Page 171 of Bona Fide

“That’s right, but no threesomes for me tonight.”

I swear I see her cower. My little hard-ass, the woman with the big mouth and temper to match—flinches at the word “threesome”.

“What’s the matter?” I taunt, keeping the stool in between us because I’m afraid of what I might do without it there. “Bad fuck?”

Reagan hums, either keeping an outburst from coursing through her or she’s contemplating.

Either way, I’m not pleased with any of it. I’m not happy with the way shit ended. I’m not proud of what I’ve done. And I’m certainly not entertained by the fact that I just called Indie by her name over an hour ago.

“Sounds like someone is still upset,” Reagan deadpans.

“On the contrary, Miss Shelton,” I counter. “I have a woman with an ass for days upstairs waiting for me. The past doesn’t really crawl up on me these days, just Indie who climbs me like a fucking tree from time to time.”

“Seem to be doing well for yourself.” She crosses her hands over her chest, urging me to look down at her tits.

“Not too bad.” I shrug. “But I can’t keep up with you, so you win.”

“Well, if I knew we were competing, I would’ve had you in the room with us to watch.” My fingers clench at my sides as I cock my head to keep my inner rage in check.

She’s tormenting me, and I’m standing here like an idiot.

“Is that a thing now, watching men take your sloppy seconds?” That’s when she slides off the stool in between us and gets in my face.

“You sure about that? Because it seems like the woman you’re currently screwing is—”

“Seriously, can I leave you alone for ten minutes, Tsarina?” We both look over to see that big-ass motherfucker she calls a brother glaring at both of us.

I’m actually relieved he’s here. That means both men I’ve just accused her of being with aren’t with her. I can’t see big brother letting those two dumbfucks tag along.

And how does this asshole look bigger? I might need to drug test his platoon.

“I’d say she started it,” I allege, getting a smell of her perfume with how close she is to me. “But you’d side with her so…”

Marty stares at me with knitted brows. “Glad to know I’m serving a president with half a brain.”

I tip my hat. “Appreciate the faith, Soldier. Watch the bartender, she’ll try to fuck you in the basement and might poison your sister because of her big mouth, but you both enjoy your night.”

He ignores me and glances over at Reagan. “What do you want to drink?”

“Tequila.”

Marty hits me with another frown. “Say goodbye to my sister then get lost. I don’t want you here when I get back.” He strides from us, leaving silence in his wake.

“Still a nice guy.” I reach into my jean pocket and pull out one of my key cards. Putting it in her hand, I lean in to whisper, “Since you haven’t been fucked in a good while, Sox or Miss Shelton—I’ll call you whichever one you want to make you wetter—come up to my room. I’ll give you a replay of what you gave up.”

Then I pivot on my heels, leaving her with my words to soak into her brain and my cock straining against my zipper.

She won’t come.

Still doesn’t mean I don’t want her to.

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