I was about to stand up and go find her when I saw her threading back through the bar. She strutted back across the floor, her hands free of the beers she had previously been carrying and her gaze on the Abercrombie and Finch guy. I scowled, wondering why she was paying him any attention.
She was short, barely scraping five feet four inches, even in heels, with small hips, small tits, and a head full of loose blond curls. Her lips were painted bright red, but the rest of her face was almost bare of the shit most women piled on their skin. Fucking beautiful.
She strutted straight up to the guy that had slapped her ass, reaching up to tap him on the shoulder. Her black leather jacket rode up so I got a view of her smooth, pale stomach, and damn I wanted to reach out and spread my hand across her skin and feel her warmth under my fingertips.
My nostrils flared at the thought and I lifted my beer, taking a long swallow and almost spitting it back out as he turned around and she reached back, punching him square in the face.
“Fuck me!” I barked out giving a laugh loud enough that every brother at the table turned to see what I was staring at.
Abercrombie called out, stumbling backwards and grabbing his face as she yelled something at him before turning to walk away.
Jesus Christ she was insane, and I fucking loved it. By the way she unapologetically punched that guy in the face, I had no reason to doubt that she was more than just trouble. No, she was wild and untamed, and my dick was ready to bust out my jeans at how turned on she’d just made me.
“Fucking crazy bitches,” Crank muttered, and sank the rest of his Coke in one mouthful.
Abercrombie let go of his nose and reached for her and I stood up, ready to dive in and kick his ass for two reasons. One, he was a fucking prick for wearing that shirt in a bar like this. And two, you never hit a woman. Especially a woman that I wanted to fuck.
Turns out she didn’t need my help though.
He reached for her shoulder, his fingers gripping it tightly as he yelled something at her, and in a move that was better suited to a Jackie Chan movie than a biker bar in Montana, she gripped his arm and threw him over her shoulder before slamming him onto the ground.
“Fuck yeah!” I was standing up, staring in awe and admiration at this beautiful little thing.
“Touch me again and I’ll break your arm,” she snarled like she was going to rip his throat out. And I had no doubt she could and would fucking do it. “Now, say you’re sorry.”
I watched his friends closely because I was more than ready to wade in if any of them decided to try to help out their buddy, but none of them seemed stupid enough to. Good thing.
She leaned down over him, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable position. “I said, say sorry!”
“Sorry? Are you fucking psychotic?” he screamed at her from the ground. He bucked to get her off him as she leaned down and grinned wickedly. She was small, but she clearly had him by some pressure point, because one small move of her arm and he stopped bucking and started yelling something incoherent.
Damn, she had big lady balls.
Big beautiful lady balls.
Women like that don’t come along every day.
Yeah, she’d be worth sticking around an extra couple of weeks for.
A crowd had formed around the two of them, most people looking on and laughing as the dickwad got overpowered by a woman half his size.
“Last chance.” She winked. “Apologize for being a pig…” She squeezed the trigger point again. “…or I break something.”
“All right, all right!” he screamed in agony. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what?” she teased, her tongue darting out across her bottom lip like the whole thing was turning her on. Fuck. It was definitely turning me on.
“For being a fucking red-blooded man!” he snarled back. “You strut around here in your tight leather pants, tits spilling out for every man to see, and expect no one to want to tap that! Fuck you. Sluts like you are just asking for it.”
Her face fell, the soft edges turning hard as her eyes narrowed in on him. She shook her head. “No, the only thing I’m asking for is to take my girl to a bar for a drink without getting felt up every time I pass a man.” She twisted his arm once more and let go of him, standing back up she glared down. “Touch me again and I’ll do more than sprain your wrist.”
He climbed back to his feet and rolled his shoulders. “You bitches are just cockteases,” he said, turning away from her. His friends were laughing but he was far from it. In fact from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t going to let this drop so easy.
The music got louder, the crowd dispersed, and she shook her head and walked away from him. I was still standing up, and my gaze followed her through the bar to a table by the dance floor where another woman and the guy from earlier sat.
“What was that all about?” Crank asked, following my gaze.
Miss Blond and Gorgeous ran her hand up the other woman’s thigh and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Fuck.
