The King had his head tilted back, eyes closed as he hummed in answer. “He is a fucking meathead. First time I’ve heard him called that, though. I prefer to think of him as a bloody prat.”
The soft British twang of his accent made me smile as I leaned back against the cold bars. “Eh, that’s too nice. Do you British do everything nice?”
He snorted and opened his eyes wide enough to send me a smirk. “Not always. I don’t bash heads in very nicely.”
I chuckled and swept one knee over the other. “I’m Stormy.”
“Bishop.” He nodded before his eyes slipped closed again, and he crossed his arms, almost as though he was going to take a nap.
I took a moment to appreciate his strong jaw and smooth appearance, not something I’d expect from a biker. The Kings were the unsavory type, but that’s why I enjoyed going to their clubhouse with the other professionals. Personally, I’d rather just be called what I am—a whore. I didn’t remember Bishop from the nights I’d entertained myself at their clubhouse, but if I had seen him, I might have asked for a ride, and it sure as shit wouldn’t have been on his bike. He was gorgeous, with shaved dark hair and tanned skin, not what I’d expect from an Englishman. Something told me there was more to the story there.
“Hey. Hey, you,” a craggy voice snipped at me. I spun a sarcastic smile on the other cellmate, who’d been watching me intently.
“Yes?”
He pushed himself up from the bench on his side of the cell and waltzed in my direction, as though we weren’t currently stuck in lockup. Unlike Bishop, this man wasn’t handsome. He wasn’t ugly, either, but there was nothing that piqued my interest. Sandy-blond hair, cold blue eyes, and a scar below the right side of his mouth—he reminded me of an ex I’d had when I’d first moved to New Gothenburg.
“You a prostitute?”
“Allegedly,” I said, waving my hand dismissively at him. “My lawyer will get me out of here soon. A Mr. River Demchenko. You should call him. He’s good at his job.”
Bishop snorted but hadn’t bothered to open his eyes, so I thought he might have known him. River took on all sorts of criminal cases, Harlots and Kings included.
“Wanna suck my cock while we’re in here? I’m fucking lonely and dying for a warm mouth.” Blondie cocked a smirk at me, as though I’d find it attractive. I admit, I’d slept with worse, but I wasn’t in the mood. I worried for Ross and what this could mean for him. The media would eat him alive, and this wasn’t the first time he’d been questioned about his ability to lead.
The man continued to stare, so I widened my smile. “IfI was a professional, andifI was requiring money, you couldn’t afford me.”
The third guy in the cell, who hadn’t been paying attention to me, outright laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bench. He held his chest and bent forward until he was heaving in a way that told me he’d had too much to drink the night before. Probably in here for a public intoxication charge.
Blondie glared and reared forward with bared teeth, and I knew a threat when I saw one. Even Bishop moved, jumping to his feet as though he was ready to defend me, but I was no damsel in distress. I shifted quickly, my self-defense lessons kicking in as he charged. I moved and twisted until I’d grabbed his shirt and kneed him firmly in the boys, making him scream in agony and drop to his knees. My balls twinged in sympathy. I couldn’t stop the reaction, even when I caused the pain to someone else. It just fucking hurt to get nailed that way.
“Serves you right,” I said, patting him on the head like he was a child who’d done something wrong. “Just because I’m an alleged whore doesn’t mean I can’t put you in your place.”
Bishop sent me an impressed look, and I waved my fingers at him just as the doors to the outer room opened and heavy footsteps filled the silence. I turned, watching Officer Paxton walk to the door of the temporary cell. His gaze wasn’t on me, though.
“Hayden, what the hell?” he asked, his British lilt very similar to Bishop’s. It took me a moment of studying them both to realize that even though Paxton was blond and Bishop had short dark hair, they looked alike. Not twins-alike, but definitely siblings or cousins.
Bishop shrugged. “He pulled me over for a shit reason.”
“And?” Paxton crossed his massive arms over his chest, glaring. “He couldn’t have arrested you until you opened your big mouth.”
My attention was hooked, to say the least.
“What’s upsetting you more? The fact they charged me for something as stupid as vandalism, or because they figured out I’m your brother?” Bishop matched Paxton’s stance, jaw tight.
“Ooh. Brothers.” I bounced on my toes and waggled my eyebrows. “You’re both so good-looking, too. I can just imagine it—a cop and a biker brother, both fucking me. What do you say? I’ll give you a discount.” My grin was hurting my face, but I couldn’t stop the excitement from surging through me. I’d only done one pair of brothers before, and it’d been one of the best nights of my professional career.
The door to the room opened again, and this time River stepped in, appearing as tall and perfect as he usually did in his fancy tan suit and shiny designer shoes. His dark hair was slicked back, and the round gold-rimmed glasses on his face glinted under the lights as he stalked closer to us. His briefcase swung in his hand as he moved.
“Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves.” River pursed his lips and turned extra-disapproving eyes on me. “With the mayor in city hall, where anyone could catch you. For fuck’s sake, Stormy. Why?”
I shrugged. “He’s got areallynice cock, and he knows how to use it.”
River took a deep breath like he wanted to bash me over the head and the only thing stopping him was the bars between us. He glanced behind us briefly, but the man on his knees clearly wasn’t worth his time because his focus returned to me. “If you’ve been charged with soliciting sex, you do not offer a police officer a discounted rate with his brother.”
“Officer Paxton doesn’t mind, does he?” I reached through the bars to pat his chest, but it wasn’t Paxton’s grip on my wrist that stopped me, but River’s.
His gaze hardened until it was almost scary. “Stormy… don’t touch my Sir again, am I clear?”
