Some of which was now on my face.
As she untangled herself from the costume and slipped into the gold thing, I wiped the makeup and glitter off my face. And I noticed she hadn’t put on any panties. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The jumpsuit dipped low in front, showing some serious curves, and I couldn’t remember her tits ever looking so incredibly lickable while she was clothed.
“Shit,” I muttered, admiring her as I adjusted myself, trying to get comfortable in my jeans. “You know I need to fuck you again now, right?”
She tossed me a look in the mirror, where she was poking at her face. “Now I’m all messed up again,” she said, pretending to complain.
“Poor baby.” I smacked her ass. “Just be glad I didn’t come on your face again and lick it off.” I leaned in and licked her neck for emphasis.
Her mouth dropped open, and yeah, I fucking loved shocking her.
I was gonna go ahead and assume it wasn’t an easy thing to do.
As she touched up her makeup, she met my eyes in the mirror a few times. She snickered.
“What?” I said. “You don’t believe I’d do that again? Right here and now…?”
“It’s hard to take you seriously about anything when you’re still wearing the bunny ears.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her.
When she was ready to go, I opened the door for her. At the same time, I reached up and bent one of the bunny ears, cocking it askew. She laughed.
And fuck, that made me warm. Seeing her smile, because of me.
I took her back out to the party and deposited her with her friends in the VIP area. She sat down at a table with Elle, and I tried to relax a bit. I went to talk with a few of Brody’s security guys, while still keeping an eye on Summer.
Wherever she was, I knew it. I could feel it.
I could feel her.
I was connected to Summer Sorensen in a way I’d never been connected to a woman before. And no wonder.
The woman was magnetic.
It felt fucking good, and for once in my life—the first fucking time in my life, actually—I realized I was letting myself fall for a woman without worrying about her ulterior motives.
Honestly… they all had ulterior motives.
All, except Summer. She didn’t want anything from me.
Well… except the hot sex. The companionship. The respect.
Those I could freely give.
I could just relax my guard and enjoy this, see it for what it was. Which was the start of an incredible relationship with an incredible woman.
On that note, I tried to see this party for what it was. A party. And maybe enjoy the fact that I was here with my woman.
It was kinda working.
I was actually starting to have a good time… when my gaze suddenly caught on someone in the shifting crowd.
Blair.
Fucking.
Sanchuk.
It was a split second, and all I saw was his face in the crowd just beyond the VIP area.
I was instantly in motion.
I tore through the VIP area and leapt right over the velvet rope. I slapped Andre on the chest as I passed and shouted in his ear, “Stay on Summer!”
Then I plunged into the crowd.
Adrenaline hammered through my veins as I zig-zagged through the bodies, trying to get a lock on him again. Difficult, because he was in costume. He was wearing a dark hood.
Every-fucking-one was in costume.
But it was him.
I saw his fucking rat face. I’d seen pictures of the asshole and I’d studied that face, memorized it.
I caught a glimpse of the hood, and pushed past people, trying to get to him. But he was too far away. He kept moving, and I realized he was heading for the front door.
He was leaving in a damn hurry.
Maybe he’d seen all the security in the VIP area. Or seen me on his tail.
But I wasn’t fucking losing him this time.
Going after him half-cocked, though, was a bad idea…
I was about to pull out my phone to get backup, when a familiar face appeared in front of me. Maddox, with a beer in his hand.
I grabbed him by his white greaser costume T-shirt. I’d only realized, when I saw the other bikers and figured out he was in costume, that he wasn’t on duty tonight.
“What’s goin’ on?” he said.
“Come,” was all I managed, tugging him with me, and he fell in step.
By the time we reached the front door of the club, I’d lost sight of Sanchuk. I dove out the door, Maddox right behind me.
Sanchuk was there, weaseling his way through the crowd outside the club, and I grabbed him, shoving him away from the club door. I ripped back his hood to make sure, and yup.
Rat bastard looked right at me.
He took a swing, which I blocked. I twisted his arm behind his back, hard, and shoved him around the side of the building, into the alley. He tried to turn around, but I slammed him up against the wall and punched him in the kidneys for good measure, making him crumble.
Then Maddox jumped in. He ripped Sanchuk from me and shoved him to the ground. He’d ditched his beer somewhere along the way, and his lack of hesitation to jump right in to help me scored him some major points.
I was coming to like this kid.
He put his booted foot on Sanchuk’s back, holding him down, as I caught my breath. Trying to overcome a grown man who didn’t want to be overcome, struggling with him and punching him, wasn’t like in the movies. It wasn’t effortless.
I’d be feeling that punch tomorrow. My knuckles were already swelling.
I’d hit him hard.
Sanchuk peered up at us, groaning. That kidney shot would be fucking him up for days.
“What…?” he wheezed. “What the fuck…?”
“Blair Sanchuk,” I growled. “Nice to fucking meet you.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Hey!” someone called out, and I glanced back. A couple
