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The woman I chose is beyond sexy. She’s skinny, but I can see the definition of her bare arms that shows she works out. She’s wearing black biker boots, short black jean shorts that practically show her ass, and a red crop top tank that shows off the perfect amount of skin. Her fiery red hair hangs in loose curls and blocks her face from view for the most part until she turns to look at me.
“Can I help you?” She questions coldly, her eyes narrowing as she glares.
“Just wanted to offer to buy you a drink?” I backpedal slightly. I’m not afraid of her; if anything, I’m more turned on by her attitude.
She looks me up and down before huffing and turning back around. Her hair whips around and even smacks my arm in the process.
Well then, I guess she’s not interested at all. That’s a first.
I’m honestly not used to girls turning me down. Usually, my unruly blonde locks and handsome features pull every woman in. Either she knows who I am and hates our music, or she honestly just has a stick up her ass. I’m guessing the second because who could hate our music?
“What can I get for you, Red?” the bartender asks when he gets to our side. His attention is solely focused on her face, not once slipping down to check out her tits that are on full display.
Impressive.
He’s either gay or knows she’s the type to kick someone's ass.
“Shot of tequila, rum and coke, and put it on this guy,” she says, pointing to me and giving me a smirk.
Yup, I should have seen that coming the second I asked if I could buy her a drink. Fuck it. Two can play this game.
“Make that two shots, and I’ll take a Miller,” I add to the order.
The bartender nods, quickly walking away and gathering our request. “Since I’m paying, at least do me the honor of knowing your name.” I give her my signature smile that would make any woman melt in my arms.
“You’re gonna have to work harder than that, Pretty Boy,” she laughs, turning away to watch the bartender.
Oh, she is definitely going to make me work for it.
“Alright, how about a bet?”
“What kind of bet?” She rolls her eyes. Clearly, not the type to enjoy games. Well then, I better make this good.
“If the guy in the black jeans wins, you have to tell me your name, suck my dick, and let me eat you out.” I’m pushing my luck. I know that, but I can’t help it. I love a good challenge.
“What do I get if he loses?” she asks sweetly, but I can see the danger flashing in her eyes.
She’s enjoying this.
“What would you like? This goes both ways.” I give her my full attention, ignoring the bartender when he placed the drinks in front of us. I already had thirty bucks sitting on the bar top for him to take.
“Hmm,” she taps her chin. The movement pulls my attention from her bright green eyes to her long pointed bright red nails. Why any woman wears their nails long like that, I’ll never understand, but I have to admit they are great during sex when they run them along my back and leave marks. “I’ll take you tied up and at my mercy for a full night.”
“You have yourself a deal.” Either way, we will both be getting what we want out of this deal. As long as my dick ends up inside her somehow by the end of the night, I won’t be complaining. I hold out my hand for her to shake. She smiles and places her delicate hand in mine. “Let’s drink to it.” I grab my shot glass when I let go of her hand. Both of us toss them back quickly. By some miracle, I manage to keep my face straight, and she does the same outside of the small head shake she does after swallowing.
Both of us turn around, with our other drinks in hand, right as the whistle blows, signaling the start of the fight. Leaning back against the bar, I let one arm settle on the bar top while the other holds my fresh, cold beer. Every time I lift the bottle to my lips, my arm lightly brushes hers. She could have moved away easily but didn’t, so I’m taking that as a sign she’s going to be all in later.
The crowd roars when Gunner gets in a good hit on his opponent. The other guy drops to the ground, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was knocked out cold. The crowd roars, going crazy. It’s almost deafening. Gunner gives him the chance to get up. He hates easy fights.
The guy slowly rises to his feet, swaying slightly with the movement. His left hand is clutching the side of his face while his right is raised slightly in front of him, more in a defensive position than offensive. The guy shakes his head lightly, like he’s trying to knock the hit away, and charges forward toward Gunner. He’s quick but not quick enough. Gunner easily deflects his charge, flipping the guy around and tossing him into the ropes. He bounces back and turns around. This time he waits a moment and walks toward my brother like he’s trying to calculate what to do. The two begin exchanging blows when they're close enough, his opponent even managed to get a couple of decent hits in on him, including one to the jaw.
Ouch.
I can see the two of them trading insults, but the guy manages to say something that brings darkness forward in Gunner's eyes. That’s when Gunner finally flips the switch completely, sending a one-two punch at the guy and knocking him out cold. Even from my position at the bar, I can see the blood flying out of the guy's mouth. I’m pretty sure he lost a tooth, too.
“Pay up, Beautiful,” I smirk, turning my body into her. I can see the grim look of disappointment in her eyes. She honestly thought the other guy was going to win. I’m starting to wonder if she's new here or to the underground fight scene because everyone here knows who Gunner is.
“Name’s Red,” she answers, her eyes full of playfulness.
