Page 19 of Throttle

“Fucking great.” I'm tortured about how many other people tonight have admired her the way I am right now. Despite her being an absolute goddess in that thing, she’s uncomfortable.

Speaking of chumps. I divert my focus to our new prospect. The desire to insert my fist into his mouth is astronomical. Can’t say I blame him. However, him staring like he wants to jam his cock inside Tequila is pissing me the fuck off.

“I’ll be right back.” The chair scratches the floor as I march over there.

She might not be my girl, but she’s the most precious human on this planet to me. You can trust that I'll be there when someone disrespects her. I’ll always watch out for her.

I grab the nearby seat and settle down next to him. The asshole has the nerve to pretend I’m not here. Still fucking watching her and I’m two seconds from smashing his head into this table.

He doesn’t speak, still ignoring my presence. It's funny how he doesn't seem to care about testing his patch, even though I outrank him.

There was something about this new guy, Chain let in, and I don’t like him.

“Something you need help with, brother?”

Finally.

I smirk as I read his prospect patch: Brass. Why the name?

“Nah, but I realize you got a death wish.”

“Not sure what you mean by that.” He leans back, crossing his ankles, taking another glance at the woman I would die for. Burn down the world for.

Anything less than that would be unfair to her.

“See that girl over there? The one you are eye fucking. She’s off limits. You stay away from her, got me, Brass?”

“I don’t see a girl. But I do see a fine woman. She yours?”

As a teenager with overbearing parents, I learned a new trick of counting to ten before responding. I’ve realized such a simple technique comes a long way.

“No.”

“You guys fucking?”

I grind my teeth, two seconds away from punching this dude. “Not exactly.”

He peels his eyes from her. He’s confused and that’s fine. I’d be too. I’m giving him the boyfriend speech. The one I have zero right to give.

Tequila’s infectious laugh carries over our way. Her head tilts back, and her long hair cascades over her shoulder.

“Either you are, or you aren’t,” he demands, swirling his drink.

“No. We’re not.”

“So, let me get this straight.” The asshat leans forward, elbows pressing on the table. “She’s not your girl. You guys aren’t fucking. But you’re over here telling me you’ll send my manhood through a meat grinder if I don’t keep my hands off her. So, what is the reason I’m supposed to stay away again?”

Heads turn as I slam my palm down.

This isn’t me. I'm a person who loves having fun and cracking jokes. The guy who is popular with women. The one people go to for a good time, but I’ve been up tight as fuck without a damn decent answer for it.

“She’s very special. And I don’t care for you. And how you’re looking at her grinds my cock and not in the way I’d like.”

“You don’t even know me, man. Not my issue you have a problem with me.”

Within seconds, I'm on my feet and the club falls into silence.

I’m ready. Just one solid hit. I want it so badly I can taste it.

---