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“All right, I think I got this one right.” Isa presented him with a small tumbler. Since arriving, she’d tried and failed to make a correct whiskey sour. Heaven help him, but he admired her persistence.
Using a small straw, Doc dipped it in the drink, then brought it to his mouth. “You’re sure?”
She nodded confidently, so he tasted it. Keeping her gaze, he let her wallow in uncertainty. The way she pouted her lips made it too tempting to pass up.
“Well?”
He tossed the straw in the garbage bin. “It’s perfect, Isa. Good job.”
She beamed and hugged him before he could stop her.
“All right, all right. Why don’t you check on Snoop and Rubble? They’re probably getting low on drinks.”
Isa didn’t need to be told twice. She walked out from behind the bar, and Doc watched her sweet ass sway out of sight.
“Got a little drool there, brother,” Brewer said, flicking his chin.
Doc cleared his throat and eyed the other man. A knowing grin lined Brewer’s face, and he wanted to wipe it right off. “A man can look.”
“Mmhmm, but you don’t want to merely look.”
Brewer went to help a customer, stealing Doc’s opportunity to chew him out. His brother wasn’t wrong, though. He did want to do more than look at Isa’s jeaned ass.
Focusing back on the three drink orders, Doc didn’t think about Isa again until he heard a ruckus toward the Greenback crew. He glanced their direction and had to do a double take.
“Is that…?”
He tossed the ice out of the glass he was prepping. “Yep, it is.”
Brewer chuckled. “Well, damn. She fits in real well.”
Doc shot him a glare and hurried from behind the bar. He fought through the crowd, never taking his eyes from Isa’s long hair. Reaching her, he steeled himself for the inevitable backlash. She was dangerously close to the Cutthroats, and the bikers had no issue with telling her exactly what each one wanted to do with her long legs.
“Isa, we need you at the bar,” he said, grabbing her wrist.
Isa turned guarded eyes to him, and he swore he noticed a flash of relief. How the hell she’d moved from helping Macha to serving the bar, he needed to know the moment he got her out of there.
“Nah, Macha, I think this little filly will stay here a while with us,” the biggest Cutthroats member said, tugging on Isa’s other wrist. She toppled onto his lap, and the seven bikers surrounding them laughed.
Doc casually smiled at each one, silently sizing them up. He couldn’t handle them all. Not without help.
“Sorry, I really need her.”
The Cutthroat trapped Isa on his lap with his arm across her breast. Ice flowed through Doc’s veins at the look of sheer horror on her beautiful face.
“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble. Just need my girl back.” He took a step closer, willing himself to stay cool. An all-out bar brawl wouldn’t be good for business.
The highest-ranking Cutthroat chuckled darkly, his eyes equally black. “She your woman?”
Doc glanced around at the bikers slowly closing in on them. “She’s one of our girls. You know how we like to keep them close.”
“One of your nymphs, then?” The biker smiled. “Perfect, I could use a nice blow job.” He yanked on Isa’s long hair, and Doc gritted his teeth at the terrified sound that escaped her. “How ’bout it, sweetheart? Suck me good, and then I’ll fuck you like no other.” He nodded at his men. “Maybe even let my brothers have a taste of your milky skin.”
“I’ll bet she’d like it in every hole at once,” one of the Cutthroats said, and the rest eagerly agreed.
The big man nuzzled Isa’s neck. “I’ll fuck you raw, then pass you around my brothers before I fuck you again.”
The Cutthroats let out a unified “Whoop,” and that was it. Doc threw the first punch before his brain registered what he was doing. All hell broke out, but he didn’t give a shit. He busted a nose and heard the unsettling crackle of bones in another man’s jaw. The tangy taste of blood sent Doc sprawling backward, a Cutthroat jabbing him with his elbow when Doc tried to pry Isa out of his grip.
