Page 7 of Savage Spades

As she tossed the wet napkins in the nearby trash can, she noticed a pack of cigarettes on the brick window ledge. Someone must have left them. She’d given up smoking months ago, but she needed something to calm her nerves before going back inside. Jen needed her tonight. She grabbed the pack of Newports and opened it, relieved to see that a lighter was inside sandwiched between three cigarettes. She pulled one out and brought it to her lips. She cupped her hand to light it and inhaled. Her body instantly relaxed as the nicotine entered her system.

“That shit will kill you.”

She jumped at the deep voice. Blue Eyes stood in front of the closed door. His brown hair was tied up in a bun at the back of his head. Usually, she wasn’t a fan of the man-bun trend, but on this guy, it added to his look. His beard was cut short, but it was still very full. She hadn’t even heard the door open. Fuck, he had said something to her.

“It’s a cigarette, not a bomb,” she said, taking another puff. Couldn’t she just have a minute of quiet?

“Might as well be,” he grumbled.

She caught a glimpse of something silver in his mouth as he spoke. A tongue ring? Really?

“What do you want? Come out here to with your gang spill more whiskey on me?” she snapped, losing the little bit of control she’d been holding onto. “Where did you guys even come from? This isn’t a motorcycle bar, ya know. I have regular customers who wouldn’t appreciate your obnoxious friends.”

“Brothers.”

“What?”

“They’re my brothers--and you mean the old pervert and the divorced lady who were in here? Those are your regulars?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She flicked her cigarette to the ground.

“Fuck you. Go find somewhere else to drink.” She pushed past his large frame and walked back into the bar. It seemed like things had actually quieted down in the short amount of time she’d been outside. Jen leaned against the bar and talked to one of the men.

Cam walked around to the back of the bar and tapped Jen on the shoulder. “Are you okay out here?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m good…you know, you’re supposed to drop off the drinks--not wear them.”

Cam fumed her eyebrows together. “I'm aware.”

“I think I have an extra shirt in my purse from when I went out the other night.”

“I’m not going to be able to fit into your shirt. I’m fine. It’ll dry soon.”

Jen moved her mouth to the side as if thinking about saying something. “Amire might need some help with the kitchen.”

Thank god. If Jen could hold down the bar, Cam was fine with hiding in the back until these assholes left.

“Alright, let me know if it gets crazy again,” she said before heading to the kitchen.

Amire lifted a fry basket out of the hot oil and dumped a container of mozzarella sticks inside.

Cam grabbed an apron that hung on the wall. “Heard you need help.”

Chapter Four

Kit

He sat up in bed. It took him a minute to realize what woke him. Bang, bang, bang. The wooden, bedroom door shook as someone on the other side banged on it.

“That redheaded bitch wants to know where her car is,” Jett yelled.

Kit ran a hand over his face. “Tell her it’ll be done by the end of the day!”

He listened to Jett’s retreating footsteps before resting back into the pile of pillows.

Blonde hair smacked him in the face as the girl beside him turned the other direction. He couldn’t remember her name. She was a new club groupie. The clubhouse always had its fair share of women hanging around. Too bad for them, he wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone…ever.

An image of the woman from the bar last night flashed in his mind. Green eyes, plump lips, and long, dark hair that he’d be more than happy to wrap his hand around while he fucked her from behind. His dick stirred at the thought.

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