Page 5 of War's Witch
Chapter
Three
CLEO
Music pumps from the speakers. Drinks are flowing, and everyone is having a good time. The club girls dance around the men with their barely there costumes, dressed up or down, I should say, for the night, and most of the men are loving it.
The neon lights flicker across the walls, catching on the sequins from costumes and the wide grins of the happy people in the room. Laughter ripples through the air mixed with the music, while the familiar scent of whiskey and sweat weaves its way through the crowded room.
Bottles clink, voices rise, and the beat of the bass from the music settles into my bones—thumping, electric, alive, and unrestrained.
I am loving life, being free and feeling safe.
Brothers are at the bar, already buzzed, their laughter booming above the bass. Locke stands nearby, his gaze focused as he watches Lottie spin and twirl with us.
There’s a feeling of safety here, of being allowed to be whoyou are and not made to feel fear or being uncomfortable, locking away the world outside the club’s walls where no one can touch us.
My feet ache, my body buzzed and warm from the cocktails we are drinking. Yet, I would not change it for the world.
Friends can be family, and here right now, I am surrounded by my girls who are my family without a shadow of a doubt.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and not for the first time tonight, but I can never seem to locate who is watching me.
Needing to rest my feet, I slide onto a worn leather stool, the coolness of it making me shiver. I smile at the two men sitting on stools next to me, who I have to say, look like they stepped out of a biker magazine or one of the romance covers from the books that Harley writes.
“You having fun, baby?” the one with dark hair and eyes asks, then takes a pull from his beer.
Shifting my body so I can look at them better, I take them in and damn, they are hot. Night and day by the coloring of their hair and eyes.
“I am. The club sure knows how to throw a party, like most MCs.”
The dark haired one cocks an eyebrow. “You know another MC?”
“I do,” is all I say.
They look at me with an expression I cannot read, but I shrug and look around the room.
I spot a man leaning against the back wall talking with Smoke, and Tote, who I know is the club’s president. My body freezes and my breathing halts in my lungs.
My gaze scans his body, taking in his dark hair that seems to be shorter on the sides, longer on top. I can’t see the color of his eyes from across the room but they feel intense as they lookback at me. I lick my lips, taking in his plump ones; God, I could suck on them all day.
A trimmed beard covers his jaw, and I bet that would feel so good between my thighs. I clench said thighs, watching the corner of his lips twitch into a smirk.Damn, that is sexy.
He is dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, with the arms tied around his waist, and a white tank covering his upper body, giving me a full view of his tattooed arms and the ink that slides up his neck.
“That is War. A nomad.”
“Nomad?” I edge.
“It means that he travels around the country, not staying in any one location, or club, so to speak. He lives his life on the open road. A fucking dream when you need to clear your head, and there was a time when War needed to clear his head from all the fucked-up shit he went through but that, baby, is his story to tell.”
I nod and look back to the man I now know is called War, and he is still looking at me. My skin feels alive with his eyes on me, my breasts become heavy, and my nipples needy.
This man seems to draw me in. His gaze through his dark glasses pierces right into my soul. I can feel a pull toward him.
I knew that tonight would be one filled with wonder and sexual tension. It was in my stars that I would meet a person who would leave their mark on me, and I feel it deep that this man, War, will be that person.
“He will fuck you and leave you, honey. War is not a man to settle down. He has wounds that he never lets heal, and he likes it that way.”
