Page 10 of Butcher

I shot a look over my shoulder at the group of women. “You going for all four?”

He seemed to consider the question. “Why choose?”

Toxic loved to fuck. Hell, so did I. But lately the appeal has been wearing off. Same with drinking. I still drank of course, because otherwise it was fucking impossible to stifle the urges inside of me. But I hadn’t fucked a woman in months. It was just too goddamn boring. And the women always got clingy. I thought the choking and smothering would send a hint, but it always backfired on me. They seemed to love it.

But this woman had been invading my thoughts all day. And now here she was sitting at our bar. It was like she’d been delivered like a fucking gift. I didn’t believe in God, heaven, or any of that shit, but someone was watching out for me tonight.

This was as good a time as any to break that dry streak. My cock twitched inside my jeans as my eyes roamed over her body. She wasn’t tiny and thin. She was tall and had an athletic body. There were curves in all the places there should be, but her arms were toned and sexy. I shoved out of my chair, grabbing the bottle, and headed in her direction.

“Yeah, okay!” Toxic called out. “See you later. Dick.”

I chuckled at him, but didn’t respond. My focus was zeroed in on the blonde. After that disappointing kill earlier today, and the unsettled feeling plaguing me, she was going to be the perfect distraction.

CHAPTER 4

Manta

Ismiled into my glass as I took a drink. Men. They were just too easy. I watched Butcher from the corner of my eye as I sipped on my drink. He was heading this way.

A bottle of Jack Daniels hit the counter hard enough to rattle the glass I’d placed back on the bar top. I turned my head, arching a brow at him.

“What’s your name?” he grunted.

A slow smile formed. I wanted to tease him for his lack of charm, but damn, I could see where the caveman routine would work on women. It almost worked for me. Of course, I was going to let himthinkit worked for me, so he’d take me somewhere…quieter. Couldn’t kill him in the middle of this bar. Especially not with his brothers around.

“Isla,” I replied, then blinked in confusion. I’d just inadvertently given him my real name. Why the hell had I done that? That was rule number two. Never give them any real information about myself.

He sat down on the bar stool to my right, facing me. “Butcher.” He held out his hand.

I stared down at it, still shook that I’d slipped up so badly. What was it about this guy that made me feel so…off kilter? I reached out and shook his hand, gritting my teeth when a zip of pleasure sparked my skin as we touched.

Something’s not right. What the hell is wrong with me?

His hand was huge. Rough. Warm. And I got a flash of both of them roaming over my body. I enjoyed sex as much as any other woman, but usually on my own terms. When I wanted to have an orgasm, I usually found a willing guy, did the deed, and got the hell out of there. No muss, no fuss.

I always started out horny because it’d been too long since the last time. A guy neverinspiredmy horniness. Until now. Maybe I did need to see that doctor after all.

“Nice to meet you,” I told him. Tugging my hand back, I shot him a glare when he didn’t let go. “I should get going.” It was better to abort tonight’s plan than continue moving forward when I was feeling so…volatile.

The plan had been to get him drunk, take him somewhere private, and kill him. But everything inside me was a tangled, jumbled mess just from a damn handshake. I needed to have a serious conversation with myself before I tried this again.

“Why?” he rumbled. He was still holding my hand captive. With his free one he grabbed the bottle of Jack and filled my glass to the rim with more alcohol.

I stared at it, then frowned at him. “I have somewhere to be.”

He arched a brow. “Where?”

Okay. This shouldn’t be doing a damn thing for me, but his deep voice and that penetrating hazel stare of his was working. My panties were damp and all he’d done was grunt one word syllables, for the most part.

What was it about a muscular guy who acted like an animal that was such a turn on? No. I didn’t need to go down that road.

I tugged at my hand again. He just squeezed it tighter, making me gasp at the twinge of pain. He was strong.

“I need to go…just…somewhere“

“Tacos.” It was a statement, not a question.

“What?”

---