Fighting to Forgive (Fighting Series) (2 page)

Everyone in the club follows suit, finishing in a symphony of hollered agreement. I hop off the bar and into the tentacle arms of my admirers.

“Great toast, baby,” the platinum-haired beauty to my right says as she rubs her body against mine.

I bend down, sliding my tongue into her eager mouth and grabbing a fistful of her ass. Nothing gets a second girl’s interest like pure, hot, jealousy. And sure ’nuff, her friend presses herself to my side and slides her hand down my stomach to the waistband of my pants.

I’m numb and can’t taste or feel much. But my dick roars to life, searching for somewhere hot and wet. It’s not even midnight yet, and I’m trashed. If I don’t get these girls home and naked soon, I may pass out before getting laid.

“Dude, get a room. Or at least find a dark corner.”

I pull back from my blurry make-out session and focus my drunken gaze on Caleb and the new guy—
what’s his name?
Caleb invited him out tonight. He moved here from a beach town, and being a transplant, he had nowhere to ring in the New Year. He’s supposed to be the next hot-shit UFL fighter. Looks like a lifeguard from Baywatch to me.

“You assholes jealous?” I tuck a girl under each arm and lean against the bar.

The guys laugh, but I don’t miss the flash of envy in their eyes.

Rex and his drummer, Talon, show up with a few girls in tow. They’re all hot, dressed in barely-there clothes for easy access, and asking all sorts of naughty questions with their eyes.

One of the many things I love about Vegas is that there’s no shortage of women who’re looking for the no-strings kind of hook-ups I’m all about.

Fuck, I love my life.

“Great set, T-Rex,” I say, and mean it.

Ataxia is the perfect combination of old school and melodic punk rock. And Rex, that fucker can write a song.

“Thanks, man.” Rex shifts his gaze around the group. “Where’s Jonah? I thought you said him and Ray were coming by.”

A burst of laughter unexpectedly flies from my lips. “Yeah right. That dude’s been shacked up with his new wife at home since they got back from Bora Bora. I bet they haven’t worn clothes more than a few times since they’ve been married.”

Not that I blame the bastard. Raven’s not only hot, but she’s tough. The shit she went through last fall at the cabin… no typical woman could have done what she did. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Women are weak. Raven’s an anomaly.

I blink and shake my head against my conflicting thoughts. While I’m happy for the pussy-whipped Jonah, I’m glad that ain’t me. Raven carries more baggage than Boeing. He acts like it’s a damn pleasure to lug that weight around. No thank you.

I’m no fool to the ways of women. And I’d prefer to stick with the ones that are cool with casual sex without complications.

Speaking of which, my enthusiastic dates for the evening are getting restless, the strokes of their wandering hands growing even more bold.

“You girls hungry? I got something in my pocket that should fill you up.”

The blonde moans and licks her lips before running them along my neck. Her friend tosses her chestnut curls over her shoulder, a look of jealousy flaring in her eyes.

I smile and pull her to my side, leaning in to speak in her ear. “Don’t worry, babe. There’s plenty of me to go around.” In an effort to punctuate my words, I grab her ass and grind her against my thigh.

She slides her hand into the back pocket of my jeans. “Both of us?” she asks, with what sounds like a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

“Yeah, both of you.” I pull back to meet her eyes. “It’s a New Year. Try something
new
. You’ll be glad you did.”

It doesn’t matter if she agrees or not. There’re a handful of women who would take her place. A few I can see from where I’m standing, the rest an easy speed dial away.

She chews her lip, thinking it over.

The blonde has made her way to my mouth, grabbing my chin to pull me to her parted lips. Vodka on her tongue mixes with the sugary flavor of her lip-gloss. I sink into her kiss, making sure to give decision girl a visual that she won’t soon forget, a taste of what she’ll be missing.

Before long decision girl is tugging on my arm. I break the kiss and give her my ear.

She flexes her hand that’s still in my back pocket, and she runs her other up my chest. “I’m in.”

“Great news, babe.” I study her expression. Everything about her body language says she wants to go home with me, but something in her eyes puts my alcohol-flooded mind on alert. “You ready?” I press her, testing.

“Yeah, just let me hit the ladies room and make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

She pushes up on her tiptoes, going for my lips.

I turn my head, taking her kiss on the cheek. “Phone call? Let me guess, husband?”

She recoils, her eyebrows pinching together. “No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” She looks around then leans into my ear. “I have to call my sitter. Let her know I’ll be late.”

This shit ain’t happening.
“Whoa, whoa.” I hold up my hand. I don’t need any more information than that. “No.”

“No?” Her mouth hangs open.

“Um, more like
hell
no.”

“I don’t—”

“Sorry, babe. You’re good looking, but I’ve got to send you packing.”

She gasps and pulls her hand from my back pocket. “I… I…”

“Yo, Baywatch,” I call out to the new guy, motioning for him to come over. He’s what I would think most girls would find attractive. A little too pretty, but muscled enough to look straight.

“What’s up, Blake?” He eyes the young mother who’s still standing there stiff and offended.

“I want to introduce you to…” I’m not hiding the fact that I don’t know her name. I swing my gaze to her and wait.

She glares at me. “Alana.”

“This is Baywatch.” I put pressure on her lower back, pushing her to him.

Baywatch looks pleased with his gift. “Hey, it’s nice to meet—”

Alana jerks her head around. “You’re a dick.”

I shrug.

The blonde at my side watches me brush off her friend. “Alana, are you okay?”

Nothing will kill my buzz faster than a nasty chick fight. It’s not personal. Hell, I’m probably doing the girl a favor. I’m definitely doing her kid a favor. Girl with a mouth to feed doesn’t need to be paying a babysitter overtime so she can go home with a dude that’ll fuck her and never call her again.

I murmur a quick “Be right back” and move to the opposite side of the bar, where Rex and the boys are hanging out. Baywatch isn’t far behind me. Apparently, chick fights aren’t his thing either. Maybe he deserves more credit than I gave him.

“What happened, B? You strike out?” Rex says.

He’s teasing. He knows I never go home alone on a holiday.

“Biding my time, Rex. Night’s still young and full of possibility.”

“I don’t get it.” Baywatch’s voice is laced with disapproval. “Those chicks were hot. And you just… walked away.”

“Blake’s got selective taste. He’s always blowing off the hot ones for the
hotter
ones.” Rex laughs and takes a pull off his beer. The groupies at his side seem to have taken on a sudden interest in our conversation.

“What’s your secret?” New guy steps up, genuine curiosity in his eyes. But fuck, what’s his name?

“You want to know my secret, Baywatch?” I’m totally fucking with this guy. There is no secret.

Truth is, I have no clue why nailing chicks is easy. It might have something to do with the fact that I only go for the ones who may as well have a bright green “Enter” sign hanging from their belt loops. I don’t like a challenge. The easier, the better. Taking a chick out on a date and investing time in getting to know her is not how I operate. Sure, even some of the easier girls can get clingy, but I make it clear it’s only about the sex. If they hold on to ideas about having a future with me, that’s their problem.

Fact is, a decent looking guy who can’t get any play is probably humping up the wrong tree.

“Fuck, yeah.” Baywatch nods and—
is he taking notes?

Caleb laughs. “This shit ought to be good.”

“Okay.” I flag down the bartender for a beer and turn to my eager student. “When you come to a place like this, what’re you looking for?”

He slides his gaze to a group of girls at the bar. “Meet girls.”

“Ah-ha.” I point in his face. “There it is. To meet girls.” Shaking my head, I lean back against the bar. “That’s your problem.”

Baywatch drops his shoulders. “That’s it? That doesn’t even make sense.” He throws his arms out. “Every guy here is out to meet girls.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. Me? I’m here to find a chick… or two… who I can take home and bang until I pass out from dehydration.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference, young Hasselhoff, is that meeting girls implies time. Buying her a drink, asking her about her fucking job, learning that she has a sister in Chicago she hasn’t seen since Christmas, and having to listen to her talk about her ex-boyfriend and how he broke her innocent little heart.”

“So what you’re saying is I should just walk up to a girl and tell her I’m interested in meaningless sex for one night? That works?”

“Dude, have you been listening to a single word I’ve said?” I slug back half my fresh beer. I’m giving this guy valuable information, and he’s only picking up on the outline. “No, you compliment her. Make her feel like the sexiest woman in the room. Don’t ask her about her life. You don’t really care, and women are smart as shit. They pick up on your insincerity. Give her the fantasy.”

I give the novice a second to absorb the chick-getting info-bomb I dropped in his lap. Rex, Caleb, and the other guys from the band all watch—
Mason!
That’s his name.

“And that works?” His face is screwed tight.

“No. After you give her the fantasy, then you tell her you want to take her home and do things to her body that will make her scream so loud she’ll lose her voice.”

The guys all bust up laughing, but a few girls in the groupie-huddle inch closer to me. My eyes lock on a hot redhead. Her shy smile is a total front. She’s down for a good time.

I take her in from her fuck-me heels to her fake tits. She’ll do. I motion for her to come closer, and she complies. Damn, I dig a woman who’ll obey.

“Your tricks won’t work on me,” she purrs, sliding her cocktail straw between her lips.

“My tricks, huh? I only play games in one place, and that’s by invitation only.”

She runs her teeth along her lower lip. Yeah, she wants the invite. In the mood to have a little fun, I decide I’m going to make her beg for it. I turn my back on her, happy to see another girl, this one with blond hair and long legs.

“Damn, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I say, making sure to keep my eyes locked on hers.

She ducks her chin and smiles. “Thank you.”

Easy. This girl clearly isn’t used to being complimented.

I run my finger along her arm from shoulder to wrist and smile at her responding shiver. “What’s your name?”

“Faye.” She smiles, flashing the silver from a tongue piercing, and takes a pull from her cocktail straw.

“Well, fuck me.” Literally. “What’s a girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?”

She bursts into laughter, and I tug her to me.

Bitches in a barrel.

I turn back and see Mason with his mouth wide open and his arms hanging at his sides. Rex, Caleb, and the guys are all nodding and laughing.

Happy New Year to me, motherfuckers.

~*~

I’m hot, and my body feels heavy and pinned down. I squint into the bright light and slam my eyes shut. Ouch. My head throbs and rolls. A sharp twist in my stomach has me moaning.
Fuck.

I try again, opening one eye slowly, then the other.
Holy shit.

I’m in my room, on my bed, and my legs are immobile. I look down the length of my body, which isn’t even covered by a sheet. A tangle of bodies covers my king-sized bed. I drop my head back and close my eyes, praying like hell I can remember what went on here last night.

Damn, I shouldn’t have kept drinking. I remember leaving the club and jumping in a cab with some girls. Two, right? I pinch the bridge of my nose. Ah, shit. Three. All three girls from last night.

Pushing up to my elbows, I count the legs to make sure. All of them are long, slender, toned, and hairless. Except one.
Oh shit. Please—
I wiggle my toes, and the toes on the hairy leg wiggle.
Thank God.
I drop back to the bed, my heart racing. I rub my eyes with my fists, which only intensifies my headache and steals my breath.

I’m never drinking again.

A sleepy, feminine groan sounds from around my hip, then another from near my stomach. And with that, the entire girl-pile comes to life, arms and legs detangling from the human dream catcher.

I hear a small gasp, and one of the girls hops up. I watch through one eye as the blonde races around the bed, picking up pieces of clothing and throwing them back to the ground. It’s funny, but when my lips curve into a smile—
fucking hell
—it quickly fades. All the booze I drank last night continues to torture me.

My phone explodes in a violent ring from my bedside table.
Ouch! Shit.
The sound gets the girls moving and sitting up.

“Mmm-ello?”

Faye is up and shoving her arm in a balled-up piece of black fabric. Nope, wrong shirt. She tosses it on the bed and searches the floor. A grin tugs at my lips.

“Dude, you better be up, fuckface,” Jonah growls from the other end of the phone.

I lower the volume to save myself from the crippling pain. “Shit, it’s New Year’s day. I’m sleeping in. And so should you.”

“I’m pulling up to your place now. Remember, we’re going to the New Year’s picnic at Raven’s Nest.”

“That’s not ’til one.”

I’m sidetracked as I watch the girls exchange clothes along with awkward glances.

“It’s twelve-thirty.”

Fuckin’ hell.