Indecent (24 Book Alpha Male Romance Box Set)
Hannah Ford & Kelly Favor & Paige North & Zoe Tyler & Olivia Chase
Aubrey
The moment I walk into Outlaws, I instantly realize how much I stick out. Worse than a sore thumb. More like a sore limb, or a sore whole body. Silly me, I thought my skinny jeans and slim-fitting T-shirt would be appropriate for a bar, but many of the women in here are wearing tiny, skin-hugging skirts and sexy shirts that make me look like a nun in comparison.
My face burns when several burly, greasy-looking men turn and stare my way, their gazes raking me up and down for a moment before visually dismissing me, but I make myself continue walking through the propped-open front door into the bar.
The floor crunches underneath my ballerina flats. I think it’s peanut shells I’m walking on but I can’t say for sure, and I’m kinda too scared to look at what it is. Instead, I find a space at the end of the beat-up wooden slab of a bar and slide onto the rickety bar stool.
Some kind of rock with a heavy thudding beat throbs through the large room, which is dimly lit. I hear the crack of a pool cue hitting a ball, dozens of people laughing and talking. The air in here smells like beer and warm sweat—there’s no air conditioning, but thankfully there’s a fresh breeze wafting in through the open door.
I suck in a deep breath, pressing my hand to my lower belly, and steady myself. Today, I begin again.
This is my new life. My new hometown. The place where I can leave my shitty past behind and start over. Rock Bridge, Michigan, a town chosen completely at random. A town that includes the seediest bar I’ve ever seen in my life. I didn’t think joints like this existed outside of movies.
I was totally wrong.
I study the beer to see what’s on tap. Most are the usual offerings, but there are a couple of brands I don’t recognize. Maybe local? I should try one out to help me acclimate myself even more to my new town, my new state.
I peek down the length of the bar but don’t see a bartender. No one else at the bar seems to care, though. They’re all caught up in talking to each other, waving hands in the air, yelling over the music. Their voices mingle around me.
Minutes pass. Nothing happens—I’m completely ignored by everyone, and behind the bar is still empty.
I shift nervously, second-guessing my impulsive decision to stop in here. Maybe this wasn’t my best idea after all. But I spent all day moving into my cheap but furnished apartment, unpacking my meager belongings and getting settled in. I passed the bar on my way to my new place and saw it’s within walking distance.
For whatever reason, I didn’t want to stay in that apartment by myself. Not tonight. I needed to be around other people. To remind myself that I’m safe.
So here I am, sitting by myself at the dirtiest, grittiest bar I’ve ever seen. Like a fucking loser, I think, then correct myself. No, not like a loser. Like a new girl in town—there’s no shame in that. I’m not letting his voice insinuate itself inside my head anymore. He can’t control me, can’t tell me how I should feel about myself. My chest lightens with the realization that finally, finally, I’m out of his grasp.
I take my first real deep breath in what feels like months, and my shoulders relax of their own volition. So what if I’m alone here? I don’t care. I don’t want anyone talking to me right now anyway. I just want to drink a beer and relax. Be around people, but not necessarily worry about integrating myself.
Besides, how would someone “integrate” herself in a bar like this, anyway? Offer blowjobs in the bathroom? The thought makes me laugh.
“Uh, hello,” a deep voice says from behind the bar, clearly irritated.
I blink, realizing I’ve been staring blindly at the nocked bar surface, and peer up into the sky-blue eyes of the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. His dark blond hair is clipped short on the sides and pushed up in the front, and his black T-shirt barely fits over his well-formed chest. His curvy lips are pressed together in a thin line, surrounded by a red-blond close-clipped mustache and beard, and he has one brow arched at me.
He doesn’t look happy to see me. So much for customer service, I think.
“Um. Sorry. Yeah, hi,” I stumble. Something about the intensity of his gaze makes me clench, unnerves me. He’s raw sexuality personified.
He quirks his brow even higher. “I don’t recognize you.”
“I’m new to town,” I reply. “Just moved in today, actually. I came from upper New York.” Why in the hell am I telling him all of this? Something about him makes me really nervous. And when I’m nervous, I ramble.
“So, did you come from upper New York to just stare at the bar, or do you actually want something to drink?” His voice is flat.
My cheeks burn, and I tilt my chin up. “I would like a beer.”