Page 19 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

“Where’s yours at?” I ask, pressing a sly smile to my lips.

These men take their hospitality seriously. I’d stick out if I denied his request, especially someone of his ranking.

I press the glass’ cold edge to my lips. Of all the ones to find me, it’s their president’s right hand man. Is he testing me? Found me out and is playing a game. He’s watching my mouth then, glancing up with a disturbing stillness.

I down the shot, holding back a cough as the liquor burns through me. Another dead give away that I do not belong here.

Vance quirks an eyebrow, before taking the glass from me and motions to the bartender to refill it.

“Now it’s my turn,” he says over the music. When he lifts the short glass, clear liquid overflows, running on his hand. He lefts it to his lips, licking it away. His eyes never leave my own.

Holy fuck me. I swallow hard.

He downs the shot, slamming it down on the bar top.

“Why are you here, doll face?” He moves closer to me then, tilting his head to show me he’s listening. Suddenly, I feel as though I’m the only thing in this bar.

“Just looking for trouble I guess,” I roll my shoulders, feigning nonchalance.

Vance moves behind me, one arm on either side of me, caging me in. Suddenly, I’ve become a cornered rabbit. A small, helpless creature studied by a big bad wolf. My breath quickens and every one of my senses turns on.

“What a brave thing to say in a place like this,” he replies, his voice a low growl in my ear. “You know what happens to pretty little things that wander into places like these?”

“They get eaten alive?” I finish, maintaining eye contact. He finds it amusing, but I’m not joking.

He chuckles lowly, tickling my ear with his breath. “Not always. It depends on who finds them first.”

The bartender slides two full shots over, he downs it just as fast as the one before.

Please, not another round.

Vance’s hand snakes behind my neck, holding me in place as he leans down to whisper in my ear. The music is blaring over the speakers, and I barely hear him when he tells me to dance with him.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “You look like someone who needs to relax a bit.”

Chills run down my spine as his warm breath caresses my ear, sending shivers through me.

I stare at him for a moment, weighing my options. I know the rules here, but then again, does he?

I want to say no, to push him away and run for the exit.

But I’m trapped, a rabbit cornered with a wolf at my heels. I can’t afford to make any sudden moves. Not yet.

But I don’t have time to dance the night away. I have Laina to worry about.

Before I can utter another word and make up some dumb ass excuse, his hand grasps my waist, pulling me out of the chair and against him.

”Oh, I’m not much of a dancer,” I stutter.

“I don’t believe you. Not with hips like those.”

The warmth of tequila is hitting my blood, numbing my nerves and fear. It’s making it easier to be here but lessening my guard. And I find myself enjoying the press of his palm onto the small of my back. Its skin is warm. It’s nice.

He leads me to the center of the clubhouse, where bodies grind and writhe on one another while music thuds in massive speakers overhead.

He spins me around, my back flush against his hard chest. His hand leaves my neck to settle on my waist. Heat crawls up my cheeks and I can’t tell if it was the alcohol or his proximity.

He guides my hips to his as he starts to move us both, grinding against me. My head falls back onto his chest, resting there.

---