But this guy?
Oh, he had trouble written all over him.
Tall, absolutely freaking covered in ink, with kind of wavy brown hair that brushed his shoulders, brown eyes, and a beard that looked like the perfect place to take a seat?
Even the damn blood on his knuckles and casually dripping from his nose.
Yeah.
Hot.
Stupid hot.
And the last thing I needed.
“What are you guys doing here?” Toll asked, reaching for glasses. “Don’t you usually hang at the Mallick’s place?”
“Yeah,” one of them said, smirking. “Until we get kicked out because someone started swinging,” he said, nodding his head toward the hot guy who just so happened at that very moment to glance over in my direction.
And all that ferocity that had been on his face was gone in a blink, replaced with a light-hearted interest.
“You look nice,” he said after his gaze moved over me.
“I’m not.”
“Guys, this is Theo. She’s new here. Theo, this is… Seth, Finn, Brooks, Dezi… and I don’t know the rest of you,” Toll said, reaching for the whiskey.
“Oh, this is Nave and Voss,” the guy he’d waved to when he said Seth answered. “Newer in town. And this is Callow,” he added, waving to another guy. “He’s prospecting, so we wanted to show him a good time. Until the violence started,” he added, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, I had a great fucking time,” Dezi, the guy I was absolutely not going to fuck, declared.
“The guy who was taken away in an ambulance might not agree.”
“Hey, he could have kept his mouth shut,” Dezi said, shrugging. “So, Theo,” he started, shooting me a smirk that damn near made my panties combust.
“Hey, mama,” A’s voice called, making me jolt and start to move toward the end of the bar where he was leaning on his forearms. “You good?” he asked, shooting me a wicked smile. “Need a block of ice to sit on?” he added.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, shaking my head, shaking it off.
“Yeah, you think the whole bar didn’t see you just fantasize about getting railed by that biker?” he asked, letting out a chuckle that any other red-blooded woman would be brought to her knees by, but this woman was too focused on trying not to look back over at Dezi.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him, mixing his drink.
“Yeah, okay, mama. Little word of advice from me to you?” he said, getting a nod from me. “Sometimes, he comes off like a big puppy. Make no mistake, he’s a rabid fucking dog,” he told me, taking his drink in one hand, and knocking his knuckles on the bar with the other before turning and walking away.
What he didn’t know, though, was “rabid dog” was definitely more my type than “puppy.”
“So, what’s this Slapshot I see on the menu?” Dezi asked as he slid his drink over the bar at me.
Damnit.
I shouldn’t have ever told Danny about that. It had been my signature thing at some of my old bars, the ones with looser morals. Danny thought it might bring in some more money since we up-charged the shot by three-fold since it came with a little bit extra something-something.
“What does it say under it?” I asked, raising a brow at him as I wiped the bar.
His gaze slid back to the board, then to me, a devilish little smile on his face saying that he was going to buy one.
Damnit.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough violence for one night?” I asked, pointedly glancing down at his nose and the bruise I could see forming on his jaw.
“Baby, there’s never enough violence,” he told me. “Slapshot… please,” he added.
To that, Toll let out a laugh.
And from back at his table, A was toasting me with his glass and shaking his head.
“Fine,” I grumbled, reaching for the shot glass and filling it up.
“Where do you want me?” he asked, tone just a little bit too suggestive, and my body was far too receptive to it.
“Right there is fine,” I said, moving out from behind the bar as a couple people moved closer, wanting to see the show for the first time.
I slid between him and the bar, reaching behind me to grab the bar to pull myself up, but before I could even do it, his hands were sinking into my hips and lifting me up.
Effortlessly, I might add.
As if my poor libido needed any more fucking ammunition.
My ass met the bar, and I had to remind myself to exhale when his hands finally left my hips.
“Okay,” I said, spreading my legs so he could stand just slightly between them. Within reach. “Take your shot,” I told him, handing it to him.
His eyes were molten as he looked at me for a second before throwing it back.
As soon as his chin was down again, I cocked back, and swung as hard as I could, my hand landing with a satisfying crack to his cheek.