Dirty Desires (Devil Kings MC #3) - Nicole James Page 0,20

call and stick my tongue out at my phone.

The girl in front of me stares and asks, “Boyfriend?”

I roll my eyes. “He wishes.”

Gypsy—

I roar into the parking lot of the strip mall wondering why the fuck I’m getting involved with this girl. She’s not my problem. But it doesn’t matter; I’m in this now, and she’s sucking me in deeper every time I see her.

I roll through the aisles. Voodoo Lounge takes up the two large units on the end. The lot is packed. I coast up the handicapped ramp at the end and stop on the covered walkway.

There’s a bouncer sitting on a barstool at the door. He lifts his chin at me. “Buddy, you can’t park there. Fire regulations.”

I drop the kickstand and climb off, pulling my helmet free. “I’ll only be five minutes. Just picking someone up. She’s had too much to drink and shouldn’t drive.”

His eyes drop to my vest, and he nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s the cover?”

He waves his hand. “Long as you're back out in five minutes, I won’t charge you.”

“Thanks, man.” I walk inside.

There’s a U-shaped bar in the middle of the cavernous room with half a dozen pool tables to the left and a stage and tables on the right. The place is loud with its polished concrete floor and high industrial ceiling. Not the best acoustics, but I’m sure it wasn’t built with live music in mind. In fact, I’ve driven past this place enough times in the ten years I’ve lived here to know it’s been at least a dozen different businesses. Years ago it was a Mexican restaurant; last time I was here it was a biker bar. Now it’s morphed into this hipster place with live music.

I wander through the crowd, scanning for Tess. There’s a small space in front of the stage and some girls are up there dancing to the song the lead singer is currently belting out. He’s not half bad and his vocals have range. The guitar riffs echo unforgivingly off the metal rafters and exposed ductwork, bouncing around the place like a bucket of bolts in a trashcan.

The lead guitarist steps forward to do a solo. That’s when I catch sight of Tess.

My eyes skate down over her outfit. Low-cut jeans and a rock n’ roll tank top tied up high, exposing the curves of her waist and her belly button. Seeing that much skin brings back a flood of memories of the night we spent together.

She lifts the weight of her long hair off her sweat-sheen neck as she dances to the music, her body undulating.

My dick gets hard just watching her.

Standing here unnoticed in the crowd, I have a chance to observe her, and I can’t deny I like what I see. The rest of the place fades into a blur, and I only have eyes for her. I watch her every move. She smiles when a potent riff of the song is played and shakes her fist in the air, nodding along with the beat.

I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from pulling up at her exuberance. It’s good to see her enjoying herself, especially after the trip to the prison. She won’t admit it, but I know it drains the life out of her every time she has to go inside that place.

Here, now, with this music, she’s revitalized, and I’m glad.

She’s forgetting all her problems, and I know when I walk up I’ll be a reminder of them.

I stand and allow myself one more minute before I approach. Suddenly, out of the crowd, a guy pushes up against her back and grabs her bare waist. She twists, jerking out of his hold and shoves him. It’s clear she doesn’t want his attention. She moves away and heads off toward the hall that leads to the bathrooms. I see Romeo follow her, and I push through the crowd to the hall.

It’s a dark, wide hall that runs the length of the back of the club, one entrance from the poolroom and one from the stage side. Back when it was a biker bar, this hall was like a gauntlet with guys lined up trying to hit on the girls as they walked by. I’ve seen more than one couple pressed against the wall making out.

Tonight, the only two back here are Tess and this guy. By the time I come around the corner, he’s got her by the arm and backed to the wall.

I have to give it to