“Who did you leave with last night?”
“Oh, he’s nobody. I was just dancing with him, but then when everyone started freaking, he told me to follow him, that he would get me out of there. I looked for you and saw you running with Zeek, so I ran, too.”
I inhale deeply, my anger calming. Hearing that she didn’t just up and leave without thinking of me is a relief.
“Anyway, I wanted to call this morning to make sure you made it home okay, that you weren’t held captive in Zeek’s bed or something.”
My eyes widen with her words, but I can’t decide if it’s a scary thought or an appealing one.
“Yeah, I made it home fine.”
“Yeah? Did Zeek drop you off? How did that go?” she rambles. I want to tell her what happened, ask her what it means, but I decide against it. I was drinking, Zeek was drinking—it was nothing but drunken lust.
“Yeah, he dropped me off, and then took off. I’m sure he just didn’t want a dead sheriff where his club was last seen,” I scoff, but the thought could have really been the truth behind him saving me. It makes much more sense than the bad boy being attracted to the good girl.
“Hmm,” Alessandra replies, disbelieving.
“What?”
“Nothing. I gotta go, I work tonight. You working?”
“No, I'm off today.”
“Enjoy!” she sing-songs before hanging up.
I fall against my pillows, Zeek and his defined jaw outlined in perfect scruff coming to mind once again.
Stepping off my bed, I stride to my desk, waking up my computer. I type in 'Sin City Outlaws', and Zeek’s mugshot is the first thing that pops up. Just seeing his face makes my heart beat faster. His hair has fallen in his eyes, a villainous grin fitting his face. Those eyes of danger and temptation are looking right back at me.
God, he’s so bad, but it fits him so well.
ZEEK
“Zeek! Zeek!” My arm is shoved, waking me up. Giving a sideways glance, I find a naked blonde chick sitting on the bed.
“What?” I croak, sitting up. Grabbing the sheet, I wad it around my dick, trying to jog my memory of who the hell she is. I remember dropping of the rookie, that fucking kiss, the way her tit fell into my hand like she was made for me—all of it strings in my mind. I was fucking horny as hell, and angry as a beast with blue balls.
My forehead wrinkles, my lips pressed into a straight line. That dumb bitch. She thinks she knows me based on shit she was told and trained to know in her job, but if only she really knew anything about me, she’d never have kissed me.
My head aches, my mouth dry.
I came back to the club, drank way too much—not enough, though, because I swore to God I could still smell her on me. So I grabbed the closest bitch and brought her back here, proving to myself that I'm an asshole.
An animal without emotions.
“Hey, so I gotta go soon. I was curious if you wanna...” She bats her lashes, her eyes skimming my torso. Her face looks like someone left crayons out in the sun, with her makeup running down it. Man, I must have been wasted to bring that back here.
“No,” I snap, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“No?” she asks with disbelief. “But we had sex last—”
“No, we fucked. Big difference.”
Her face scrunches, her mouth popped open like I just dismantled her honor.
“Excuse me, but you came on my face! Look at my—”
“Look...” I stop, her name not coming to mind. Did she even tell me her name? “Whatever happened last night, it didn’t mean anything.” I should just get this shit printed on business cards or something, hand them out after every fuck. It would save a lot of hassle.
Shaking her head, she looks at the door. “Right. I get it. I’m used to this routine by now. Anyway, I put my name and number in your phone.” Her eyes dart to the dresser, my phone sitting on the side. My brows furrow. For fucking real?
“You wasted your time.”
Bending down, she grabs a pink dress and slides it over her head. It looks like a night gown.
“We’ll see.” She smirks, grabbing some pink heels off the floor before leaving.
Tangling my hands in my hair, I fall back on the bed.
“What the fuck!” I yell, my mind flying back and forth. I tell every chick I take to bed not to expect anything the next morning, and they go to bed with me thinking what? That they’re the one who is going to fix me?
Something sweet wafts from my wrist, something unfamiliar.
I smell her, the rookie.
Her scent lingers on my skin.
It’s annoying me.
Making me fucking furious, even.