Page 35 of Property of Azrael

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, pumping his hips up to meet mine when his own release hits, his cock twitching inside of me. Before I can catch my breath, he pulls me down and kisses me so hard, I know my lips will be bruised, but I don’t care. Not even a little.

I nuzzle into his side, clinging to his warmth, when he nudges me just as I’m on the verge of falling asleep.

“As much as I would love to lie here with you in my arms, basking in the afterglow, you have about five minutes before the event starts.”

Shit. The event.

AZRAEL

By the timewe get dressed and back down to the event, the first group of readers are entering. Fox and Orion are sitting at Hallie’s table, flanked by a few ladies standing in front of it. The guys are obviously loving the attention.

“There she is,” Fox calls out when he spots us. “Ladies, this here is my friend, Hallie. She’s the author.”

Hallie turns to me, a blush rising in her cheeks at seeing her very first readers at her table.

“Go sell some books. I’ll be right there. I’m just gonna grab us something to drink from the bar.” I wink at her. “Need to keep you hydrated for what I have in mind later.”

Her blush deepens, and she smiles, the beautiful red highlighting the brightness of her eyes. Damn. The afterglow of a good fuck session looks good on her. Something I have every intention of keeping on her after the event ends.

Hallie walks off for her table, and I head to the bar.

There’s a long line, but it moves quickly. Almost at the front, someone gently taps me on the shoulder. Turning to see who it is, I find a guy I don’t know, his thick beard concealing the lower part of his face. But despite the epic facial hair, he smiles at me.

“Hey, man. I’m one of the event photographers.” I shake his outstretched hand. “I know this probably seems forward, but I’m scouting for new talent for biker book covers, and you, sir, fit the bill of what my authors have been asking for. If you have any interest in a shoot, I’d be happy to talk about it with you.” Releasing my hand, he pulls out a business card from the top pocket of his button-up shirt and hands it to me. “My number and email address is on here.”

“Thanks.” I start to decline his invitation, but he’s gone just as quick as he appeared. I stand there, dumbfounded at the exchange, and shake my head. Though flattered, plastering my face on book covers is the last thing I want to do.

“You just going to stand there, or are you going to move?” a male voice from behind me growls.

“Excuse me?” I look over and find the man who was licking his fucking lips while staring at Hallie last night, standing behind me, his arms crossed over his chest as he glares at me.

“The fucking line moved.”

I peer back and realize there is a sizeable gap. “My bad.” I move ahead to fill in the open space.

“Fucking poser,” he mumbles under his breath. I whirl on my heel, coming fac- to-face with the bastard.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I snarl.

“You heard me well enough the first time.”

“I don’t think I did,” I fire back. “Try me again.”

“I called you a fucking poser. All you models show up at these events and get off on playing a biker for the readers. You pretty boys know nothing about the club life. It makes me fucking sick to see your bastardized version of a biker preying on lonely women.”

My fists curl at my sides, the business card crumpling in one of my hands. What does this guy know about being a biker? I haven’t seen a single color on his back. No patch. No insignia. If he’s patched, he’s sure not showing it. The only reason we’re not wearing ours is because we don’t need to show off for a crowd.

“That so, asshole?” I challenge. “How about we talk about you eye fucking my girl last night? If we want to talk about preying on women, I think we should start with that.” The asshole eyes me up and down. I have a good three inches and forty-five pounds on him. If he’s looking for a fight, he’s barking up the wrong goddamn tree.

“Not my fault she dressed like a slut. If she didn’t want to be looked at, she should’ve covered up.”

“The fuck did you just say?” My nerves and muscles contract, readying for a fight. I must have misheard him, because if I didn’t, shit’s gonna escalate quickly.

“She dressed like a slut,” he repeats with a cocky smile. “Seems to me she’s not getting enough attention from you if she’s going out like that in public.”

“Call my girl a slut one more time, motherfucker. Do it.” My knuckles are straining under the pressure, my heart pounding in slow thumps. I don’t need to make a scene for several reasons, but I’m not about to let this fucker say shit like that about Hallie or me. Especially not Hallie.

He shrugs. “Slut.”

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