ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (42 page)

“Well, if you wanted quiet,
I guess you probably picked the wrong bar…” I told him.

“No...” Trent said, his hand
covering mine, “I think I came to the right place.”

I gulped. It was a total
move, but it was
working.

“Is that so,” I strained to
say dispassionately.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his
widening smile exposing a few bright white teeth. “That’s so.”

I knew how he was looking at
me. His eyes tenderly slid along the curvature of my skin. I could have stopped
him… I should have stopped him… The problem was, I
wanted
him to look at me like that.

Goddammit,
I want him.

I
want him BAD.

And
the worst part is…he knows it.

As my throat grew tight and
my cheeks reddened, I became suddenly aware that I was still dressed for work…
Barely. My shirt was torn half open by the bikers, exposing the pink bra
beneath. The miniskirt had hiked itself up my thighs as I patched Trent up. Now
I was sitting in bed beside the hottest hunk of man flesh I’d ever laid my eyes
on.

And the very same man had an
infuriating, damning look plastered on his face. I could feel it, burning down
in his gaze as he looked at me.

That smug look that just
screamed
victory.

Fuck me.

Chapter 7

Trent

This bartender chick was
putty in my hands, gazing at me with widened eyes and heaving breasts. Her lips
subtly formed that slight little ‘
O’
that
I like so much, and I couldn’t help but smile deeper.
 

She only seemed more
aroused.

But I wasn’t going to
overplay the charm.

My knuckles brushed lightly
against her cheek, pushing a few strands of hair aside. She quivered beneath my
touch, her eyes locked onto mine.

“Thank you for cleaning me
up,” I whispered.

“Mhmm,” she nodded softly.

“How could I possibly repay
you?”

“You’ll…think of something.”

“I think I already have.”

I leaned down towards her.

Down towards my prize…

And suddenly, the distant
clang
of a door.

She leapt up from the bed,
from me, and hesitantly wandered to the doorway. With a hand against the wall,
she carefully peered out.

A voice called out,
distantly.

“Angel… Angel?”

It was the sound of an old
man, older and raspier than the bikers. Sounded like it was probably an old bag
of bones, at least from first impression.

At his calling, she
immediately left.

So,
THAT’S her name,
I thought to myself. It was fitting…

It was only then that I
realized that I’d never learned it. Any immediate shame got dismissed with a
quick shrug. Hell, half the groupies I’d fucked never had a name to their
faces.

And the ones that did…well,
I usually forgot those names by the morning.

I let a few moments idly
saunter past, waiting for her to come back and tell me that everything was
fine. As the seconds dragged on to minutes, I realized that this was a little
more serious…

I couldn’t make any out any
of the conversation from back here, but it sounded like the intruder and my
improvised medic were having quiet the emotional chat.

Grumbling, I slowly rose
from the bed.

She
had been right here.

She
was going to be mine.

My muscles ached, and I
ignored how they snarled in pain. Steadying myself against the wall, I took a
few injured steps, finally making it to the doorway.

Fuck.
I’m in worse shape than I thought.

Entering the hallway in a
slight hunch, I was able to limber up a little with each consecutive step. By
the time I rounded the corner, crossed a storage room, and came to where they
were, I could move far easier.

It was the bar.

The
bar?

“I thought you said we were
at your place,” I complained to Angel, who was speaking to some old, grumpy
looking bastard of a man. They both immediately turned to me with mutual shock,
their conversation temporarily forgotten.

The old geezer looked
indignant.

What
is he, her grandfather?

“This…
is
my place,” Angel replied, her eyes full of surprise and
embarrassment. “This is where I work, and where I live…
home sweet home!
And what the
hell
are you doing up?”

“Angel,” the decrepit old
man addressed her, his withering gaze locked disdainfully onto me. “Would you
care to explain why a shirtless man is back there with you, in my bar, after
hours?”

“I was telling you that
someone saved me,” she answered. The look on her face told me that she was
furious that I’d revealed myself.

Tough
shit.

She continued, waving her
hand in my direction. “Well,
this
is
that someone.”

“I…see.” He turned to her, a
disappointed look plastered across those old wrinkles. “So, in exchange for
rescuing you, you just thought that you’d throw this stranger a little pity
fuck?”

Angel was visibly stunned.

“Hey,” I told him. “I don’t
know who the fuck you are, but don’t you dare talk to her like that.”

The man chuckled. “Got a
mouth on you, too. I’ll have you know that Angel lives here, rent-free, under a
few conditions.
Rule number one, no
boys.”

“I’m not a
boy
,” I growled.

“Yes…I can see that,” he
observed, his withered glance sliding along my muscles. “And that’s even
worse.”

He turned to face her, and
she wilted under his angry gaze.

“Nice to see that you have
such reverence for my rules. You have disappointed me, Angel. I thought that I
had been
very clear
what would happen
if you did. Have I not put you up here, taken care of you, and put up with your
constant rulebreaking? And now
this.
”

“I’m sorry, Old Greg,” she
murmured. “Don’t throw me back out. I was only patching him up, honest. He just
woke up. Ask him.”

Old Greg glowered at me.

“Is this true?”

I thought about spitting out
some sort of retort. Of punishing him for daring to come between us, or
her
for leaping up and ripping my prize
away.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I
answered begrudgingly.

“But you’re shirtless.”

“You’re observant, aren’t
you?” He was seriously pissing me off, and I couldn’t help but take the pot
shot. But before his indignant glare could smolder into action, I quickly
added: “I took a few hits. She was making sure my ribs weren’t broken.”

After a moment to stifle his
reaction, the old man nodded, apparently accepting this explanation.

“Which reminds me… next
time, you let the
hospital
handle
your wounded friends. Angel, you told me that you’re
supposed
to be letting that part of your life go. Always patching
people up yourself. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes sir,” she quietly
agreed.

“Because it doesn’t look
like that now.” He pointed at me. “
He
should
be seeing a doctor right now. Not lying around in the back of a bar. I mean,
what kind of supplies do we seriously have? What if he needs an emergency room?
You should have sent him from here in an ambulance.”

“I’m in good shape,” I cut
in.

“No son, you look as bad as
your attitude. Both of which are
absolute
shit
,” he grumbled throatily. A slight cough rumbled out from his chest,
and he quieted it with a handkerchief. “Tell me, is that
your
fancy jeep out front?”

“That’s right,” I answered.

“Good. Can you drive?”

“I think so,” I blurted out.

I realized my mistake too
late.

“Fine. Get in your jeep and
drive, then.”

I swallowed angrily.

Old Greg continued. “Closest
after-hours clinic is a few miles down the Interstate. Head east. Look for
Brightsdale.
Pass the welcome sign, a
mile down on the left. Can’t miss it. Big bright building, probably the only
one with the lights on at this time of night.”

Angel’s eyes met mine. She
was hurt and confused, but I could tell she was resigned to this.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t
so convinced.

“You want me out? After I
saved your tenant?”

Old Greg bristled. “Son, as
the owner of the roof currently over your head, I want you seeking proper
medical attention, instead of sniffing around my
tenant
as you so respectfully put it.”

I wanted to lash out.

I wanted to hit him.

But I bit my tongue.

When I didn’t snap at his
words, the owner visibly softened – even if only by a little. With a deep sigh,
he pointed over at Angel.

“Don’t get me wrong: you
saved her. I’m grateful. The sheriff told me what you did, and I shudder to
think what would have happened if you weren’t here.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“This sort of thing happen
often?”

Old Greg soured.

“Not usually, no. I have no
earthly idea what got into them tonight. You see, now I have to go through the
trouble of figuring out a bouncer for a little while…”

“Right. Not a bad idea.
Better than leaving her here alone with patrons you two clearly can’t control.”

He looked me in the eyes,
deciding whether or not to jump into a fresh round of passive-aggressive arguing
with me. Only, I was prepared to back it up a little more
viciously
this time, fueled by a rock-hard cock that demanded
release.

This idiot had fucked it all
up.

Things had been going
great.

“Yes… you’re right,” he
conceded. “And I will figure out what to do about that very soon. Now then, I’m
going to politely ask you to leave my bar. Make me ask again… maybe it’s not so
nice next time.”

“Can she walk me out?” I
asked him.

The crusty bar owner turned
to her, and then nodded. “If Angel wants, so long as she’s back inside shortly.
She’s got a damn hole in my roof that needs patching. I’m amazed, frankly, that
you didn’t blow my whole fucking bar down.”

Pushing my confidence and
arrogance aside, I decided to leave on a high note. “I’m sorry for the trouble,
sir,” I extended my hand. “I’ll be on my way.”

Old Greg nodded quickly, but
ignored the gesture all the same. “Two minutes,” he assigned me. “More than
enough time for the two of you.”

I let his blatant disrespect
slide, and instead just walked out the door. Angel dejectedly fell into step
beside me right afterwards. We hung around at the jeep for a moment.

“You’re not coming back, are
you?” She asked morosely as she twisted her hair in her fingers. It was kind of
sad to see, even for me.

“Do you have a cell phone?”
I redirected the conversation. “Some way of getting in touch with you?”

“No, no phone,” she
responded quietly.

Wow.
No phone, living in the back of a bar, and I barely saw anything that looked
like it could be hers…

“That’s a shame, because I
still owe you for trying to patch me up,” I told her. An opportunity was
already formulating in the back of my head. “
RipFest
doesn’t shut shop tonight. We’re playing another set
tomorrow night. You should come.”

“But that’s so far,” she
mumbled, glancing vaguely in the right direction. “There’s no way I can walk
that, and I have to patch that hole tonight...”

“Don’t need to walk it,” I
replied calmly.
Yes, this is all falling
into place.
“You’re staying here, right? I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

“You’d do that?” She was
stunned.

“Of course. Least I can do,”
I smiled. It was hard to keep my wickedness out of my voice.

Angel apparently saw that,
and hesitated for a moment. It was enough for my smile to falter.
Fuck. Did I just overplay this?
“But I,
well… I guess it’s true that I’m not working tomorrow night…”

“Want to see a real rock
star in his element? I’ll get you a backstage pass. You’ll watch the show from
the sidelines. No fighting through sweaty crowds and mosh pits. You’ll be safe
with a view to kill for.”