I was about to point out that the bar was full when he flexed on some skinny dude and the guy slithered away, giving up his seat. Breaker planted his ass on the barstool, tugging me down onto his lap. I wasn’t used to being manhandled. My body tensed up and I had to force myself to relax, leaning against Breaker as if I couldn’t stay away.
His hand landed on my stomach as he struck up a conversation with the man sitting beside us. Sipping my drink, I listened in as they chatted about an upcoming wedding and plans for what sounded like one hell of a bachelor party. Breaker’s hand migrated to my breast as he rattled on about the club whores who’d be there. Two bikers on my left bragged to a third guy about some girl they’d double-teamed. The bartender poured drinks as he gossiped with another biker about some dumbass who’d gotten stoned out of his mind and picked a fight with a Serpent named Crash.
This was the lifestyle I’d committed my life to fighting: Drugs, abuse, violence. I wondered again at why my sergeant wanted to keep me away from it. Then again, since I’d literally marched into the snake’s den and sat on one of the bastards’ laps, maybe I was too emotionally involved in these missing girl cases after all.
But someone had to find the girls, and Wilkens, Franks, and Scott weren’t doing shit.
Minutes ticked by. Bikers came and went, approaching Breaker like he was some sort of royalty they sought favor with. One guy, who’d apparently been out of town, told Breaker he was sorry to hear about Joe. Joseph Pritchard was the youngest Pritchard child, and had been shot and killed about a month ago. The details were sketchy, but the investigation was closed and sealed. My ears perked up at the mention, hoping to finally get some clues about what had really happened.
“Thanks, brother. It’s good to have you back in town.”
“Any leads on the motherfucker responsible?” the newcomer asked.
“No. Texas wants us all to believe it was some random hit between Pier 62 and Pier 63, like some damn deal gone wrong. But that motherfucker’d be better off selling me ocean front property in Arizona than getting me to buy that bullshit. Joe and Trucker were working with that stupid son-of-a-bitch, Brass, and there hasn’t been hide nor hair of him since their death. I’m betting he double crossed them, but a dumbshit like that would need help. No way he took down Joe and Trucker by himself. We’ll find out who’s behind the hit, and the prez better hope he’s not hiding anything. Dad will lose his shit and finally make a move.”
It was shocking to hear any biker threaten their president so openly, but I’d heard rumors that a war was brewing between Breaker’s dad, Buzz, and his brother, Texas.
“You need me, all you have to do is holler, brother.”
Conversations and songs changed as I wondered what Breaker was waiting for. I’d planned to waltz into the bar, seduce a biker, and have him take me back to the clubhouse, but Breaker seemed to be content to just sit there with me on his lap. Guns N’ Roses “Sweet Child of Mine” blared from the speakers as I tried to remember how many songs had played since I arrived. Four? Five? Six? I’d been sipping slowly, but my drink was mostly gone. The bartender set another in front of me, but I was too distracted to pay it any mind. There was a little nick in the side of the bar, and it captured my full attention. The divot felt strange beneath my fingertip. So strange, that I had to rub each of my digits against the wood, finishing with my thumb, before pressing my palm and the back of my hand against it.
I’d never felt something so cool in my life.
The different texture, the dip, it was all fascinating. Captivating. I wanted to rub my entire body against it, to feel it beneath every inch of my skin.
That’s when I realized my drink had been spiked after all.
After everything I’d seen my mother go through, I promised myself I’d never fuck around with drugs, yet here I was. A wave of panic washed over me before my training kicked in, reminding me to stay calm and focus on the symptoms. I didn’t feel dizzy, disoriented, or sleepy. I knew where I was and remembered what I was doing there, which meant I hadn’t been roofied.
Think, Sasha. You know what this is.
The nick in the side of the bar kept tugging at my attention. I rubbed my arm over it, marveling at the way it felt. The wayIfelt against it. Strange. More. Stimulated.
Breaker leaned forward, his hot breath landing on the side of my neck, sending goosebumps down my oversensitive shoulder and arm. “How you doin? You ready for me yet?” he asked as his hand slipped beneath my skirt to slide across my thong. “Fuck yeah, you are. Your pussy feels like a hot bath. I can’t wait to take a dip.”
He was vile. Disgusting. He had no right to talk to me like that. Still his words incited more goosebumps and sent another wave of heat to my core. His fingers danced lightly over my sensitive area, teasing.
Part of me was appalled. The bar hid what he was doing under my skirt, but we were still in public. I shouldn’t have been aroused, but I couldn’t help myself. All too aware of how silky my bra felt against my nipples and how the lace of my thong felt beneath Breaker’s wandering fingertips, I had to force myself not to writhe for more friction.
Every touch, every breath of air, was overwhelming. Sensual. Euphoric.
Whatever control I’d had when I walked into The Serpent’s Nest was long gone. They’d dosed me with either liquid ecstasy or molly, because my entire body thrummed with sexual energy. Eventually, I gave in and arched my pelvis against Breaker’s hand to increase the pressure. People were watching me grind against him, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was the sensation.
“You’re gonna want this,” Brewer said, plopping a tall glass of water in front of me.
I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was, but all of a sudden water was everything. Muttering a quick thank you, I reached for the glass and gulped it down, not coming up for air until it was empty.
“Good girl,” Breaker said in my ear. “You gonna be that greedy with my cock?”
He continued to stroke me through my thong. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. I grabbed his hand, pushing it harder against me. His thick, blunt fingers felt so good I could barely stand it.
“What did you give me?” I asked, arching against him again. I knew I shouldn’t, but it was like I couldn’t get close enough. He was practically finger-banging me right there in the bar, and I was letting it happen. Hell, I was encouraging it. My body was on fire and only pressure could put it out.
“Just a little X to get the party started, babe. You were all uptight and needed to chill the fuck out and relax.” Pushing my thong aside, he dipped a finger into my pussy.
I bit back a moan.
“You’re so fucking wet. I bet I could bend you over this bar right now and fuck you here in front of everyone. Would you like that?”
