Page 88 of Filthy Savage

I hum. “No men, just girls,” I remind him.

He gives me a grin. It’s sneaky and sexy. I love it. “Will you record it for me?” he asks.

I burst out laughing, mainly because of the way he said it. It’s clear that he’s just like every man in the world, and the thought of me and another woman dancing on that pole is exciting to him.

“If anything exciting happens, I’ll record it, but I’m telling you, nothing exciting is going to occur. It’s going to be us drinking, snacking, talking, and maybe dancing. Bren and Ophelia will be there, so I’m sure they’ll be giving out lessons again.”

He grins, nodding a couple of times before he takes a step backward. “When you’re ready to go home, you call me. I won’t be far.”

“Ophelia can probably take me—” I don’t get the rest of my sentence out. Because he interrupts me. He holds his hand up, effectively shutting me up. Then he leans forward, and I think that maybe he’s going to kiss me and mess up my lipstick, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll pick you up, beautiful. I want you tipsy and on the back of my bike in that dress.”

Well then.

Okay.

“Okay,” I breathe.

A few moments later, I’m sober and on the back of his bike in my dress as we head straight for the bar. Sal’s comes into view, and it looks a little ominous without the lights being on. There are a few cars in the parking lot. Evan pulls up to Ophelia’s, and I climb off his bike.

He doesn’t get off, but he also doesn’t let me walk away from him yet. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist, tugging me closer to him. Lacing his fingers with mine, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I look at him, watching him and waiting for what he’s going to say.

“Don’t forget,” Evan murmurs. “Anything sexy, record it,” he says.

Rolling my eyes, I shift my attention back to him and release my lip. “I’ll get right on that, but I’m telling you there won’t be any videos because we won’t be doing anything like that.”

Evan laughs and tugs me forward again as he shifts and then touches his lips to the center of my throat. “Text me when you’re ready, and I’ll come get you,” he rasps against my throat.

A shiver of desire slides down my spine. It’s been less than eight hours since he’s been inside of me, and I want him right now. I ache, my body is sore, but I still want him all over again.

Taking a step backward, I lift my hand and wave my fingers before I turn and head straight for the front door of the bar. I need to get away from him right now, or I’m going to climb into his lap and beg him to fuck me right here in this parking lot. I would feel zero shame at all. That is how he makes me feel.

I reach for the handle of the door, tug it open, and stop, turning my head to look over my shoulder at him. He’s watching me, his gaze focused on me and nowhere else. I feel like the only woman on earth right now.

When I give him a smile, he jerks his chin in my direction, and I slip inside the building. If I don’t go inside right now, I might not ever, and I’m excited about a girls’ night. Stepping into the bar, I am not surprised to see it empty, but there are only a few lights on around the bar, and that surprises me. I don’t even know why.

Moving through the space, I make my way toward the back of the club. Turning to the strip club room, I stop in the doorway. There is construction happening at the end of the hall, but it’s all blocked off, so I know this is where they must be.

Stepping into the room, I smile. Everyone else is in there. They’re sitting around and talking, drinks in their hands, musicplaying just loud enough in the background to be heard, but not too loud that anyone has to yell over it.

It’s perfect.

Observing them, I wonder if this is real life.

Do I finally have friends?

I never thought I would have a group, a posse of women. But I do. I move into the room and smile as I make my way toward the girls. As soon as they sense my presence, everyone stands and hugs me in greeting.

This is real. These are my friends, and I can finally breathe. I belong.

BREW

Starting my engine,I flick my gaze to the side of the building. As I jerk my chin, my lips curve up into a grin. There are two prospects standing guard. I know they won’t go inside. They wouldn’t dream of doing anything that could possibly jeopardize their position in the club.

They’ve had extensive background checks, like everyone else in the club. After the Loner fiasco and his being the grandson of the Southern Mafia leader in Shreveport, we decided to check everyone. That means there is a file on all of us, including me.

I feel safe enough leaving the women here with the prospects for the evening. On my way to the clubhouse, I decide to get some much-needed work done. I have schedules to do, and it seems as though my workload has quadrupled recently with all the new additions to what is going on with the Southern Mafia, keg deliveries, and warehouse transportation.

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