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ABSOLUTELY NOT.
The words hovered at the tip of his tongue, but Screw bit them off. It fucking hurt though, and he swore he could taste the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth from restraining himself so hard.
He had no logical reason to stick around and witness their sappy reunion. No right to be a part of their private conversation that would no doubt involve some emotional crap.
Screw didn’t do emotional crap. He had no claim on Jazz and didn’t want one.
He wanted to fuck the woman. Long, hard, and deep, but that was it.
And yes, he wanted her safe, but she assured him she was and so far, nothing about this Gumby asshole—what the hell kinda name was Gumby, anyway—so far nothing about him screamed threatening.
“Sure,” he said, sounding much more flippant than he felt. After scooting out of the booth, he stood and looked at Gumby. “She doesn’t leave your sight. Had some shit going on in the area lately and she’s protected by the club.”
Though concern crossed his features, Gumby nodded. “Got it.”
“And you,” he said staring down at Jazz. “You do not leave here without a tail. Either this fucker follows you home, then you text me, or you text before you leave. Someone will come. Got it?”
Jazz rolled her eyes but nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said with sass, but goddamn she had no idea what that did to his cock.
Gumby did though. His nostrils flared, and pupils dilated. Was he imagining Jazz calling him sir? Maybe while he fucked her? Maybe while Screw fucked her.
He nearly laughed out loud. That’d be something. Since he’d been shooting death glares at Gumby from the moment the guy walked into his clubhouse, he hadn’t taken the time to really look at the other man. Now that the dust had settled, he did just that.
The guy was a looker, no doubt about it. Taller than Screw by a few inches, he didn’t have the mass or brawn that Screw had, but he had strength. Long, lean, runner’s muscles. Just the kind that Screw liked to run his hands or tongue all over. An image of Gumby naked and spread out in his bed flashed though his mind, only Gumby wasn’t the only star of this show. No, Jazz was there too, between his legs, sucking him off. She was on her knees, bent forward with one hand on either side of Gumby’s hips as she bobbed up and down on his cock. The position left her wet pussy open and perfectly lined with Screw’s cock.
Would she gasp and pop off Gumby’s dick as he pushed into her, unable to continue with her task as the pleasure ramped? Or would she clamp down, sucking harder and stronger as she took his cock?
Shit. Now he was hard as a fucking stone and turned the hell on by the two people at the table. Well, he might as well enjoy the fantasy, because that particular one would never come to fruition.
“Screw?” Jazz asked with a frown.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just thinking. You’ll text, right?”
She nodded, forehead wrinkled.
“Say it.”
“I’ll text.”
“Okay.” Thankfully, she seemed oblivious to the predicament in his pants.
He turned to Gumby, who was clearly not oblivious because his gaze was directed straight at Screw’s crotch, which twitched under the visual attention.
Interesting.
“Not out of your sight.”
Gumby jerked his gaze up to meet Screws, a flush coloring his cheeks. Embarrassment at being caught? Or something else? Dare he hope…arousal?
Not that it fucking mattered.
“Not out of my sight.” Gumby stood and extended his hand.
His leather jacket fit him like a glove, and those dark jeans sat low on his trim hips. Jesus, he needed to get fucking laid.
“Promise I’ll take good care of her.” This time there wasn’t any innuendo, just a genuine promise.
“Yea, I just bet you will.” Screw slid his palm across Gumby’s, clasping the frowning man’s hand. The second their skin touched; electricity fired up Screw’s arm. Gumby’s hands were large with long, strong fingers and calluses. Fuck if that wasn’t one of the things Screw liked best about being with a man. Sure, a woman’s soft silky hands were amazing, but sometimes he just craved the rougher touch of a man who worked with his hands.
“You going back to the party?” Jazz asked.
Was he? He should. The party was partly in his honor after all, yet the urge to let loose had long fled him. Still… “Where else would I go?” he asked with a wink. “That’s where all the willing women are gonna be tonight. Think I’m in the mood for something short and red headed.” He wagged his eyebrows.
If he hadn’t spent so much time over the past few months studying Jazz, he’d have missed the flicker of sadness that crossed her features. What did she expect? He was gonna pine after her while she walked down memory lane with this guy?
