Colt (Devil's Nightmare MC #10) - Lena Bourne Page 0,2
as I knew it would be—it feels like a deal’s been made. A new beginning sparking into a possibility like a string of firecrackers going off.
But in the next second his attention is gone from me again. Ace is being led into the back, Piston at his back. But I don’t know if that’s what’s he’s looking at.
And now I think I just imagined the connection between us because I’ve lost my mind. If I ever do get out of here my next stop will be an asylum somewhere. Maybe the same one where they keep my mom. She wasn’t that much older than me when she lost it completely.
Colt
This bar the Sinners run is as low as it gets. Rickety tables, the chairs in even worse condition. I bet I’m getting splinters in my ass from this bar stool I’m sitting on. The smell is overpowering too, and not in a good way—old smoke, spilled booze, sweat, blood, and so many other things I’d rather not even try to find a name for. Do they ever even open a window? And every time the door opens, dust from the damn gravel road leading here enters in a cloud. It’s exactly the type of place my old man would feel right at home in. As for me, if I somehow wandered in here just for a drink, I’d turn right around and wander somewhere else instead. Even the club girls all look like they’ve seen better days.
Except the one behind the counter. I’ve been trying to get her attention for the past ten minutes, but she’s just staring over the mass of bikers gathered in here at the front door, not thinking anything kind, judging by the wicked fire in her eyes. Elbows on the counter, boobs squeezed together and threatening to pop out, her hips swaying gently to the music, the short jean skirt she’s wearing barely concealing her round ass. Any guy’d be hard-pressed to choose which is hotter, her ass or her boobs, and I’m no exception. Although it’s her hair that got my attention first and held it. Long and dark and spilling in lush, thick waves down her back and around her boobs. I bet her eyes are blue—dark blue—a deadly combination. A regular Snow white. And I bet she can handle more than seven dwarves. Just the way I like them. Bad and wild and a little wicked. I never knew what to do with a nice girl.
And what the fuck am I thinking now?
I’m supposed to be on a job. I’m supposed to be proving myself, so I’ll be sent on more of them. I’m not supposed to be wondering about what color Snow White’s panties are. Red, I bet, like her bra and the apple.
Fuck. Focus.
Blaze is by the back door, acting drunk, but glancing from the door to me and back to the bottle of beer in his hands way too often. Although to be fair, I’m probably the only one who’s noticing that, since I’ve known Blaze for so long I barely have to look at him to know what he’s thinking. Besides, I also know why we’re really here. We’re supposed to warn Ace to get out because the shit’s about to hit the fan for the Sinners sooner rather than later.
“Can I get a drink over here or what?” I say to finally get her attention and break this weird spell looking at her put me under.
Blue swirled with white like some fantasyland lake somewhere. That’s the color of her eyes, I realize as she looks at me. I realize little else as she walks towards me, boobs bouncing, hips swaying, lips red and plump, and begging to be kissed. Or wrapped around my cock.
“Or am I interrupting?” the sole purpose of asking her that is to make the fierce fire in her eyes glow brighter.
She flirts back, she’s interested too, but I bet she’s like that with all the guys here. It shouldn’t, but that bothers me. I don’t like being just another guy to a woman. Especially not in a decrepit place like this, the kind of place that my father would love.
I ask for a beer. She delivers it with the speed of light, says something about aiming to please, which I very much doubt about her.
There’s fear behind the fire and blueness of her eyes. A caged animal type of fear. Not a pretty thing to see. And it just grows and grows the