.”

All rational thought stops, and all I want to do is pound my fists on Tanner’s face.

“Did he hurt you?” I go sit by her and rest a hand on her arm. It won’t matter how many bodyguards he has or how much money his stupid songs have made him, I will put him in a body bag myself if he laid a hand on Savannah.

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. It’s over. I’m glad, in a way,” she adds, and my jealous streak burns before she adds, “I think I needed it – to hear him say everything I ever wanted him to say. So I could slam the fucking door in his face.”

I grin, relieved. That’s my girl. She doesn’t seem cut up about it, not anymore. “You should have called me to come kick his ass,” I say, not even kidding.

“I handled it.” She gives me a wicked grin, and her eyes drop to my lap – my cock straining against my jeans. “I’m good at handling things.”

Fuck.

“And what sort of things do you handle?” I let my fingers trail down her arm. She gives a little shiver, and I see her nipples pebble hard beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

Her hand slides over my thigh, teasing against my denim-clad cock.

“I think I can handle you.”

Now damn, if that isn’t an invitation. Still, something keeps me from shoving up that dress and fucking her right now. I want to savor every taste of her – I’ve sure waited long enough.

Sneaking a hand around her hip, I pull Savannah flush against me. She lets out a breath and it comes out as a moan.

My kiss is hot and demanding. Our tongues meet, and neither of us seems to want to surrender first. I want to bury myself in her and never come up for air. All those years of experience, and I’m about to lose myself like a teen in the back of a car. I pull back with a groan, just to look at her. The faraway street lights casts a halo over her skin and reflects the passion in her eyes. Damn, she’s beautiful, but more than that, she’s Savannah.