Prologue
Kent
“Hey, you!” I barely lift my head, clicking my fingers in the direction of the bartender. I slam my empty glass down on the counter. “Another whiskey.”
Footsteps approach, and I raise my head fully, blinking repeatedly in an effort to focus on the blur in front of me.
“I think you’ve had enough,” a sultry, female voice says, sending shivers of awareness cascading down my spine.
“Where’s Ford?” I ask, still struggling to see clearly. “He always looks after me.”
“Unlucky for you, Ford went home. I’m behind the bar now, and I’m saying you’re done.”
Fumbling in my pockets, I extract my wallet and slap a hundred-dollar bill down on the counter. I slide it toward her. “I’m saying I’m not. Get me a whiskey, and you can keep the change.”
She pushes the money back at me, folding her arms across her chest.
My vision solidifies, and I stare at her awesome rack. She’s wearing a plain black T-shirt, but it’s tight, highlighting the generous swells of her tits.
“Your money’s no good here, Kennedy, and stop staring at my tits.”
My lips curl into a seductive smile of their own volition. “Your tits are awesome,” I say, examining her gorgeous face for the first time.
She has beautiful big brown eyes, full lips, high cheekbones, and thick, long lashes that are the real deal. None of that fake spidery shit for this girl. My eyes roam appreciatively over the rest of her. Ink adorns the inside of both her lower arms, and there’s a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the top of her shirt. Leaning forward, I peruse the rest of her body, really liking what I see. She’s wearing a short leather miniskirt with scuffed biker boots, and she’s rocking an incredible body, one I want to get acquainted with.
My dick turns to steel behind my jeans, and I lick my lips as I meet her disgusted gaze full-on.
It doesn’t deter me.
It only spurs me on.
“You’re hot, and I’m horny. A perfect combination.” I stand, gripping the edge of the counter when I sway a little. Straightening up, I tower over her, flashing her the grin that makes countless women drop to their knees. “How about you bend over the counter and I rock your world, baby.”
She laughs. “Holy shit. Does that crap really work on women?”
“All the fucking time,” I truthfully admit.
Her arm darts out, and she grabs a fistful of my shirt, yanking me toward her.
Hell yeah.
That’s more like it.
“Word to the wise, Kennedy. That shit won’t work on me.Youwon’t work on me. Quit while you’re ahead.” She lets me go, stepping back. “And you’re cut off. Go home.”
This woman doesn’t realize it, but she’s just thrown down the gauntlet. I cannot remember the last time a woman rejected me, and my blood is ON. FIRE. “What’s your name, beautiful?” I ask, undeterred.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re drunk, Kennedy. Go home. Trust me, it’s in your best interest. This isn’t the type of place you should be hanging around anyway.”
“I like it here,” I reply. “Even more now that I’ve met you.”
She shakes her head while drying a few glasses. “Not happening, Kennedy. And if you won’t go home, I’ll have Bugger throw you out.”
“Bugger?” I ask, frowning.
She points over my head. “That big motherfucker at the door. One whistle, and he’ll haul your ass outside.”
“I’ll leave,” I say, leaning my elbows on the counter. “On one condition.”
