The pretty chick with the cue stick was someone he’d love to seduce. Her ebony hair swayed as she twisted her sexy body to make the shots. He’d love to yank a fistful of her long hair as he slammed his cock into her from behind.
“Muerto? Did you fill my order?” Jaime asked as she placed the tray on the bar.
“What? Sorry. I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me.” He grabbed several beer bottles from the refrigerated shelves and popped them open.I got my mind on her. She’s so damn hot.He placed the bottles and three shots of Jack on the tray. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” She threw him a warm smile and headed over to the pool table where the woman was playing the game.
“I won,” she said as she clapped her hands gleefully.
“See, you got lucky,” Cory said as he took the beer from Jaime. “You wanna up the bet to a hundred bucks?”
Muerto jerked his chin at Army and Goldie as they walked in and placed two shots of Jack Daniels No. 27 Gold on the bar. “I thought you guys were at Lust,” Muerto said as the two brothers sat down on the barstools.
“We were, but there wasn’t anything much going on there. Tuesday nights are pretty slow.” Goldie finished his shot. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“Only the best for the brothers,” Muerto said as he poured him another one. “Fiona wasn’t dancing tonight?”
“What difference would that make? I went there to check out the women and have a few beers with the brothers.” Goldie threw back his shot.
“Fuck that. You went for Fiona. We all know you have a boner for her.” Army swung around on the barstool and whistled softly. “Talk about having a boner, check out the chick with the tight pants and luscious ass.”
Anger pricked at Muerto’s skin. “Cool it, dudes. She’s a customer.”
Army looked over his shoulder. “And why do we give a shit about that? You’ve fucked a few customers.”
“I mean she’s a regular.”Why the fuck am I saying this lame shit?“We kinda got a new policy in here where we don’t mess with the women customers.”
“When did you get that policy, ’cause you didn’t have it last week when you were fuckin’ that blonde in the storeroom.”
“Just leave it andherthe hell alone.” Fire began to burn in Muerto’s veins as he scowled at Army.
Goldie laughed. “I think what he’s sayin’ is he wants to fuck her, so stay back.”
Before he could reply, Crow came out and the brothers began talking about their favorite thing—Harleys. After a couple hours of making drinks, bullshitting with the brothers, and washing what felt like his hundredth glass, loud voices pulled him away from the conversation with Goldie and Army. He looked over at the table with the hot chick and saw that a large group had formed near it.
“Watch the bar,” he said to Goldie. “I wanna see what’s going on.” He took a few steps toward the table and saw the black-haired beauty’s steely eyes as she aimed her cue stick before taking her shot. She aced the ball in the pocket, then went around the table and took another shot. Balls rolled every which way, all of them landing in the side pockets.
He quirked his lips as he watched her, admiring her grace and accuracy as she shot down the cocky bastard who, by the looks of it, bet a wad of bills on the game. When she landed the last ball, she calmly picked up the money, counted it, and tucked it in her front pocket, although he didn’t know how it fit in her skintight jeans.She’s got fuckin’ nerves of steel.
“You hustled me, bitch!” Cory yelled.
She looked at him coolly. “You’ve never lost to a woman before, have you? I won the game fair and square.”
“Bullshit.” He glanced around the area at the men perched on the high-backed chairs. “Am I right? You all saw it. This bitch conned me.”
The only ones in agreement were the player’s friends. The other men stared placidly at him.
“Take it like a man,Cory,” she said. “Next time you may be the winner and have someone accusing you. There’s always a winner and a loser in every game.” She shrugged on her leather jacket, guzzled the last of her beer, and walked away.
Cory jumped in front of her, his face bloated and red. “I want my money back, you fucking bitch.” He grabbed her arms tightly.
Ready to intervene, Muerto laughed when she kicked Cory in the shin. When he raised his hand to punch her, Muerto rushed over and grabbed it in midair. “Hitting chicks isn’t allowed.” His voice was hard and gravelly.
“Do you allow stealing? The bitch hustled me. She’s a goddamn pool shark.”
Her throaty laugh fell over Muerto, and he liked that it made his dick twitch. It occurred to him that ever since he’d spotted her rounded ass in those jeans, his dick had been on high alert.
“You must’ve spent the weekend watching old movies. ‘Pool shark,’ what a joke.” She zipped up her jacket.
