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She flinched at his tone. Who was he to ask any questions? She was invited. A simple yes or no would have been cordial and sufficient. “Why?”
He stepped forward, sending her down another step. “Yeah, fucking why?”
“Um…h-he…” Why was she stuttering? “He asked me to come?”
The corner of his mouth twisted. “Yeah, and can you come on command?” His gaze traveled down her body. “Like to see that.”
She furrowed her brows. Asshole. “If he’s here, can you just tell him Cheyenne is here.”
His gaze stopped at her breasts but not from ogling. He seemed almost frozen. His gaze darted up to meet hers, and his face tensed. “Shit, get in here.” He stepped inside, widening the door for her to enter. She put a wide berth between them. This man made her nervous. She turned to him once she’d made it inside the hallway. He jutted his chin toward the bar. “He’s back there.”
She nodded and walked down the hall but halted when she heard her name.
“Don’t tell him I was fucking around with you, all right? Wouldn’t have done it if ya told me who you were.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I won’t.” She turned again, not understanding why Trax would even care.
When she breached the hallway, all thoughts stopped as she scanned the room. It was packed with people, mostly half-dressed women and obvious bikers. She’d never seen so much leather or exposed flesh in one place. Finding Trax was going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. She surveyed the dimly lit area.
So, this is what live porn looks like? A topless woman was on her knees, giving a blowjob to one man standing and jerking off another who sat at the table. What the fuck?
When the man receiving head glanced over, she quickly jerked her body in the opposite direction. She’d never considered herself a voyeur, but then again, she’d never witnessed people engaging in sexual acts in public.
She fiddled with her fingers, feeling the heavy stares aimed at her. Where the hell was Trax? The dim lighting made it difficult to see. It also didn’t help they all wore similar attire. A small group parted, and she raised onto her tippy toes at the same time as her stomach dropped.
Trax stood at the bar, his arm hooked around the waist of a petite blonde. It seemed fruitless for the woman to even be wearing a shirt. Her neckline was non-existent, and her breasts were dangerously close to popping out. The woman was curled into his side, and when she turned her head, smiling, she whispered something into his ear. Cheyenne felt a heated fury course through her blood. It only intensified when he laughed and tugged her in closer as his hand dragged lower down just above her ass.
She stood frozen with her stare glued to his hand. She should have expected this, should have at least suspected he wasn’t a one-woman man. Everything she had with him since the moment they’d met had been hot and cold, right and wrong, legal and illegal. There wasn’t a normal or average to any of their interactions. She’d been a fool to think that beyond sex Trax would want anything more. All the signs pointed to something like this happening. Yet there she was, blindsided by the pure disappointment.She would have preferred anger and rage over the emotions swirling through her body now. Screaming and throwing things would’ve released pent-up anger. But hurt and betrayal cut deeper. It lingered without outlet.
“So stupid.” She clamped her lips, realizing she’d said it out loud.
What had she expected? This wasn’t a nice guy who wanted to date her, meet her family, spend nights in bed watching movies with her. Her face heated, and she jerked her gaze to the dirty floor. Stupid. She contemplated her options. She could march up to him and cause a scene. It wouldn’t be the first time, girl. She could scream, shout obscenities in hopes of embarrassing him, and possibly even throw a drink in his face. Where would that leave her? She’d get the same outcome, looking like a deranged maniac.No, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I could just leave.
She sighed, turning and coming face-to-face with a familiar person.
“Hey, babe, you made it.”
“Uh, yeah, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m gonna go.” She stepped to the side to pass Gage, but he mirrored her movement, which struck her as odd. She moved again with the same result.
“Shit, that sucks. Trax know you’re here?” He glanced around the room, but she had the sneaking suspicion he knew exactly where Trax was and who he was with.
That was humiliating. Her eyes burned, but she refused to give in to her tears. She smiled, her bottom lip twitching, and shook her head. “No, but I really gotta go. I’ll call him later. Bye.” She rushed past him and walked to the hall. The guy who let her in came into sight, and she took a relieved breath. Just a few feet to the exit. She had just breached the hallway when a strong hand wrapped around her forearm. She whipped her head around and stared back at Gage. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. A sense of immense dread wafted her body.
“Come here, Chey.”
She tugged her arm, but he had a tight hold, and she found herself being dragged through the room nearest the wall. No one even glanced her way, though she doubted anyone would have helped, even if they had. She recognized the hall near the back exit, and Gage gave a quick knock to the door at the end and then opened it, ushering her in before him. It had all so happened so quickly.
There were two men sitting at the pub table and another standing. All familiar faces but none of them comforting. What the hell had she gotten herself into now? She locked gazes with Rourke, whose back was against the wall. His stare was a usual glare, but his chin dipped in acknowledgment. It was the most he’d ever engaged with her, aside from their initial meeting.
“Want me to get Trax?” Gage asked from behind her.
The man at the table shook his head and stared back at Cheyenne. Kase. Oh shit. She gazed to his left. He’d been the one to assure her the men at her apartment would be taken care of. She remembered because he’d seemed so sincere. Saint?
The door latched behind her, and she whipped around to see Gage lean against it. He smiled, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. She was now locked in a room with four bikers. Holy hell, she was dead.
“Kase?” Rourke said. Cheyenne immediately looked over. He stared at his brother with a harsh grimace. “Trax should be here.”
Kase lit a cigarette, eyeing Cheyenne. “No.” He leaned forward, taking a drag, letting the smoke filter around his face. There was nothing comforting about this man. Aside from his handsome yet rugged good looks, there was nothing endearing about him. She twisted her hands in front of her and tried to even her breath. Don’t panic.
