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“Not so fast.” She slurs, trying to to brush his grabby hands away, but he’s not taking the hint. I decided to step in.

“I think the lady said that would be enough.” I lean across the worn wood table and splay my hands-on top. He turns his hazy eyes toward me and gives me a scowl as his friend stands up, blocking the booth. Scarlett watches with wide eyes.

“Is that what you heard, Lester?” He laughs over his shoulder.

“Nah, Stanley. I think blondie here said she wants to buy us another round.” He tries to pull her against him and she struggles to break free, falling onto the seat, where she puts her head down and whimpers.

“I really don’t think you want to do this.” I roll my sleeves and stand to my full height. He looks up, sizing up all six-foot-three of me before taking a step back.

“Let’s go. It’s not worth it,” the smarter one says, and his mate climbs out of the booth, knocking her bag on the floor as he goes.

“You can have her. She looks like damage goods anyway,” one of them says to the other, then they both laugh as they brush past me. Mouthy little wanker doesn’t know when to stop.

My blood boils at his harsh assessment of this woman I don’t even know. But I respect women in general too much to let a comment like that go unpunished. Reaching out, I grab him by his throat and push him against the nearest wall.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I spit out.

He shifts his beady eyes from side to side.

A throat clearing gets my attention as the barman lets us know to break it up. So much for keeping a low profile.

“It’s your lucky night.” I release him with a shove, and head back to the booth when I hear Scarlett moaning.

“Let’s get you home.” I lean down to pick up her bag, and all the contents, which are now spilled over the scuffed wood floor. As I’m collecting her things, something catches my eye. It looks like a little black book. I bet that holds lots of secrets.

She groans, so I remind myself to take a closer look later. Dumping everything into her bag, I stand and reach to lift her from her curled position in the booth. When I do, she lurches forward and empties her stomach on my boots. Shit!

I try to jump back, but the damage is done. I grab some napkins and take her face in my hands, trying to at least clean her mouth off. Her hair and clothes seem to be fine, my shoes having caught the brunt of it.

“Home,” she croaks out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. I’ve got you,” I whisper as I sit her up.

“Did Teddy send you?” she slurs.

“Who’s Teddy?”

“He said he couldn’t come. He was busy. He’s always busy. They all are,” she mumbles before passing out again.

Who the fuck is Teddy? And why don’t I know about him?

The barman hollers over, “Get her out of here, will ya?”

Sure, send a drunk lady home with a strange man. What kind of establishment is this? What would she do if I weren’t here? Probably be out in a back alley while Lester and Stanley take turns having a go. Anger boils in my veins again. Those bastards got lucky.

I shake off my boots the best I can before walking up to the bar and laying cash out to settle my tab. The barman appears with a mop and bucket, eyeing me warily as I move back toward the booth and slip her bag over my shoulder before lifting her up and carrying her out, cradled in my arms. So now he’s suspicious?

“I’m a friend,” I call out over my shoulder. With a nod, he goes about mopping up the vomit. Imbecile.

The cool night air hits me, and the light drizzle coats us in its hazy wetness. The coolness makes me that much more aware of the heat of her body pressed tightly against me. I like the feel of her in my arms.

I shouldn’t. I can’t. I try to rid my mind of thoughts that shouldn’t be swirling in there like a damn tornado.

When we arrive at her car, I try to gently set her down to dig for her keys, but she sways from side to side. Leaning her against the hood of her shiny black sports car, I stand with her between my legs to hold her in place and fish her keys from the endless depths of her bottomless bag.

She squirms between my thighs and look up to find her laying back on the hood, her dark, prim and proper skirt riding dangerously high, exposing her milky white skin. My cock, straining against my trousers, a result of the friction. She’s like a bloody fantasy, all long legs and inviting pouty lips…her back arched off the hood of a sexy as hell car.

A light sheen of mist covers her skin, the dip between her breasts on full display from this angle. Setting the bag down beside her head, I hold her hip with one hand while tracing a single finger down the swell of her breast. The heat from her skin mingled with the cool mistI wipe away has me thinking of other places I’d like to touch. Instead, I bring my finger to my lips and lick the moisture away. No more. One touch. That’s all I allow myself.

It shouldn’t be this hard. I shouldn’t want her this much. It wouldn’t take anything at all for me to raise that skirt I little higher and pull away the tiny shred of lace that no doubt covers a perfectly manicured pussy. But I don’t. I can’t.

I might be an asshole, but I’m not that guy.

Pulling her to a standing position, I walk her to the passenger side of the car and unlock it with a beep, the sound echoing in the quiet night air. Once she’s properly fastened in, I fold myself into the driver’s side and adjust the seat, careful not to get the mess from my boots onto the spotless beige leather.

The car purrs to life, and a dark, pulsing beat fills the speakers. We drive to her flat in silence, except for the sad, seductive song playing. She leans against the door and closes her eyes. After a few minutes, her gentle snoring lets me know she’s fallen asleep. Hopefully I can get her safely home before she wakes. She probably wouldn’t understand why I’m doing this. Hell I don’t understand it.

Lucky for her, I know where she lives, thanks to my expert investigative skills.

More like stalker skills.

A harsh reminder I’m not just some guy driving a friend home who’s had a few to many. She’s a means to an end. That’s all. Nothing more. I lose myself in the music for the remainder of the ride and avoid the dark cloud of truth hanging over me.