He buried his face against the side of her neck. Everything about her smelled so good, from the floral shampoo she used to her peach-scented perfume. He tangled his fingers into her hair and tugged, baring her neck.
Sergio left another hickey on her neck. Her body felt so warm and soft. Perfect against his. He no longer heard the music or cared about the crowd of people surrounding them. Only Jessie and he mattered.
“Hey, buddy.” Someone tapped his shoulder.
Sergio raised his head and glared at the fucker stupid enough to interrupt them. Two middle-aged men with beer bellies and wearing matching cowboy hats and boots appeared next to them. The one with the blond hair held a half-empty beer bottle in one chubby fist. They swayed on their feet and reeked of alcohol.
“Me and Tom here were wondering if you’d let us have a turn with your girl,” the drunk said.
If they weren’t in a public place, Sergio would’ve cut off both the bastards’ eyeballs for looking at Jessie like she was an object he could possess. She was his woman. Only his. Jessie drew closer to him and clutched at the edges of his leather jacket. Her fear only served to fuel his rage.
“Fuck off. I’m not warning you two assholes again,” he said.
Sergio should be getting a medal for his patience. He didn’t suffer fools lightly. Back in the city, he wouldn’t hesitate to teach these fools a lesson, but he remembered Jessie and he were trying to keep a low profile. Causing a ruckus in the town’s only bar would serve to draw the local authorities’ attention to them.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Jessie told him.
He looked into her eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
She nodded.
“Hey, we’re not done with you two,” slurred Tom. Tom made the grievous mistake of putting his hand on Jessie’s ass. That was fucking it. Sergio exploded.