Dinner had been for them. The bar was so everyone else would know he was staking his claim. He knew she wanted him. Every thought in her head showed in those green eyes. He wanted her, too, so he was letting the rest of town know she was off limits.
They arrived an hour ago. She’d finished the bottle of wine at his house, was nursing a glass now. He had a feeling it had been a long time since she’d let her hair down. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, so he watched her while she taunted Liam at a game of pool.
“Ten bucks a shot,” she said.
“You a hustler, Cedar?”
She grinned. “I’ve been playing for years,” she said, leaning against the table. “Years.”
Liam was damn good at pool, and not one to turn down a challenge, he racked the balls. “You’re on.”
“Alright,” Cedar said, putting her glass on the table behind her, and then walked over for a pool stick. “I hope I’m not taking your lunch money,” she teased, making a production of chalking the tip. A few guys moved closer, but one look from Killian, and they backed off.
“Ladies first,” Liam said.
She grinned, moved into position, leaned over the table and lined up the cue. No one was behind her, or he’d be across the room. He wished he was, so he could see her long legs, the hem of her dress rising higher. That dress. It was bright as fuck, but it was sexy as hell. He wanted to pull the string of the halter, wanted to see her breasts spilling out. She wasn’t wearing a bra, a fact not lost on any of the men in the bar. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the fabric. Fuck, he wanted her dress around her waist and his mouth and hands on her. The crotch of his jeans grew tight. He took a long pull from his beer, watched her line up the shot, and then take it. Silence followed because the ball missed all the other balls, bounced right off the table, hit the floor and rolled.
His focus shifted back to Cedar. She was grinning. All that shit talk and she couldn’t play. All in. He thought, and looked down at the floor to hide his smile.
“You suck,” Liam shouted. “All that shit and you suck. Fuck, I should have made it twenty dollars a shot.”
“I do, I really suck, but I love the idea of it,” Cedar confessed.
“Let’s continue on,” Liam said enthusiastically.
Cedar leaned on the pole. “Double or nothing, you can’t run the table.”
Liam looked wicked. “It’s your money, Sweetheart.”
“Less talk, more play,” she said, in what Killian assumed was her gangster voice.
Liam ran the table.
After she settled up with Liam, she returned to their table, but she didn’t take a stool. He was leaning against the wall; she leaned up against him. He wrapped an arm around her belly and pulled her closer. Felt the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. He wanted to let that hand drift down, lift her skirt, and explore her. Wanted to lick her taste off his fingers. If the corner were darker, he’d have been tempted. She rested her head back on his chest, the long line of her throat exposed. His cock twitched. All the things he wanted to do…
The shout came from the bar, right before the first punch was thrown. A calm settled for a split second, before all hell broke loose.
“Liam, get her out of here,” Killian shouted. He turned her to him. “Go with Liam.”
Wide eyes moved to the fighting.
“I’m the sheriff. I got to handle it.”
She nodded and didn’t resist when Liam grabbed her hand. He waited until she was out of the bar and then he walked right into the heart of the chaos.
Two hours later, he wanted to murder someone. This was not how he saw the evening ending. “None of these fuckers get out of the cage until the last fucking second we can hold them.” Then he muttered under his breath, “Fucking cock blocked by drunken idiots.”
Johnny walked over, jerked his head to the cages. “Don’t know half of them.”
“Yeah, noticed that. You run them?”
“I did, not a damn thing on any of them.”
That got Killian’s attention. “No priors?”
“No nothing.”
He glanced back at the cages. It could be nothing. The Barrel was on the outskirts of town, and was often visited by those passing through, but considering what he’d learned from Detective Donnelly. “Send me their mug shots.”
“What are you thinking?”
He hadn’t told Johnny or Ron about what he learned. He needed to on the off chance that kind of trouble showed up on their doorstep, but first, he wanted to see if his hunch was right. “Want to check something.”
He didn’t like it, but Johnny had worked with Killian long enough to know how he operated. He’d share when he was ready. “I’ll send them over now.”
“Thanks.”
Johnny walked back to his desk; Killian pulled up the number from Cedar and called it. Donnelly answered on the first ring.
“I’m texting some mug shots to you. Let me know if you recognize any.”
It was only minutes before Donnelly said, “Yeah, I recognize them. Brothers in the Iron Guardian MC. Brock’s MC.”
Well fuck.
It was late when he got to Cedar’s. He didn’t have to knock. She’d been waiting for him. He liked that a fucking lot.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
She’d changed into yoga pants and a tee; her hair was down, her face washed. She was fucking beautiful. He stepped into her, wrapped a hand around her neck, pulled her to him and gave in to the need to taste her.
