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I’m faintly aware of Rogue mumbling under his breath, but I couldn’t care less what he’s saying. The woman dressed in tight black jeans and a purple sheer tank with a blank bra underneath is a far cry from the sick woman I encountered a week ago. I’d bet my life that she borrowed the outfit from Jez, and I make a mental note to thank Soul’s twin later.
Fucking hell, she looks stunning in club colors.
Glancing around the room, I see that every single person in Purgatory is captivated by Apple. Whether it’s her voice, her outfit, the lyrics, or just her in general, I have no clue. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t like it. The jealousy that snakes through me is such an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling, that I make every effort to ignore her presence.
I fail miserably.
“Hey, Malice.”
I turn to see Skye, the bartender, holding a beer and smiling.
“Hey.” I nod at the beer. “That for me?”
She thrusts it at me. “Yep. Rogue asked me to bring it over.” She glances over her shoulder toward the bar. “Waylon sidetracked him with a question.”
Taking the beer from her, I nod as if I give a damn when all I really care about is her disappearing so I can listen to Apple sing. “Thanks.”
Skye stands there for a few more minutes, but then she seems to get the hint and walks away. I tip the bottle to my lips and almost choke when I return my full attention to Apple.
Rage burns through my veins as I watch a man pull money out of his back pocket and toss it on the stage at her feet. I take a few steps forward, but when Apple stops mid-song and steps on the man’s wrist with a booted foot, I freeze.
She levels her gaze on him and grins. “Honey, I’m singing, not stripping. The tip jar is right over there,” she says, nodding toward a jar at the edge of the stage. “And if it’s nudity you want, I suggest you try the strip joint across town. I hear they’ve got all sorts of entertainment the likes of you might enjoy.” She stares him down for a moment longer before straightening and looking out over the crowd. “Now, where was I?”
Holy shit, she’s amazing.
Within seconds, she’s belting out another song and has everyone under her spell, and I’m trying not to be obvious about having to adjust myself. And the man who tried to toss money at her? Well, he’s being escorted out by Grim, who I hadn’t even realized was here.
I slowly weave my way through the tables and people to get closer. As if we’re linked by an invisible tether, her eyes cut to mine, and if I’m not mistaken, her nostrils flare. The lighting is dim as hell, and there’s a smoky haze in the air, but I see what I see. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. Because if her nostrils didn’t flare, then the lust I’m feeling is only gonna lead to some very lonely, painful nights.
Blue balls, here I come.
“I’ve had a blast here tonight,” Apple says into the microphone. “But there’s one more song I’d like to sing before wrapping it up. It’s an original that I wrote while laid up in bed this past week, sick as a dog. It’s calledMalicious Intentions, and I hope you enjoy it.”
The crowd cheers while Apple walks to the side of the stage and lifts a guitar out of its case. I follow her every move. Her slender fingers strum over the guitar strings, and I imagine what they’d feel like wrapped around my dick.
As soon as she opens her mouth, the cheers die down, and each person in the bar begins to hang on her every word. I’m so invested in what she’s singing, I barely register that Grim walks back inside and comes to stand next to me. I wonder if Apple knows she’s so good that a giant of a man becomes almost invisible.
When the song ends, Grim smacks my arm to get my attention, and I swivel my head to look at him.
“She’s good.”
I dart my eyes from him to Apple and back again and then tuck my forgotten beer bottle under my arm so I can respond. “How do you know that?” Grim narrows his eyes as if offended, and I shake my hands before signing again. “No, man, I’m serious. How do you know she’s good when you can’t hear her?”
“Same way I know other music is good. I can feel the beat, the vibrations.” He pauses and smirks. “Plus, you’ve been grinning like a stupid fool since the moment you walked in here. You don’t grin, Malice. So, she must be good.”
Grim walks away before I can argue with him, which is probably for the best because I’m sure his assessment is annoyingly accurate. I watch as he makes his way back toward the door and takes his post as bouncer. He’s not the official bouncer for Purgatory, but when he’s here, he can’t help himself.
“What are you doing here?”
I look to my left, and my heart skips a beat.
What the fuck?
Apple is standing there with one hip cocked and her arms crossed over her chest. This close to her, I can make out her smooth skin beneath the sheer tank, and it does nothing to cool my burning arousal.
She waves her hand in front of my face. “Hello, anyone home?”
I swat her arm away. “What are you doing?”
