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Well, saved him except for that one time.
"God... you are so tight." In Qhuinn's absence, the girls were all over Blay, especially Betty, who seemed to think he was a stroking post.
Blay had no game, evidently, because he had no quick comeback. But he was definitely not brushing them off, letting Betty's hands go wherever they wanted.
Qhuinn sauntered over from the bar to the sound of brass balls clanging. Jesus, he was in his zone, two Coronas in each hand, eyes leveled on the girls. He moved like he was already having sex, his hips shifting with his stride, his shoulders doing the roll of a guy whose parts were in working order and ready to be used.
Man, the girls were eating that shit up, their eyes flaring as he came through the crowd.
"Ladies, I need a tip for my efforts." He slipped Blay one of the beers, took a swig of another, and held the other pair over his head. "Gimme a little of what I want."
Betty was on the ball, putting both her hands on his chest and stretching up. Qhuinn tilted his head a little, but didn't help her much. Which only made her work harder. As their lips met, Qhuinn's lifted into a smile... and reached out and pulled the other girl close. Betty didn't seem to mind in the slightest, and helped draw her friend in.
"Let's go to the bathroom," Betty stage-whispered.
Qhuinn leaned around Betty and laid a French kiss on her friend. "Blay? You want to join us?"
Blay threw back his beer, swallowing hard. "Nah, I'm going to hang out. Just want to chill."
His eyes called his bluff when they flipped to John for a split second.
Which pissed John off. I don't need a babysitter.
"I know, buddy."
The girls frowned as they hung from Qhuinn's shoulders like a set of drapes, as if John was being a buzz-kill drama queen. And they looked positively bitched when Qhuinn started to back off from them.
John pegged his buddy with hard eyes. Don't you f**king dare think of bailing. I will never speak to you again.
Betty cocked her head, her blond hair slipping over Qhuinn's forearm. "What's wrong?"
John signed, Tell her nothing is wrong and go get laid. I'm f**king serious, Qhuinn.
Qhuinn signed back, Don't feel right leaving you.
"Is something wrong?" Betty chirped.
If you don't go, I'm leaving. I will walk out of this club, Qhuinn. For real.
Qhuinn's eyes closed briefly. Then before Betty could something-wrong them all again, he said, "Let's go ladies. We'll be right back."
As Qhuinn pivoted around and the girls shimmied away with him, John signed, Blay, go get laid. I'll wait here. When his friend didn't reply, he sighed, Blay? Getcha ass going!
There was a moment's hesitation. "I can't."
Why?
"Because I... ah, I promised I wouldn't leave you."
John went cold. Promised who?
Blaylock's cheeks fired up bright as a traffic light. "Zsadist. Right after I went through the change, he took me aside after class and said that if we ever went out with you... you know."
Anger seeped into John's head and made his skull hum.
"Just until your change, John."
John shook his head, because that was what you did when you had no voice and you wanted to scream. In a rush, the pounding behind his eyes came back.
Tell you what, he signed. You're worried about me, give me your gun.
At that moment a smoking-hot brunette walked by in a bustier and a pair of pants that looked they'd been put on her with a Spackle trowel. Blay's eyes latched onto her and the air changed around him, his body throwing off heat.
Blay, what is going to happen to me here? Even if Lash brings it -
"He's been banned from this club. That's why I wanted to come here."
How do you... Lemme guess - Zsadist. Did he tell you we could only come here?
"Maybe."
Give me the gun. Get moving.
The brunette took up res at the bar and looked over her shoulder. Right at Blay.
You aren't leaving me. We're both in the club. And I'm really getting pissed here.
There was a pause. Then the gun changed hands and Blay downed his beer like he was nervous as shit.
Good luck, John signed.
"Fuck, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not even sure I want to do this."
You do want to. And you'll figure it out. Now go before she finds someone else.
When John was finally alone, he leaned back against the wall and crossed his little ankles. Watching the crowd, he envied them.
Not long thereafter, a shock of recognition went through him, as if someone had called his name. He looked around, wondering if Blay or Qhuinn had hollered for him. Nope. Qhuinn and the blondes were nowhere to be seen, and Blay was cautiously leaning into the brunette at the bar.
Except he was sure someone was calling him.
John got serious about the looking, focusing on the crowd in front of him. There were people everywhere, and yet no one in particular around, and he was about to decide he was nuts when he saw a stranger he knew completely.
The female was standing in the shadows at the end of the bar, the pink and blue glow from the backlit liquor bottles barely illuminating her. Tall and built hard as a man, she had supershort dark hair and a don't-fuck-with-me face that announced loud and clear that you screwed with her at your own risk. Her eyes were lethally smart, fighter-serious and... leveled on him.
His body went into instant flip-out, like someone was buffing his skin to a high shine while spanking him with a two-by-four: He was instantly breathless and dizzy and flushed, but at least he forgot about his headache.
Sweet Jesus, she was coming over.
Her walk was one of power and confidence, like she was stalking prey, and men who weighed more than her got out of her way quick as mice. As she approached, John fumbled with his windbreaker, trying to make himself look more masculine. Which was such a joke.
Her voice was deep. "I'm security at this club, and I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
She took his arm without waiting for a reply and led him into a dark hallway. Before he knew what was happening, she pushed him into what was obviously an interrogation room and nailed him to the wall like a velvet Elvis.
As her forearm pushed into his windpipe and he gasped, she patted him down. Her hand was fast and impersonal as it went over his chest and down to his hips.
John closed his eyes and shuddered. Holy shit, this was a turn-on. If he'd been able to get an erection, he was quite sure he'd be hammer-hard right now.
And then he remembered that Blay's unmarked gun was in the big back pocket of the pants he'd borrowed.
Shit.
In the equipment room at the compound, Jane sat down on the bench that would let her see the guy she'd operated on. She was waiting for V to finish his cigarette, and the faint whiff of his exotic tobacco tingled in her nose.
God, that dream of him. The way his hand moved between her -
As an ache started, she crossed her legs and squeezed them together.
"Jane?"
She cleared her throat. "Yes?"
His voice was low as it drifted through the open door, a sensual, disembodied drawl. "What are you thinking about, Jane?"
Oh, yeah, right, like she was going to tell him that she was fantasizing -
Wait a minute. "You already know, don't you?" When he was silent, she frowned. "Was that a dream? Or did you..."
No reply.
She leaned forward until she could see him through the jamb. He was exhaling while he tucked the butt into a bottle of water.
"What did you do to me?" she demanded.
He screwed the cap on tight, the muscles of his forearms flexing. "Nothing you didn't want me to."
Even though he wasn't looking at her, she pointed her finger at him like it was a gun. "I told you. Stay out of my head."
His eyes flipped to hers. Oh... God... they were burning white as stars, hot as the sun. The instant they hit her face her sex bloomed for him, a mouth opening wide, ready to be fed.
"No," she said, although she didn't know why she bothered. Her body spoke for itself, and he damn well knew it.
V's lips lifted in a hard smile, and he breathed in deeply. "I love your scent right now. Makes me want to do more than just get in your head."
Okaaaaaaay, evidently he liked women in addition to men.
Abruptly his expression faded. "But don't worry. I won't go there."
"Why not?" As the question popped out, Jane cursed herself. If you told a man you didn't want him, and then he said he wouldn't have sex with you, generally the reaction you wanted to lead with was not something that sounded like a protest.
