“Sounds perfect.”
Marisol makes the drink in record time and places it in front of Martina.
I raise my shot glass. “Here’s to knowing each other’s names.”
We clink glasses, and I down my shot. She sips at her drink, then cocks her head. “I take it you getting a woman’s name isn’t usually a priority?”
If I didn’t answer this right, I would sound like a low-down dog, so I do what I do best.
“Your name is definitely worth knowing.” Avoid and distract.
“You’re good, I’ll give you that.” She throws me a little wink, and swear to fuck, my dick bounces against the zipper of my jeans, then pulses to the point of pain.
“Ahhh, you have no idea.”
She motions to my one-percent patch. “You were about to tell me what this one means.”
“It means we are the one percent of all bikers who tell the law and society to fuck off.”
“I see.”
Even though I could tell she didn’t. Nobody really knew this life unless they lived it, and even then, some of the shit that went down could get sketchy. In the end, it was the first time even a fuck-up like me ever felt accepted, and that was everything.
“Must be very liberating.”
My lips twist into a grin. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Like those guys before. All you had to do was look at them, and they moved out of their seats. No argument, no muss, no fuss.”
“Pretty much.”
“Must be nice to have that kind of power.” Her voice fades, and I can’t help wondering what or who she’s thinking about that took away her power. She is such a tiny thing, I hate the thought of some guy giving her shit or roughing her up. A second later, my fists clench at the thought.
“With power comes responsibility, and you gotta know howto use it when you need it, but not abuse it when you don’t.” Where the fuck did that come from? Me going deep with a woman usually began with buying a drink and ended between the sheets with very little talking in between.
“But I guess you have to admit getting these seats was a little abuse of power, right?”
“Absolutely not. I had a beautiful woman who needed a seat, and those fuckers should’ve gotten up for you anyway.”
“Ahhhh, so you’re a gentleman too.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things, babe, but never a gentleman.”
The music amps up as more women take the stage, but I don’t even bother to look. I’m zeroed in on Martina, fuckin’ sexy name, with her big brown innocent eyes. Eyes shining with a dangerous mix of innocence and hellfire. Oh yeah, my birthday is shaping up very nicely.
I slide my hand over the back of her barstool and?—
“So, brother, you enjoying your birthday?” Blood drapes his thick arm around my shoulder, then grips the edge of the bar to steady himself.
“I sure the fuck am.” I give him the side-eye, but of course, the fucker doesn’t get the hint.
“I can see that.” Blood focuses on Martina. “You were hot on stage, sweetheart. Total fire.”
He throws her a lopsided grin, and I crane my neck over the crowd. “Where’s Maxie? She should be taking care of your drunk ass.”
“She’s bullshitting with the women.” Blood waves his arm around the room. “Who the fuck knows what they talk about, and who are you calling drunk?”
“You, shithead. Just make sure you’re in the gym nice and early tomorrow.”
