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Ouch.
“Golden showers aren’t my thing, but I’m down to try it if you are?” I know mocking her and playing with her is starting to get on her nerves, but the truth is, the more pissed off she gets the calmer I become.
“I’d rather eat glass.”
“You wound me, baby.”
“I’m not your fucking—”
“What did you need, Chanel?” I cut in not wanting to hear her bullshit threats. I know I fucked up and I hurt her but I never meant to. Everything else may have been a lie but my feelings for her were all real.
“I want a meet.”
That surprises me. “Why?”
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
“Stop being a fucking dick!”
“You used to love my dick.” I can’t manage to stop myself from taunting her. This is the most she has spoken to me without threatening to murder me and then piss on my corpse before she burns my body. My girl has a bit of a temper problem.
My girl?
I push that thought away as she answers, “I also loved faking coming all over your undersized cock just to help inflate your ego, but hey, we all have our vices, right, baby?”
A humorless laugh escapes me at her throwing my own words back at me. “I’ll meet you at VanVoorhis in an hour.” I end the call without waiting for her reply as I pull up out front of my apartment.
* * *
Forty five minutes later, I’m showered, changed and sitting in a booth at the back of the local pub VanVoorhis waiting for the star of all my wet dreams to arrive. It’s a Friday night so it’s extra crowded in here. I took a gamble guessing she was in Fort Lauderdale so I told her to meet here just to gauge if I was right. She has never asked for a meet before and to be honest, I am worried that this is an ambush—but there is also another part of me that knows she won’t kill me.
If Chanel Murelo wanted me dead, she would have murdered my sorry ass two years ago when she found out I was undercover at UNLV.
The moment she enters the crowded pub, my breath hitches. Her long hair is tied in a high ponytail atop her head. She wears a white shirt that clings to her ample chest, and the black leather jacket she wears is for style not warmth given it’s one of those crop jackets. I run my gaze down her legs and groan, she’s wearing skin-tight white jeans with black leather boots that reach her knees.
Jesus Christ, I’m rock fucking hard at the sight of her. When her brown eyes land on me, the easy look on her face vanishes and is replaced with loathing as she makes her way toward me, ignoring the stares of every male in this joint openly checking her out. I grit my teeth to keep myself from snapping at them to fucking look away and stop staring at her tits and ass. Chanel isn’t like most women, she uses the assets God gave her to her advantage to get what she wants. She places her hand at the end of the diner-style table, cocks her hip to the side and peers down her nose at me.
“Loki.” I recline back on the bench seat and quirk a brow at her.
“Loki?”
She shrugs and smirks deviously. “Well, he was the master prankster after all and I feel the name is fitting since you pulled off the best prank of all time.”
“Which was?” She folds over the table and gets right in my face leaving a tiny sliver of space between us. If I pucker my lips I could kiss her.
“I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours?”
I keep my face relaxed as I reach out and grip the back of her neck, grinning when a small moan comes from her. “How about I show you mine and you show me yours?” I taunt.
Her eyes glimmer with triumph which gives me pause. “Okay, me first.” When I feel the distinct feeling of a knife pressed to my side, my eyes widen. I didn’t even feel her shift to grab her knife. Wait, the better question is where the fuck did she manage to stash that thing on her body?
“You gonna stab me, baby?” For one split second her mask of bitchiness slips and I see the torment of emotions in her eyes before she quickly masks it.
“If you don’t tell me what I want to know, yes.” I open my mouth to answer but at that moment I spot Romeo and Xavier making their way over to us. I grip her wrist that holds the knife and use my hold on her neck and wrist to swing her tiny body around so she is on the bench seat next to me. She struggles for a second, but stills the moment the guys make it to our table, grinning like a couple college kids. The dirty minx beside me shifts. I feel her wrist brush my inner thigh and I throw my arm around her shoulders, then tense the second I feel the point of her blade press against my cock.
“Kacey, what’s up, man.” Chanel stiffens beside me. Fuck. Romeo flicks his gaze from me to stare at Chanel with a cunning smirk on his face. “And who might you be, darling?”
