“Belinda,” the woman said, groaning. “It’s not that hard of a name.”
Mak’s gaze swung toward Belinda, growing darker. “Betty, I just want you to know, Blondie here—” she pointed to her buddy but didn’t look at him “—has the syph.”
Blondie’s eyes widened immediately, his face turning fifty shades of red. “Why you got to lie like that? Damn, you’re so fuckin’ cranky sometimes.”
“The syph?” Belinda asked, gaping up at Blondie, twisting her overly processed hair around her fingertip. “Is that some award or something?”
Mak rolled her eyes, waving them off. “You two are a perfect couple, and this gentleman—” she pointed toward me, and I held my breath “—has come to my rescue when my friend couldn’t be bothered because he’s too busy chasing some easy pussy.”
Belinda placed her hand on Blondie’s chest when his shoulders bunched up like he was about to blow his lid. “Baby, come on. I know so many other things we could be doing right now than talkin’ to this mean-spirited prude snob.”
But Blondie didn’t move. He peeled the woman’s hand away from his chest, holding it in his palm. “What rescue? What happened, Mak?”
“Just go away, Blondie. I’m not in the mood for you,” Mak told him, turning her body back around on the stool. “Leave me alone for a few days, and you may come out of this with your balls still intact.”
“Whatever you say, G.I. Jane Junior,” Blondie said, backing away from the bar. “I plan on keeping my balls because someday I want kids, and I know you have the ability to take that away from me without even blinking. You’re a cold, cruel woman. Why don’t you take your friend here and maybe get yourself a piece of ass too? Maybe you wouldn’t be so goddamn uptight all the time.”
“I’m not uptight, and I get plenty of ass,” she spat back, suddenly sobering when she must’ve realized what she’d just said—and very loudly too.
“You wouldn’t know ass if it hit you in the face,” he told her, lifting his glass of whatever he was drinking to his lips.
Belinda snorted at his side, patting his arm. “You tell her, handsome. She’s probably a lesbian anyway. I mean, look at her,” Belinda said, throwing her arm toward Mak. “She’s a lesbian if I’ve ever seen one.”
I braced myself, knowing one of two things was going to happen. Either Mak was going to ignore the woman’s comments, or someone—particularly Belinda—was going to end up with a fist to the face and flat on her back.
As Mak started to turn around, Blondie backed up, taking Belinda with him, probably knowing what was about to go down just as much as I did. I wasn’t even this woman’s friend, but I knew—as would any other man listening in on the conversation.
“You know what?” Mak said, bringing her eyes level with mine for a moment before glancing over her shoulder. “Fuck you, Blondie and the Bimbo Belinda. I’m not a lesbian. Never been a lesbian. And never will be a lesbian. I’m all about the cock, baby. And I also know I have what it takes not only to catch a man’s eye, but to have him begging at my feet instead of me begging at his like a dog in heat.”
All I could do was blink and stare, replaying her saying, “I’m all about the cock, baby.”
Then her green eyes swung to me, her upper body following before her mouth came crashing down over mine, and proved to me just how right she was.
Chapter Three
Makenna
I staggered backward, breaking the connection as soon as Austin snaked his arm around my back.
Swaying and light-headed, I gripped the bar, trying to steady myself.
Holy shit.
I locked my knees, keeping myself upright as I dug my fingernails into the wood grain. “I’m…” I shook my head, not sure what to say.
Austin blinked, lips parted, staring at me like he was in a haze. “I… You…”
I glanced around, looking for Blondie and his bimbo to give me shit, but they were gone and nowhere in sight.
How long had we kissed? It seemed like only a minute or two, but then again, time had seemed to pass at a different rate as soon as my lips touched his.
I used to laugh at people who said they felt something special when they kissed someone for the first time. Childish, I’d tell myself. Nothing but a fairy tale they’d bought into and convinced themselves they’d found their Prince Charming.
But Holy Mother of God, was that what I just felt? No. Of course he wasn’t Prince Charming. The man in front of me wasn’t royalty, but the bastard could kiss.
I blinked back at him, words still stuck in my throat. It wasn’t like I’d never kissed a stranger before, but I was never the aggressor. “I’m sorry,” I told him, dropping my ass back onto the stool next to his. “I didn’t mean to drag you into whatever that was.” I tilted my head toward the crowd behind us where Blondie had just been.
“Darlin’—” Austin smirked, the haze from earlier seeming to wear off “—you can drag me to hell if you want as long as you kiss me like that again.”
