Page 14 of The Sentinels

All they wanted from me was an occasional fuck because they were enthralled with my biker image and were willing to overlook the rest for bragging rights. They used me. I used them. We both walked away satisfied.

I shot another glance at Emerson, clenching my teeth when I saw her grinding up against the prick who'd joined her on the dance floor. He was grinding right back into her delectable ass, his hands holding her hips. The thought of his dick getting hard against what was mine caused me to stand up with a loud growl.

A warning tone immediately threw ice water in my face, bringing me back to the fucking reality of the situation. "Easy, brother. She's not yours." I paused and looked down at Sid. His expression was hard, but I noticed a spark of understanding in his eyes.

Christ. Was I so fucking transparent? The knowledge pissed me off. I forced a grin on my lips. "Relax, brother. I'm just doing what Della suggested and going to dance."

My gaze moved back to the dance floor, exploring the possibilities, when a woman gyrated herself right into my line of vision. “She was tall and thin—not my type—but her ample tits made up for it.” The invitation in her eyes was obvious, and I followed the crook of her finger until I moved into position behind her. I put my hands on her skinny hips, wincing at the bones I felt there. She instantly thrust her ass into my dick and started to grind.

"I've had my eyes on you!" she shouted over her shoulder, a smile on her ruby red lips.

"Is that so?" I asked, trying to get into the mood. I leaned in a little, putting my mouth against her skin right below her ear. Her ass felt good grinding against my dick, but not good enough to turn it hard. A tiny tingle and that was it.

She shook her head, sending a cloud of perfume up my nose. "Yes!" She wound her arms up and around my neck. "You're a biker, right? I can tell by your cut! Bikers have always turned me on!" If she only knew how many times I'd heard that shit before. As if realizing that her movements weren't turning me hard she reached back, aiming straight for the front of my pants. "Not feeling it, baby?"

Not a damn bit. I made the mistake of looking up and right into Emerson's eyes. She had stopped dancing and was standing in front of me, frozen, a look on her face that I couldn't decipher. If I didn't know better I'd have guessed that it was disappointment that I saw in her eyes, and something else. Hurt? The man she'd been dancing with was gone. A quick glance behind her revealed that he was at the bar, possibly getting them drinks. My eyes met hers again, and there was no way I could misinterpret the sad resignation that had replaced the earlier emotions I’d seen in her eyes.

Before I could try and guess why, she turned away and joined her man friend at the bar. I realized that the hand at my pants was now trying to undo my zipper. Was she crazy? I scowled and brushed her hand away.

"Not in the fucking mood," I snarled, walking back to the table.

Chapter 9

Emerson

God, I was going to be sick. It was bad enough that I'd caught Ace and that woman getting busy on the dance floor, but I'd also consumed enough alcohol to make an elephant drunk. Jesus, I was stupid sometimes. The girls were long gone, and I was still at JJ’s with what's-his-name. Doyle--I'd learned his name around our fifth dance--seemed to be holding his liquor. Or maybe he didn't have the same unreasonable reasons that I had to drown his sorrows in booze. Seeing Ace with that woman, who he’d let fumble around with his zipper while his mouth had been against her neck, had been a hurtful, eye-opening experience that I'd needed.

I was so over the asshole.

I was moving on.

I'd been a fool for falling for a man-whore, and I had no one to blame but myself. He'd never done anything to give me hope that we'd become anything more than we were. Well, now I knew exactly where I stood with him. No telling how many women he'd been with since he and I had begun our unusual arrangement, and I'd been a fool for thinking that I was his only one. Oh, God! I leaned over the toilet bowl and threw up. The sound seemed overloud in the restroom, drowning out the thumping noise of the music beyond the door.

Once I was done, I straightened and grabbed a few squares of tissue to wipe my mouth. My vision was blurred I could barely walk, and I knew it was just a matter of time before I was sick again. I stumbled my way to the sink and turned on the water, splashing my face with handfuls. Nope. It did nothing to sober me up. I laughed, weaving slightly, my image distorted in the mirror. I was a freaking mess!

It was time to go home. I'd call an Uber, because there was no way I was going to rely on Doyle for a ride, even if he had his own car. He may not have been drunk but he'd still consumed enough to put him over the legal limit, and even though we'd spent the better part of the evening together, he was still a stranger in my book. I'd watched enoughIDon TV to know that going home with strangers could land a girl missing or dead.

Suddenly there was a loud tap on the door. "You okay in there, Emerson?"

Doyle didn't sound drunk at all. How did he do it? I pushed myself away from the vanity and somehow made my way to the door, opening it to find him leaning against the wall across from me. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. "I see two of you," I giggled, stepping out. "I can't recall the last time I got this wasted."

He laughed, stepping my way. "Come on, beautiful, I'll take you home."

I immediately held up my hand, halting him. Doyle was a handsome man. He kind of reminded me of Ronan Farrow with his baby face, blonde hair, and startling blue eyes. He was at least six-two, muscular but lean. I'd felt the strength in his arms when we'd been dancing. I'd also felt the strength of his arousal against me, and while my body had reacted to it, it had been minimal. Maybe in time I'd find him more exciting …

"Not going home with you, handsome," I said firmly, trying to meet his eyes. "I watchID."

I could tell through my blurred vision that he was grinning."ID?"

I nodded."Investigation Discovery.You know,Disappeared, Homicide Hunter, Your Worst Nightmare,shows like that."

"Oh, yeah. I think I've seen one or two of those shows. They can warp your mind and make you paranoid."

"Or they can educate you about the horrors in the world and prepare you to act when necessary," I countered, laughing. "I'm serious. I'm not going to let you take me home."

"Well, I'm not about to let you drive yourself in your condition."

Even in my inebriated state I picked up on the displeasure in his tone. Was he mad or worried about me? I blinked rapidly up at him, but his expression was just a blur.

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