My eyes shot open, and I sat up, waiting for her reply.
“Fuck off, asshole,” she muttered, still slurring her words.
His voice was angry when he spoke again. “Don’t fucking tell me to fuck off, bitch.”
She didn’t say anything back to him. All I heard was the noise of the people in the background. And then she said, “Shit!”
“Carla, what the fuck is happening?” I demanded to know; I was wide-awake now.
“He fucking groped my tit, but I think he’s gone now.”
“Tell me where you are. I’m coming to get you,” I said as I grabbed the keys to Dad’s ute and headed outside. I wasn’t sure why the hell I was doing this, but I kept moving anyway.
She rattled off the name of the club as I started the car. Putting my phone on speakerphone, I ordered, “Keep talking to me while I drive.”
The bar was a ten-minute drive from where I was, and she prattled on about God knows what the whole time. Fuck, I could probably listen to her voice for hours and stay hard the whole time. And thank Christ that dickhead seemed to have left her alone.
I parked the ute, ended the call and made my way inside. The beat of the music and the noise of the crowd assaulted me as I entered. I fucking hated these types of clubs that played this dance music shit. Give me a pub with a live band any day over this crap. Spotting her at the bar, I headed in her direction.
She saw me, and sent a drunken smile my way. In the time since we’d ended our call, she’d started talking to another guy, and he didn’t look too pleased to see her watching me approach. “Who’s this?” he asked when I stopped in front of her.
“I’m with her, dickhead,” I muttered while curling my arm around her waist and pulling her to me. She smelt fucking amazing and felt even better as I pushed my hand up under the bottom of her top and found skin.
Her hand snaked around my waist too, and she murmured, “Yeah, he’s with me. He’s got magic ways with his cock and I really hope he’ll show me them again tonight.”
I bent my mouth to her ear. “Jesus fuck, woman, you’ve got a dirty mouth that’s gonna get you into trouble one day,” I said while trying to ignore the begging my dick was doing.
She turned to me, her eyes full of lust. “Can it get me into trouble tonight, Havoc?” As she said this, her free hand landed on my dick and she rubbed me.
Fuck.
“Trouble’s your middle fuckin’ name, isn’t it?” I growled, reaching for her hand and pulling it off my crotch. “You keep that shit up, and I’ll be banging you on the fuckin’ bar.”
She pouted. “You keep talking but all I’m hearing is a whole lot of grumbling. I’ve never known a man who didn’t jump at the chance of sex.”
The idiot she’d been talking to cut in. “Baby, if you want sex, I’ll give it to you.”
My head snapped in his direction. “Back the fuck off, asshole. The only man she’s gonna be fucking tonight is me.” He scowled but got the message and left.
As I watched him go, Carla placed her hand back on my crotch, and said, “Halle-fucking-lujah! Now can we hurry—"
I cut her off and yanked her hand off my dick again. “Stop talking, darlin’, and start fuckin’ walking. And if you touch my dick again before I say you can, I’m gonna make your ass red.”
Her eyes widened and a sexy grin formed on her lips. “I like the way you think, and I might just be tempted to break that command before you get me home.”
I bent to her ear again. “Who the fuck said anything about getting you home? If you think I can wait that long to get my dick in you, you’re fuckin’ dreaming.”
She licked her lips. “Hell to the fucking yes!” And then she did as I said, and walked out of the club, her ass swaying from side to side, teasing the hell out of me as she went.
I followed her out, and then led the way to the ute. She eyed it and asked, “Why do you drive this instead of your bike? I kinda wanted to see what sex on a bike was like.”
“I’m not putting your drunk ass on the back of my bike,” I responded as I opened the door for her and helped her in.
She began rambling about something but I tuned it out as I headed around to the driver side. I was sure she’d still be talking when I got in the car, and I was right. I let her get all her words out before asking, “Do you always talk this much?”
Her filthy glare was the only answer I received, but she stopped talking.
I started the car and asked her, “What’s your address?”
She frowned. “I’m not telling you my address until after you screw me. You made promises and I need you to make good on them.”