Page 30 of Property of Thrasher
His gaze dropped, slow, like he was measuring me from top to bottom. When his eyes returned back to mine, they were darker. “Only one way to be helpful around here, darlin’. Spread your legs or leave. Unless you plan on joinin’ us or takin’ her place in my bed tonight…,” he tilted his head to the woman clinging to him. “Watch where the fuck you’re headed.”
My jaw dropped but before I could say anything, his play thing smirked.
“She couldn’t handle me, Thrasher, much less your big cock.”
Heat flared in my chest. Sharp and reckless, I couldn’t stop my reaction. “Or maybe you just couldn’t handle me, bitch.”
The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly—the ghost of a smirk—and my stomach dropped in a way that scared me more than his growl.
I stepped back, the tray still clutched to my chest, and disappeared into the crowd. My pulse was pounding, my cheeks were hot. I told myself it was fear, but that wasn’t the truth. No, I was turned on like I had never been before.
Walking away while trying not to look like I was running, I found Lyric near the back talking animatedly with a group of women. She had embraced this club bunny life as she called it. Her hair was loose, her smile easy. Tiny approached and she leaned into him like she belonged in the crook of his arm. I decided not to interrupt. I watched long enough to see her laugh at something one of the women said before I turned to get away.
It should have been enough to settle me. She was fine, safe even. I could leave. Except my feet wouldn’t take me to the door. No, they somehow kept landing me back into his line of sight.
Thrasher—the man whose real name I didn’t know—seemed to be everywhere at once. Leaning against the bar, head bent chatting with another brother. Standing in the corner, smoke curling from the cigar at his lips. Our eyes caught twice more that night.
Too long did we both hold one another’s gaze each time.
I had overheard pieces about him in passing from the ladies at work and the guys around here tonight.
Apparently, Thrasher, the Kings of Anarchy South Carolina president had quite a reputation.
One for violence.
Some of the things I had learned. He busted a guy’s jaw in three places for bringing his daughter home late and with a bruise on her arm. He didn’t lose a fight ever. He could be mean as a snake when he’s in a mood and it didn’t matter who you were. Even when his mom called at the wrong time no one was immune to his wrath.
Nothing about him should have made me want a second glance or to be tied up in this man.
Yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. This odd pull to him had me curious to know if there was a softer side to the man.
I stepped outside for air. The night was cool and actually quiet compared to the chaos inside. My ears were still ringing from the music. I told myself I would stay out here five minutes, then find Lyric, say goodnight and go home.
But when I went back inside, it was like stepping into a warmth, a heat of attraction. It wasn’t from the air, it was from him. He was at the far edge of the crowd and the second I crossed the threshold back into his world, his eyes were on me. Our gazes locked and it felt like I had been stripped bare and set on fire from the inside without a single touch.
Deciding I couldn’t withstand the inferno blazing between us, I moved fast cutting toward the side of the room where a group of the ladies from work were dancing. If I lost myself in the crowd maybe I’d stop feeling like I was about to take a leap off a cliff. Even here immersed with bodies pressing in all around me, I could feel him.
Every instinct in my brain said stay away from him. But my body couldn’t seem to get in alignment with this idea. In fact, down to my belly there was a voice telling me go closer.
I kept moving.
That was my trick to survival. Never stay still long enough to be caught. It wasn’t easy. The whole room was noise and motion. I was moving against it. The plan was simple, say my goodbyes and leave.
I was halfway back to the bar to tell Jonesy I was going to head to the hotel and let Lyric know when I noticed him shifting. No, he wasn’t simply moving through the crowd. This was a deliberate push from the wall, rolling back of his broad shoulders, eyes pinned to me predator locking onto his prey moment.
My pulse jumped.
I tried to cut to the side, but I had nowhere to go. Two steps later, he was right in front of me.
Close.
As in my personal space close.
He smelled of cedar and sandalwood, all man and musk. My hands trembled but I clutched them together to hide the way he rattled me.
“You’re still here,” he stated.
“If you can see me, which clearly you can, I am indeed.” The words came out sharper than I wanted, but this was me. I always got in trouble for being sassy.
