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The man is stirring shit, and he knows it, smirking at me. My fingers itch to plant a fist in his face. Joey is staring at me, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“Why?” she asks at last. I shrug, taking a mouthful of whiskey. Because she’s a sweet, innocent little thing, and I don’t want anyone taking advantage of her? Because I like having her around, and if she’s sleeping across the hall, I know she’s safe.
“She needed a place to go,” I settle on.
“Why, Viper. I didn’t know you had a heart,” Nance purrs, sliding off the barstool next to Joey and moving beside me, slipping her hand under my T-shirt to run her fingers over my abs.
I remove her hand, stepping away from her. “I don’t. But Naomi works here, and she needed a place to go.”
“See. A heart,” Nance teases and pouts. Joey snorts, standing and moving to my other side, giggling with Nance as they rub their hands over my abs and pecs.
Shooting a smirking Merch a death glare, I awkwardly hold my arm over Nance’s head, draining my whiskey. No Peaches, and nowthis. Some fucking party.
Trent has another whiskey waiting for me. I snatch it up, using the movement to extricate myself from Nance and Joey. I flip Merch off – he grins and walks away – and stride past them, over to the other end of the bar where Fangs has stepped up.
“Never thought I’d see the day you turned down a threesome,” he snorts. Glancing over my shoulder, I shoot a dark glare at Joey and Nance, who are demanding drinks from Trent. He waves at them, walking down to us to get Fangs a rum and coke.
“I have no intention of selling my soul to the devil for the fleeting pleasure,” I growl. Fangs smirks, his eyes darting over my shoulder again.
“I heard something about bad blood.”
“It’s Joey. Something is always the worst thing in the world.”
“And it’s never her fault.” Fangs chuckles, grinning as another hand rubs over my abs. At least this one isovermy shirt. I glance down at honey blonde hair, and Paige tips her head back, batting her lashes up at me.
I wince as harsh perfume swirls around my nostrils. I never noticed the strong smell before. It’s never bothered me before. I can’t help thinking of the light peach scent clinging to Naomi’s hair and skin. It’s so much nicer.
Fangs starts to talk about generic club stuff – how busy the strip club is and things like that – anything that can be talked about in front of groupies. Paige is a bartender at the strip club, so she occasionally adds something to the conversation, but mainly, she’s trying to tempt me by rubbing herself all over me.
I used to have a deal with her and Lila – when they wanted a cock to spice up their hookups – but they got weird about it, so I fucking bailed. I haven’t hooked up with Paige since then, but she seems eager right now.
Ignoring her wandering hands, I keep chatting with Fangs, wondering what Peaches is doing at home. Probably laundry. That seems like something she would do on a Friday night. The corners of my lips tug at the thought.
Paige’s wandering hands rub against my cock through my jeans. I think I’m fucking done for the night.
Setting my empty whiskey glass down, I rap my knuckles on the bar, nodding to Fangs.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Have a good night.” He winks, smirking as he turns away, striding over to Nance and Joey. Shanna intercepts him, sliding her hand up his back.
Waving off the calls to join people playing pool or chatting, I step outside, turning for the row of gleaming motorcycles. Reaching mine, I frown as a giggle rings out. Slinging my leg over my rig, I raise my eyebrows when Paige throws her long hair over her shoulder, reaching for my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Going with you to fuck,” she laughs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Where the fuck did she get that idea from?
I shrug her hand off my shoulder, gunning my engine.
“Not happening,” I growl, leaving her staring after me with a small frown as I peel out of the compound, heading for home.
Chapter 7
NAOMI
The house is quiet, though I can hear the usual sounds of the South Side floating through the windows. They’re familiar and make me smile. Shouting, arguments, loud parties – those kinds of things. I might be on the outskirts, but I’m still on the South Side. Still home.
With that in mind, I narrow my apartment search to the South Side, frowning as I tap around on my phone. I hit the wrong button and enter the wrong search criteria, gritting my teeth as I wait for the screen to load.
