“You’re the one who came over here and started screeching at me. I’m literally just sitting here minding my own business. You stay out of my way.”
Her lips pursed as her breathing quickened slightly, those perfect tits swelling with every inhale. It took more than a little effort to keep my eyes off them, but I did. I gave myself a mental high five and smiled. I knew I looked every bit the self-satisfied asshole she thought I was, but her obvious fury only made my smile wider.
This was kind of fun.
“What are you doing here anyway?” She chugged her drink and didn’t even wince, making me wonder if she was pulling the same trick with the soda and lemon I was.
“Same thing you’re doing here.” Lies. But she didn’t need to know that. To drive my point home, I looked over her shoulder, spotted a tall brunette with waves down to her jean-clad ass, and eyed her up and down the same way every other deadbeat had been ogling Donna all night.
She followed my gaze and scoffed. “You’re such a pig. Just stay out of my way.”
Without giving me a chance to reply, she moved back to the other end of the bar, but I watched her check out the brunette as she passed. She had that appraising look all women had when sizing up their competition—pursed lips, one raised eyebrow, the quick up-and-down glance.
I covered my mouth to hide the grin I couldn’t hold back.
This was a dangerous game Donna Mead and I were playing, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long time.
Unfortunately, the brunette must’ve noticed me checking her out, because she suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking my view of Donna.
“Hi.” She smiled and looked at me through long lashes. Her glossy lips wrapped around a straw, and she took a long pull of her drink.
She was pretty, and I probably would’ve gone for it had I not still been hard for the infuriating, entitled bitch who had just walked away.
I gave her a disinterested “hey.”
Her boobs pressed against my arm as she leaned in to say something, but between the loud music and my every sense acutely keeping track of Donna, I didn’t hear a word. She just wasn’t going away though, and really, she didn’t deserve to be led on.
I looked at her properly. “Listen, can I be honest?”
She nodded.
“I’m interested in someone else. When I checked you out, I was just trying to make her jealous.”
She pouted but gave me a smile. “The cute blonde?”
“Yeah.” My eyes sought her out in the crowd again. She was dancing with some thirty-year-old-looking motherfucker with a beard and hand tats, but she kept glancing in my direction. Was she trying to make me jealous?
“She’s a lucky girl.”
I scoffed. “I don’t know about that.”
“Is she still looking?”
I glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah.”
The brunette gave me a cheeky smile and leaned in, trailing a hand up my arm and across my shoulders. Then she tilted her head and tucked it into my neck. I wrapped an arm around her waist and angled my body into her. It would’ve looked as though she was kissing my neck and I was into it. I mean . . . I wasn’t not into it . . . but only because I knew it was probably making Donna furious.
“You smell amazing too,” the brunette said. “Such a shame.”
“Thanks for being cool about it.” I gave her hip a squeeze.
She shrugged and smiled one last time before turning and making her way to the exit.
Do not look at Donna. Do not look at Donna. Do not look at Donna.
I downed the rest of my drink and mentally patted myself on the back for not looking at Donna as I got off the barstool and headed for the exit too. It was time to go home. If Donna happened to think I was leaving with the brunette, that was her problem.
But as I skirted the edge of the dance floor, I couldn’t help taking a glance.
Right away, my eyes caught the flick of her light hair as she turned, the hand-tat guy leading her toward the bar. Another guy with a low ponytail and a bit of a beer gut leaned into her other side, and she laughed at whatever he said.
She glanced behind her, and I slunk into the shadows, leaning back against the wall. Something didn’t sit right, and I wasn’t willing to admit to myself that I hated seeing her with two lowlifes. So I stayed and watched like the creep she’d accused me of being.
They went to the bar and ordered drinks. Three glasses were delivered—two with amber liquid and one with clear. At least she was still smart enough to stay sober.
Hand tats told some kind of joke, getting her full attention as they all laughed. While she was facing him, ponytail reached into his pocket and dumped something into her drink.
I pushed off the wall, my hands tightening into fists. What the fuck? Did no one else see that?
Of course fucking not. Everyone here was too drunk or high, too wrapped up in their own shit. Before I could bulldoze my way through the crowd and stop her, they cheersed, and she gulped down most of her drink in one go. I had no idea what they’d given her, but I wasn’t sure I could take them both. I just knew I couldn’t let her out of my sight, couldn’t let them take her from here.
This was none of my business—I’d been heading out the door anyway—and Donna was a bitch, but she didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this.
So I hung around for a little while and watched.
She stumbled over her own feet while standing still, and hand tats steadied her before sharing a grin with ponytail. My vision went red, thoughts of tearing the fuckers to pieces assaulting my mind. But I had to keep my shit together.
Keeping Donna in my periphery, I scanned the crowd and spotted Shady at the end of the bar area. I beelined for him, bumping into drunks and bikers as I went. Donna was leaning heavily on the bar now with her head in her hands, while the two men hovered like the predators they were.
“Shady.” I interrupted his conversation with a smack on the shoulder, barely sparing him a glance.
“Hendy, bro, I’m in the middle of some business here,” he ground out.
I grabbed him by the collar of his tracksuit and leaned in close. “Some pieces of shit just drugged Donna. I can’t take them alone. Come on, man.”
I wasn’t above begging, but I hoped the asshole’s humanity would kick in before I had to.
Shady got to his feet and excused himself from the conversation he’d been having, ordering another round of expensive whiskey and stating he’d be right back after he took out the trash. Then he gestured to two of his buddies.
I kept my focus on Donna. Her feet started falling out from under her, and the two scum propped her up on either side and started helping her stumble toward the exit.
I rushed toward them, no longer caring if I had to take the two of them alone, no longer caring if I had to take twenty.
We cut them off barely ten feet from the door.
“Let her go,” I growled, already reaching for her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, then focused, then rolled again.
“Back off, asshole.” Ponytail scowled. He was even uglier up close.
“Hen . . . hel . . . h . . . ,” Donna mumbled. Was she trying to say my name or “help”? It didn’t matter. She was getting both.
Shady and his guys finally caught up. They didn’t ask questions. They simply shoved the two shit stains out of the way as I stepped in and wrapped my arms around Donna. As I held her delicate frame against my chest, her legs gave out, her arms went completely limp, and her head rolled back.