I watched as she swiped at her cheeks again, drying them with the back of her hand. “What about you?”
“Name’s Dillon,” I replied, embarrassed that she’d heard what I’d said.
“Well, they all laughed at me, Dillon,” she said, sounding miserable, those eyes of hers never leaving mine as she spoke. And the way she said my name like she knew me and had whispered it in her darkest confessions was fucking exquisite. “Mama always said I looked for love in all the wrong places. Guess she was right.”
I rolled my head on my shoulders. “Happens to us all,” I said as she finally took the hand I was holding out to her and I pulled her back up to standing.
She stumbled into my chest and I kept my grip on her tight to stop her from falling over again. Or at least that’s what I told myself. I could make out more of her features then. Her wide doe eyes were ringed in black makeup that had smeared down her cheeks from crying, but she was beautiful regardless. She was also young, probably around the same age as me. Too young to be in that kind of place. Women like her were used for nothing more than a hole to fill. And though they held out high hopes of one day being someone’s old lady, no brother was going to take on a woman that had had more dick than a hooker on a Friday night.
Her lips were full and shapely, no need for lipstick since they were already a deep pink. I was staring at her, making a damn fool out of myself as I held her close and peered down into her upturned face. Her teeth nibbled on her lower lip and I heard the audible swallow in her throat.
“Please don’t make me go back there, Dillon.”
There she went again, saying my name like she knew me.
Funny thing was, it almost felt like she did.
“I just want to go home, go to bed, and pretend this night never happened. I shouldn’t have come, it was a mistake.” She was slurring, and by the sound of the quiver in her voice she was about ready to start crying again. Her clothes weren’t slutty like most of the girls that came to party. Instead she wore a long flowing skirt that hung by her small feet. She wore a lacy cropped top which bared most of her flat stomach, and I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the feel of her smooth skin under my calloused fingers.
But it was all pointless, because she couldn’t stay out there, so she had to go back to the party. Maybe she could find a room to crash in.
I knew it wasn’t really an option though. That was probably more dangerous for her.
I huffed out my irritation, both at her and at the situation. “Look, I can’t open the gates unless Bull or Wolf tells me it’s okay to do so, so you ain’t leavin’. At least not tonight.”
I looked around me, seeing the old garage at the back of the clubhouse. It wasn’t used anymore, since a brand new one had been built at the front of the clubhouse to make it more accessible for customers. The garage was fifty-fifty on the business side. Half was a coverup, but the other half was a legitimate business. I got an idea and started to lead her over to it, intending on letting her get a few hours shuteye in there before hopefully slipping out in the morning with the other sweetbutts and no one none the wiser. If she had any sense she’d run as far away from there as she could get.
Our path flooded back into darkness the further away from the party we got, and I felt her gaze on the side of my face but ignored it.
“Where are we going?” she asked. She didn’t even sound afraid. Instead there was trust in her tone that made my stomach tighten. Damn woman was going to get herself into all sorts of shit trusting men like me in places like this.
“The old garage,” I replied bluntly.
I could just about make out the shape of it in front of me and I leaned her against the side of it when we got there, and opened the door and took a quick look inside. It wasn’t pretty. Boxes were piled high in the corners and old, rusted bikes and parts were stacked along one wall, and the smell of damp and rust clung to the air.
“What’s in there?” she whispered. She’d made her way to me and was leaning so close I could feel her sweet breath on my face.
“What do you think?” I grumbled, wishing this woman would stop asking so many damned questions. I needed to get away from her, because her scent was wrapping itself around me and making me feel all kinds of weird shit.
“I’m not having sex with you in there!” she replied suddenly.
I turned and glared, though it was for nothing because it was so dark and she was drunk so was probably seeing two of me anyway.
“Never said I wanted to fuck you,” I snapped—though my jeans had definitely gotten tighter as I’d half-carried her over there, her tits rubbing on the side of my chest and my fingertips digging into the soft flesh on her little waist. Yeah, she was beautiful. Even in the dark I could see that. And damn she smelled good; like honey and flowers or some shit, but I wasn’t fucking someone who couldn’t even stand on their own. I was into some fucked up shit, but not motherfucking necrophilia.
“Oh.”
Was it my imagination or did she sound disappointed? I pushed the thought away, because it wasn’t worth thinking about, no matter how hot she was.
“I thought it could be somewhere for you to sleep the vodka off,” I said.
She was silent and I turned and looked at her again.
“It was beer,” she replied. “It would have been better if it was vodka, trust me. Beer I can handle, but vodka…” She shook her head. “Vodka makes me do stupid things.”
“And you’re saying getting so drunk you can barely stand and then hiding wasn’t a stupid thing?” I snorted on a laugh. “Fuck, I think I’d like to see you after drinking vodka.”
“Asshole,” she huffed.
