Page 16 of Filthy Hot

“The girl at the bar. New in town, fresh and beautiful.”

Arching a brow, I don’t respond to his words verbally. I’m not sure they need a response. Kyle is beautiful. Long dark hair, long sexy legs, tight ass, handful-sized tits. She’s my type—if I ever had to choose a type, which I never have.

I’m not someone who dates. I’m someone who fucks, much like the rest of my brothers. Except they’re all beginning to succumb to women and relationships, to marriages and babies. I can’t deny that as much as I pretend I want nothing to do with that shit, they’re happy as fuck.

I don’t understand that emotion—happiness. I’ve never felt it before, at least not in the last twenty years or longer, so watching Atomic and King find theirs is intriguing.

“You come from fucked-up shit, brother,” Atomic points out as if I don’t know that already.

I hum. “Yeah, I know that,” I grunt.

He doesn’t say anything else immediately. He lifts his glass to his mouth again and takes another drink, lets out a hiss, then turns his head, swinging his gaze over to meet mine. His eyes search my own, and he frowns slightly.

“Didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant that you may not realize that you have a thing for her. I wasn’t the best at figuring my shit out. I don’t want you to waste a decade like me.”

Atomic did waste a lot of fucking time. He missed the first six years of his kid’s life. But I would like to think I’m not going to let that shit happen. Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out as I slide off the barstool.

“I think you’re jumping the gun here,” I murmur, lifting my hand before I clap it down on his shoulder and gently shake him. “I don’t even know her last name.”

Atomic’s gaze slowly shifts to the side, his eyes finding mine again. “Don’t have to know even her first name to want to fuck her, to want to keep her,” he murmurs. “Ask me. Ask King.”

“I know,” I say before I walk away.

Instead of going to my room, like I should, I walk out of the clubhouse and toward my bike. The rock music is loud behind me, and not for the first time, I’m glad we’re out here in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors to complain.

Climbing onto my bike, I start the engine and roar down the driveway and out of the clubhouse compound. I’m not sure where I’m going yet. It’s too dark to go to the lake, so instead, I make my way toward town.

And because I’m a fucking asshole who can’t keep his mind off the pretty girl I saw earlier, I make my way straight toward the motel. I already know she’s staying there. Sal murmured that tidbit when I left his bar.

I think the old fuck is trying to set us up, and I’m going to soak in all the information he wants to give me.

Pulling into the parking lot of the motel, I park beside her piece-of-shit car and scan it. She needs a sweet ride, and this is not that, but I’m sure it’s probably paid off. And sometimes, a paid-off car can be the sweetest ride there is.

There is a whistle to my left, and I turn my head, looking over to see Ophelia waving me in from her office. Killing my engine, I throw my leg over my bike and move toward the office.

Tugging the door open, I slip inside and walk over to her counter. She tosses something toward me, and I catch it instinctually.

“A deck of cards,” I mutter.

“Play double solitaire with me. I need to stay awake, and the lives on my game haven’t replenished yet.”

“On your game?” I ask.

“Some app on my phone. I don’t pay for the premium, so I am stuck waiting for the lives to replenish. Set up your cards,” she mutters.

Slipping the cards from the deck, I shuffle them a few times, then set up my end of the game. Ophelia does the same, her eyes finding mine and her lips curving up into a smile. She laughs softly before she speaks.

“Be ready to get your ass kicked.”

I chuckle and clear my throat, but before we start, I open my mouth to ask about Kyle. Ophelia lifts her hand, her gaze focused on mine before she speaks.

“Listen,” she begins, “don’t know much about her. What I do know is she’s been through the wringer, whatever it was. She’snot here to party or get fucked by some fuckboy in leather. She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell she needs someone to take care of her and to actually careforher.”

“Are you finished?” I ask.

“That’s all I have to say about that,” Ophelia snaps.

“I’m not here to be a fuckboy. I don’t even know Kyle yet. Just met her today. I like what I see. I’d like to get to know her better. I didn’t want to party tonight, and my bike brought me here. I wasn’t planning on acting on anything yet. Tonight is going to be me and you playing cards.”

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