Page 89 of The Devil's Scars

“What,” she sputtered now, choking on her pop. “What the hell?”

“No need to wait, Zee,” Drake said, turning to give her the equally-delectable back view. Dux did too, and she blinked at the amazing fact that the twins had identical perfect asses. “Feast your gorgeous eyes now.”

“Ohhh-kaaaay. What’d I miss?”

Scars wandered back over, taking in the shirtless twins, even as the bar patrons erupted into whistles and cat-calls. Several women looked seconds away from either fanning themselves, or flinging themselves at Dux and Drake. Unperturbed, Scars grinned at Zoe. “You window-shopping, baby?”

“Can you blame me?” she said with an elegant little shrug and a sassy toss of her head. “Double my fun.”

“You know it,” Dux told her, holding her eyes. “You ever up for a party of three, Zee, you let me and Drake know. It’s a whole new world, let me tell you.”

She looked up at them, wondering if he meant what she thought he meant, and Scars put his arm around her.

“Stop hitting on my girl,” he growled. “And anyway, she’s too much woman for you guys, either individually or together.”

Zoe had just registered that yes, actually, Dux had meant what she’d thought he’d meant, when Scars kissed her cheek. She turned her eyes up to him, saw that he looked a bit excited.

“Baby, I’ve got to go out of town tomorrow,” he told her, picking up his beer. “Just one day and one night, alright?”

“Sure. Is everything OK?”

“Everything’s great,” Scars said, watching the other guys move off to flirt with a few eager women. Unsurprisingly, the twins were getting the bulk of the attention, and Cole had gone back behind the bar, but Wolf and Rebel were definitely attracting groups of admirers. “It’s just an old friend, one that I haven’t seen in a while, and he needs my help.”

Her green eyes clouded with worry. “Help, like ‘an old MC friend in trouble’ kind of thing?”

“Nah, beautiful. This is really and truly about a high-school friend, not an MC friend. John has never even been on a motorcycle, I swear. I think he’d scream like a four-year-old girl if he ever had to get on one, to be honest. He’s an IT guy. Favorite color is beige. Or maybe gray.”

She relaxed then, started breathing a bit better. “OK. Then I won’t worry.”

“Never worry,” he said, his hand on her lower back, caressing and supporting her. “I keep nothing that’s potentially dangerous from you, Zoe, not one damn thing that puts me at risk, or might get me hurt. That’s the deal between us, and it goes both ways. Right?”

“Right.”

“Now.” Deliberately, Scars set his beer on the bar, took her glass out of her hand and put it on the bar too. “I know it hasn’t been even close to an hour, but I truly do not give a crap. We’re going to the back room, and we’re going now, baby.”

She laughed. “Scars! It’s barely been ten minutes!”

“And I just said that I don’t give a crap.” His blue eyes blazed down at her, and right away, her thighs tensed. Ohhh, boy, she knew that look. It was the one that he gave her when he was inside her writhing body, stroking her deep and hard with that incredible cock, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, one perfectly-executed thrust at a time. “You going to make me say it again, or are you going to be a good girl and get that sexy ass ass where I want it?”

“I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He helped her to her feet, kissed her blonde curls. “Now, listen up, baby. You got three minutes to get into the back room from the first night, and get stripped down to nothing but black silk and lace. Then you get on your hands and knees. Back arched. Eyes closed. And you hold that position until I get there.”

Her breath stopped; her pussy opened; her nipples hardened. He saw what his words had done to her, and he smiled again, his dark, dangerous smile. The one that meant that he was up to the best kind of no-good.

“Not one word when I walk in the door, Zoe. Not one. You just stay like that, on all fours, back arched, eyes closed, and you wait for me to touch you. If you move or talk or open your eyes, I don’t touch you at all. I walk right on out again, and you stay there and wait. And no matter what happens, no matter what I do to you, you don’t break position. Understood?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her throat thick with desire. “Understood.”

“Go on then,” he said, giving her a tiny tap on her jeaned butt. “Three minutes. Your time starts now. Go.”

She was ready in less than two minutes. And she came hard two minutes later, trembling and crying out incoherently, Scars teasing her swollen, heated center from behind with three fingers and his tongue… and like the good girl that she wanted so desperately to be for him, just for him, Zoe held position the whole time.

Each time. All four times.

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