Jodi_ByTheLight (21 page)

“Why is that?”

“Fucker took a baseball bat to my Harley.”

“Are you shitting me?” Damaging someone’s Harley was like fucking someone’s mate.

“He came in here one night messing with one of the dancers. When she told him she was a stripper and not a hooker he slapped the shit out of her. I took his ass out back and beat the shit out of the bastard. The bouncers had to pull me off him. He threatened to sue the club.”

“What happened?” He tensed and leaned in. If David Jenkins was brave enough to slap a stripper in a room full of witnesses, then he wouldn’t hesitate to torture a female in private.

“The club thought about firing me, but all the dancers said they would all walk out if they did. They said I was the only one here looking out for the girls. So, they put me on probation.” Braxton shrugged his tattooed shoulders.

“And your bike?”

Braxton snorted. “Here’s the kicker. He came in one night while I was working the bar. Didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t stay fifteen minutes. When I got off work, I walked around back and that’s when I saw my bike had been beat to shit.”

“Why didn’t the police get him?”

“I called the cops and made a report, even told them he did it. But they said there wasn’t enough evidence to support my claims.” Braxton shook his head. “Total bullshit.”

“How do you keep from killing him when he comes in?” He almost hit a guy for touching his bike one night at a bar in Fayetteville.

“For one, I need this job. The Packs in Louisiana won’t hire me as a Guardian since Jeff threw his weight around. Right now, this is my only option.”

“Leave the state.”

“My mom’s here and I can’t leave her, not now.” Braxton averted his gaze.

“Bring her with you.”

Braxton shook his head and grimaced. “My mom won’t leave my father.”

Understanding dawned and Damon realized more about the situation than Braxton was voicing. “Is he abusive?”

“Yes.” Braxton scowled.

“I take it you try to set the bastard straight?”

“Multiple times. All that did was get my mom upset. I don’t say anything to her anymore about her leaving. I can’t leave her, not yet.”

Damon’s respect for the guy grew tenfold. Sticking around to protect his mother without killing his father took a lot of patience.

“I take it you’re not with any of the Louisiana Packs.”

“How’d you guess?” He gave a wry smile.

“You don’t seem like the ass kisser sort,” Braxton added dryly.

He barked out a laugh. “You’re right, I’m not. In fact, I got kicked out of the Louisiana Pack a few years back. Now, I’m in Arkansas.”

“Really? You like the Arkansas group?”

To be honest, he hadn’t really thought about whether he liked the members of the Pack, or not. He never really made an attempt to join in whenever they all went out. Maybe he should have made more of an effort.

“It’s as good as any, I guess.”

Braxton nodded. “Barrett Middleton is over the Arkansas territory, isn’t he?’

“Yeah. You know him?”

Braxton grinned. “I know his reputation. He doesn’t tolerate a whole lot of bullshit.”

He snorted. “No, he doesn’t. I wouldn’t want to cross him.”

“Maybe if my situation ever changes, I’ll look you guys up.”

“Do that.” Damon nodded and shoved his glass back.

“Since Jenkins didn’t show, I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Count on it. Will you be here?” He arched an eyebrow.

Braxton shook his head. “I’m not supposed to be working when Jenkins comes in. It’s part of my probation. That’s why they let me work tonight. They knew he wouldn’t show when amateur night was canceled.”

Damon nodded and stood. Pulling out one of his last twenty-dollar bills, Damon stuffed it in Braxton’s tip jar before leaving.

***

“This is like porn for your mouth.”

Ava smirked and stood a little taller as she looked at her customer sitting at the bar. The guy in a black wife beater, leather vest and jeans carefully held his chocolate martini glass in both hands. He was the size of a Mack truck and looked totally out of place drinking a girlie drink.

“Yes and it would be even better if Jeff carried Grey Goose.” She cut her gaze at the owner.

“You know how much that shit costs?” Jeff slapped his towel on the bar and propped a hand on his hip.

“You can’t make a decent chocolate martini without Grey Goose.” She turned and faced him, mimicking his stance. “It’s blasphemy.”

“Seagram’s is cheap and Seagram’s is what I got.”

She breathed out a sigh of frustration.

“It tastes like the bomb to me.” The biker sighed in delight.

“Thanks, I think.” She shook her head. “What’s your name?”

The biker set his martini glass down. “Rusty.”

She rested her forearms on the smooth surface of the counter. “Rusty, what if I said I could make a better martini if I had some Grey Goose. Would you be willing to pay the extra money?”

“Hell, yeah.” His bushy eyebrows shot up, and his goatee did a little excited shake when he grinned. “I don’t see how you could make a better drink than this right here.” He looked at the martini with reverence in his eyes.

She turned toward Jeff. “See, Rusty’s willing to pay extra for the good stuff.”

Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Ava. Chocolate martinis in a Were biker bar just doesn’t seem right.”

Ava arched her eyebrow. “You know, I’m surprised you even had the chocolate liqueur.”

“It was left over from a bachelorette party a few weeks back.”

“All I’m saying…” Her words trailed off to a whisper as a delicious sensation hit her deep in her stomach.

Damon.

She didn’t have to turn around to know he’d just walked through the door. Closing her eyes, she inhaled. His male scent of sandalwood and leather seeped through every cell in her body and made her tingle in the most inappropriate places.

“Hey.” The deep timbre of his voice had her turning around.

“Hey.” She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “You’re back early. Did everything go okay?” Damn, he looked good. Real good. Good enough to eat.

He eased himself onto the bar stool with that dangerous air that seemed to surround him. She bit her lip thinking about how he didn’t wear underwear under his tight jeans.

He gave Jeff a nod and the owner slid a whiskey over to him. Damn, she should’ve been the one to do that.

“Jenkins didn’t show. It seems amateur night got canceled.”

Rusty nodded his large head. “Yep, LSU is playing tonight. Can’t do amateur night when LSU is playing. It’s the law.”

“There isn’t no damn law about LSU and amateur night at the strip club,” Jeff snarled.

“Might as well be in these parts. People take their college football very seriously in the South.” Rusty nodded.

Damon watched Rusty as he took another sip and sighed.

He studied Rusty’s glass. “What the hell are you drinking?”

“Chocolate martini.” Rusty held out his glass. “Want a sip?”

His lip curled up in a sneer. “Hell, no.”

“Don’t dismiss a drink because of its name.” She narrowed her eyes.

“We could name it something else, like orgasm.” Rusty sighed.

“I think that name’s already taken.” She reached for her shaker and rinsed it off under the faucet.

“I take it there were no problems tonight?” Damon’s gaze landed on her and seemed to linger a little too long. All of a sudden it was sweltering in the bar. She grabbed the bar towel with her trembling hands, then quickly proceeded to dry the tumbler, hoping Damon hadn’t seen her reaction.

“Nope. Some males tried to get close but quickly realized she was scented. After that they kept a respectful distance.”

She frowned. Lifting her arm above her head, she turned her head and discreetly sniffed.

Nope. No body odor. She smelled like soap.

“What do you mean scented? Is that some kind of wolf thing?” She looked between the men.

Rusty barked out a laugh. “It means you have a male’s scent on you, warning the other males that you are taken.” He jerked a thumb in Damon’s direction. “And the scent they smelled belongs to your mate here.”

“We’re not mated.” Even though she answered in unison with Damon, it hurt a little that he was so quick to not link himself with her.

“Whatever.” Rusty pushed his large frame off the stool and stood. He reached in his wallet and pulled out a couple of twenties, sliding them across the counter to her. “Thanks, Ava. Will you be back tomorrow?”

“No, she won’t” Damon answered a little too quickly.

Rusty gave her a serious stare. “It’s a shame. You need to teach Jeff how to make them martinis before you leave tonight.”

“I am not making any damn chocolate martinis. I told you I don’t do pussy drinks.” Jeff’s voice boomed from the kitchen.

“Sounds like you handled yourself tonight.” Damon reached across the counter. When his fingertips wrapped around her wrist, she sucked in a breath. Absently, his thumb began to rub tiny circles at her pulse point at her wrist. She was sure her heart was going to jump out of her chest.

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, Jeff fed me before I started bartending. Did you?”

He shook his head.

She pulled out of his grip and walked back into the kitchen. She reappeared a few minutes later with a hot bowl of chili, and a thick slice of Italian bread and placed it in front of him.

Ignoring the food, he pulled her between his legs as he kissed her. The kiss began gentle but soon grew more urgent as his tongue licked the seam of her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as her body came alive. She parted her lips, letting his tongue possess her mouth. His tongue darted and licked every inch of her mouth until she could no longer fight back a moan.

“All right, all right. Cut that out.” Jeff’s voice had them reluctantly pulling away from each other.

She opened her eyes and tried to catch her breath. He always did that to her, stole her breath, stole her mind, stole her soul.

Silence filled the bar. Looking around, she saw all the werewolves in the place looking at her with glowing yellow eyes.

Damon stood, his muscles straining through the thin long sleeved T-shirt. He pushed her behind him, trying to block the other werewolves view. He growled as one Were took a step towards them.

“Damon?” She pressed against his back, as dread pitted in the base of her stomach.

He didn’t move. His growl grew louder and for once, she was a little afraid of him.

One werewolf wearing a sleeveless leather jacket took a step forward. She cringed as Damon pushed her further behind him until the bar counter pressed into her back.

Damon’s menacing growl seemed to go on and on.

“What’s going on?”

“They are challenging Damon for rights to you.”

Jeff moved to her side holding the sawed-off shotgun.

She pressed her cheek against Damon’s T-shirt, trying to keep from trembling. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered around his shoulder. The group of werewolves stood shoulder to shoulder, craning their heads to see her, their eyes glowing a strange yellow color.

She narrowed her eyes on the closest male. When she met his gaze, his nostrils flared and he reached down to stroke himself through his jeans.

Disgusted and scared, she snarled.

“You both need to get the hell out of here.” Jeff’s voice was strained, the shotgun aimed at the nearest werewolf.

“I’m going to kill you all for even looking at what is mine.”

Ava felt the raw anger in Damon’s voice. Unexplainable excitement quivered through her body, and she pressed herself more tightly into his strong back.

For the very first time, he was publicly claiming her.

And, now, they’d probably both end up dead.

He had perfect timing.

“Damon, you need to get her out of here, now.” Jeff moved to stand beside him, his shotgun sweeping the room, ready for one of the werewolves to take another step.

Without looking away from the motley crew, Damon reached for her hand and placed it directly across his cock.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was hard, his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Her fingers gripped his erection through the denim and she squeezed.

Something was so desperately wrong with her to be so turned on by Damon’s possessiveness.

The other werewolf’s eyes locked on her hand and they all let out a wail.

“It’s bloodlust.” Jeff answered her unasked question. “When wolves fight, it excites them sexually. He’s making it clear that he is willing to fight to the death to keep the other wolves away from you.”

She should have moved her hand away. After all, it was the decent thing to do. It was uncomfortable having all these males staring at her touching Damon so intimately. For some reason she couldn’t stop.