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“What the-” Penny squeaked, but before she could finish her sentence, there was another flash.
Another thud. A few inches higher up Sophie’s arm, another knife quivered.
And then something much larger flew in front of her. A flash of darkness. Of solid muscle and long curling brown hair. Something that made a gentle “hmm,” sound as it engulfed Sophie, but no other sound.
Penny gulped and blinked to focus on the man in front of her, holding Sophie around her neck with one large, strong-looking hand.
Penny opened her mouth to cry out but one look at Sophie and she held her tongue. Sophie was smiling up at the brute of a man in front of her. He was stockier than Colt, not as tall, not as regal. Fiercer. Darker. He held Sophie with an intensity that Penny both feared and admired. He looked as if he would kill for Sophie, as if he would die for her, as if he would descend into hell and make it back out alive for her, if she asked it of him.
Penny could only look on in awe.
Sophie seemed calm as the monster of a man squeezed her throat and brought his face in. He sniffed her and rubbed her face, all stubble, all over Sophie’s peaches and cream cheeks. He gnawed gently on Sophie’s ear, like a dog on a bone.
Penny didn’t dare breathe and could make out the faintest, quietest little sigh from him. “Sugar Plum,” he whispered into Sophie’s ear, like a prayer offered up to the heavens.
Sophie tilted her chin to pull away from his face for a moment, but reached for his other hand. Grasping it in hers.
“Penny, this is Phantom.”
The monster-man, Phantom, ripped his gaze from Sophie to regard Penny. Dark brown chocolate eyes and an oddly cute little face met her. He looked like an animal, sussing out whether Penny was a threat.
He decided no. He almost snorted. Then reached forward between the two women and retrieved his knives. Sophie slithered off the chair.
Penny gulped. “Well, I’ll head home for a quiet night-”
Sophie turned directly to her. “Stay, Penny, wait for Nix and Ash, you said you had made arrangements? Then they’ll be back. Who knows, you may find the night is noisier than you thought it would be.”
Lyle glowered from the corner at her. He hoped she felt the back of her head burning under the intensity of his gaze. He wanted her to burn. Not with shame. She shouldn’t feel ashamed. Not for fucking Nix and Ash. But he did want her to feel shame for ignoring him.
He watched as she readjusted herself on the stool after Sophie had left with Phantom. She was clearly self-conscious. Now she had no company. She flashed a little self conscious look back at the room. Then, she saw the cat in his basket at the other end of the bar. Dane, the barman, saw her looking and picked up Shadow, the resident MC black tom cat, his bed and all, and brought them over to her.
She mellowed immediately, stroking the sleepy cat, cajoling in a high pitched voice, as the cat butted her hand for more strokes. She let out a little jolt when she obviously came across Shadow’s missing back legs. Poor cat, he was found out on the highway, he’d been hit by a car and no one had fucking bothered to stop and help him. Except Colt. Colt had even got a little cat wheelchair contraption made for Shadow. And the determined little cat wheeled himself about the clubhouse like he owned the place.
Lyle continued to glower at her, watching her enjoy herself, a moment of innocent, pure joy with the little animal. He dialed his gaze up a notch to a scorching glare now.
And finally, finally, she looked up. Straight at him. Finally, she had noticed Lyle at the opposite end of the bar. He scowled at her.
She pursed her lips defiantly, tossed her hair over her shoulders, held her head up, and marched toward the exit.
“Oh, I don’t even get a hello or a goodbye?” was his bitter mutter from beside her, when she was as close as she was going to get if she kept walking to the door.
She paused and turned frostily. “I didn’t think you would want me to say anything to you,” she hissed.
“Why the fuck not?”
She gritted her teeth, and Lyle watched her jaw flex. “You passed me on, Lyle, like I was a… cheap whore or a… toy or something.”
He frowned deeply. He didn’t understand why she was annoyed with him. “You wanted to fuck… you fucked, right?”
Her cheeks flushed. “It’s none of your business.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Nix gave you what you wanted, right?”
She snorted. “That’s not the point-”
“Fucking hell, fine, I’m the bad guy,” he said, raised his hands and leaned back on the bar stool. “I treated you like a woman who wanted to fuck, fucking shoot me, but I thought that’s what you wanted, Penny. I fucked myself up and couldn’t give you what you came for… you walked out the next day having got what you came for, am I right?”
She humphed.
