“Cut it out.” Bobby reached an arm up from behind the counter and brushed my hand off the bulb I’d been twisting on and off for the last twenty odd minutes. The lights stop flickering. Halogen, the cheap fucker never converted to LEDs.
I glanced down at my blackened fingertips and then across the bar top at Bobby. “Place could do with a little bit of ambiance, Bobs.” I smirked. “Consider it a free upgrade.”
“It could do with someone not having a seizure,” he grumbled.
I quirked an eyebrow, and he slid another shot of vodka in front of me. On the house o’ course. It was the price for having a smart mouth. His price. Not mine. I didn’t pay for shit when I could take it.
I lifted the glass in Bobby’s direction. “Za zdorov’ye!”To your health.
It was more of a threat than a promise, and we both knew it. Sure, Bobby was a decent enough bartender. I’d hate to have to kill him but that was never off the pool table. Couldn’t let people get too comfortable. Especially on your home turf. I might have been the only Russian prick in an exclusively Irish bar. Didn’t mean it wasn’t mine. Even rented a room upstairs for whenever I didn’t feel like dragging my ass back home. The other guys at Briarwood didn’t know about it, and they didn’t need to. That shit stayed between me and Bobert Sullivan.
I lowered the shot of vodka to my mouth and threw it back in one go. The burn. That was something I did feel. From the inside out. I grinned at Bobs, tossed the glass behind me, and listened for the shatter before turning around to face the crowd of horny teenagers and even hornier housewives.
We all had our secrets. Teenagers, housewives… the brunette who’d been watching me from the back corner for the last thirty minutes. I was just better at keeping minesecret. Always had been.
I gestured two fingers forward—my best pussy-fucking fingers—and the girl cocked her head to the side. She probably knew who I was. I definitely knew who she was. The littlekotyonokhad been stalking me all week. It was just the first time she was letting herself be seen. Intentional, I was sure.
When she didn’t move, I swiped a beer off some fucker walking past me and took a few long sips and a few more strides to close the distance. A dark corner was my preference anyway.
I then slid in next to Princess Peeps-Alot, the red leather booth seat squeaking as I inched her closer and closer to the middle of the table—she was doing nothing to help me move her—and slung an arm over her shoulder, emptying the little fishy I swiped from Lambo’s into her drink when she turned her head to frown at me.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
“I dunno, do you?” I replied. “Creepin’ on strangers ain’t a good look,myshka.”
“I beg to differ. I think it depends on who’s doing it.” She shrugged, her left hand reaching for her drink and bringing it to her mouth without even realizing she was moving. Idle hands liked to stay busy when they were nervous. She chugged the rest of her lukewarm cocktail before gesturing between us. “I think it looks pretty damn good on me. You, not so much.”
“So you admit you were creepin’?”
“On you? Nah, I was checking out the hottie tending bar.” She lifted her chin towards Bobby and winked. He turned a weird bright-red color, waved, and then paled just as fast when he caught my glare.
“Well, hopefully ol’ Bobs is better at licking pussy than he is at sucking cock or be prepared to be very disappointed, sugar tits.”
The girl’s jaw drooped slightly before she forced it closed again. I loved that shit. Catching someone completely off guard.Whether it was a lie or the truth didn’t matter. It kept them wondering. Their brain working overtime like mine always did. Except I was used to it.
Her eyes narrowed in on me. Squinting so hard her nose scrunched up. “You know, only two types of people say things purely for shock value.”
“That so?” I grinned, waiting for the roofie to kick in. I could hear the clock ticking down in the back of my head.Tick, tick, motherfucking tick.
“Yup.” She nodded while biting down on her bottom lip. She was getting off on the danger. On having me so close. I could smell her pussy from here. And I was getting off on her getting off.
“And what types of people are they?” I flicked her nipple through her shirt and grinned when it popped up like a daisy. Pretty and pink enough to pluck, I’d imagine.
She dropped her hand onto my lap, gliding it up and down until she was bopping the underside of the table with her knuckles. “Children who can’t self-regulate their emotions and…” She closed her teeth around the end of my ear and tugged. The warm drip on my shoulder was the only thing that told me she’d drawn blood. “…guys who don’t know how to use their dick right. Which one are you?”
She kept rubbing me through my pants. But her movements were getting more sloppy as the drugs kicked in.
“Neither. Both.” I shrugged. “Only one way to find out, Sleeping Beauty.”
I caught her head before it could make contact with the table. Like any gentleman would. Then again, so would someone who didn’t want to draw attention to the fact he was carrying an unconscious girl upstairs to hissecretapartment. So he could have his way with her, then kill her. Or kill her, then have his way with her. I wasn’t picky when the pussy was already wet.
CHAPTER SIX
CASPER
Sometimes the bossman grew a random hair on his balls, and nothing would stop him till he was finally able to pluck it out. This girl was that hair. I’d recognized her from the photo the moment I’d spotted her. She was part of that group of chicks he wanted hired to take 'em out. For a reason the slippery son of a bitch had yet to explain to anyone.
Believe me, I’d been listening.And so had Bugs.
