Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,100

against each other, grinding, groping, almost fucking on the dance floor.

Stone taps my shoulder to get my attention and points to the VIP seating behind the bar. Moving through the crowd, hands slip over my arms as women try to hang on, wanting to take home even the smallest piece of me.

But Stone does what he does best, moving them aside with one wide sweep of his arm. “Step aside, ladies,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders and pushing us through the sea of cleavage. “The night is long.”

“What's your poison, boys?” a bottle girl asks as we slide into a booth.

She's got short blonde hair, a cute little nose, and a decent rack. I'd take her to a hotel for a night, no questions asked, but that's all I'm willing to give.

Settling down isn't in the cards, not for a guy like me. I have too much life left to experience. Why waste it with one woman?

“It's a boys’ night out tonight,” I say, tapping my knuckles on the table. “We'll take your most expensive bottle, whatever it is.”

“Boys’ night, huh?” Smirking, her eyes linger on mine for a moment as she bites her bottom lip. “You're Phade Manson, right?”

“That's right,” I say, stroking my jaw. “You watch ultimate fighting?”

Shrugging her shoulder nonchalantly, she smiles. “On occasion. My brother is a big fan.”

“Bring me something, I'll sign it for him if you want.”

She gently bites her nail, her eyes darting around my face. “I might take you up on that.”

Winking, I give her a sly, sexy smile back. “How about some shots, my buddy and I could go for some shots.” Turning to Stone, I slap his arm. “Right, Stone, you want a shot, don't ya?”

He shoots me a look, so I take out my wallet and thumb through some cash.

“Fuck it, if you're paying, I'm in. Let's go, round of shots for us, please.”

“What kind of shots?” she asks, her tone flirty and playful.

“Surprise us,” I say, smiling wide to make sure the dimples do their job.

“You got it.” The waitress turns to leave, glancing back at me and giving me sultry eyes over her shoulder.

I watch her ass swing side to side as she walks away until she's out of view, then I let my eyes drift out into the crowd. People are dancing, the music is bumping, and just the whole vibe of the place is giving me that warm feeling in my gut.

Never in my life did I ever think I'd be sitting here in the VIP section of Dutch. If I went back in time and told myself where I'd end up, I wouldn't even believe it. I'd probably even try to fight myself about it.

Because how does a poor kid from the shit end of the city, Arctic Grove, end up here?

Most people don't, but I'm not most people.

If there's one thing I have that most people lack, it's determination. I was going to be famous one day, that much I knew. And here I am, with money to spare and women ready to lick my balls for just a taste.

My eyes surf the sea of beautiful bodies, just enjoying the live show before me.

“Here you are,” the waitress says, returning in record time.

“Thank you.” Picking up both shot glasses, I hand one to Stone, then look back at her. “Where's yours?”

Holding out her arms, she lowers her head. “No drinking allowed when I'm working.”

“I'll take a rain check then.” Saluting the air, I knock back the shot fast. “Woo!” I call out, shaking my head. “That shit burns, what the hell was it?”

Stone is laughing as he runs the back of his hand across his mouth. “It's tequila, dip shit. Oh wait, I forgot you only drink dog piss.”

Pulling back my arm, I slug him in the bicep. “Dick.”

“Ah, fuck, Phade, that shit isn't funny.”

“Neither are your jokes, so let's call it even.”

Drink after drink after drink, Stone and I pound them back like they're water. After the first few, I don't even feel the burn anymore. My chest feels warm and my skin is getting hot.

Tugging at the collar of my shirt, I glance around the room, and a flicker of light catches my attention from across the bar.

Focusing my eyes, I'm instantly drawn to a woman in a flashy dress. She's sitting alone, sipping a martini. Our eyes cross for a single beat, holding just long enough to know we see each other. Then hers are gone, darting