Page 32 of Shockproof

“Double it.”

Another stunned expression appears.

“And then get me the fuckin’ receipt fromthisorder, McPherson.” My head tilts to one side in a menacing nature. “Your lifefuckin’ depends on it.”

Chapter 6

Slater

I thought I knew torture.

I really did.

I thought it involved shit like jumper cables and a bucket of ice-cold water and being dangled from the ceiling like fresh meat in a freezer.

But here I stand.

Corrected.

It turns out that watching my woman in a teeny, tiny blue jean mini skirt with her tits pouring out of a too tight white tank top bend over this bar, desperate to get another man’s attention, takes the shit to a whole new level.

This is the very definition of torture.

We’re talking look up the word.

See this moment.

This moment I would like to rip up into a million fucking pieces and never experience again.

“No matter how hard you stare at my ass in this skirt, it’s not coming off anytime soon, babe.” Arley tosses me a sassy smirk over her shoulder. “And as hard as this damn thing was to get on, onceit,along with these fucking boots come off, guess what? They’restayingoff.”

“Fair,” I state on a crooked grin and lean in closer, “however-”

“Ohhhh…” she swivels her frame my direction, “such a fancy but for such a non-fancy place.”

“However,while I had to stand by and watch you put all this shit on, Iwill notsimply stand by and watch you take all this shit off.”

Thrill instantly arises in her gaze.

“And just to be clear,” yanking her downward by the beltloop hitches her breath, “I’mnot askin’, Angel Cake.” Her lips twitch in what I imagine to be debate prompting my mouth to feather hers, “And I damn sure ain’t arguin’.”

Rather than wait for a verbal reply, I let my tongue slip inside and steal it straight off hers. The first sweep isn’t sweet. Or soft. Or even the loving shit I should be doing in public. No. It’s rough and short, the exact opposite of the ones that follow, which are all coated in so much feral frustration that she doesn’t know whether to moan or whimper, push me away or grab the lapels of my flannel for leverage.

“Could you two stop that?” Blu unexpectedly interrupts, voice severing our locked lips. “That’swhat’s scaring away the fucking bartender.”

“Heisavoiding this section, right?!” Arley squeaks, figure still leaning into my hold as it shifts from the loops of her skirt to possessively resting on her hip. “It’s not just me?”

“Oh, no, it’sdefinitelyjust you,” my second in command pokes between chuckles, “but that’s because Wahl is using the force of his ancient Jedi ancestors to Luke Skywalker his ass away from you, Princess Leia.”

Arley cocks her head in confusion. “Weren’t they brother and sister?”

Lifting my practically full beer occurs at the same time I state, “We all know if I were to be anyone in that universe, I’d be fuckin’ Han Solo.”

“Which makes sense since Blu is basically a hairless Wookiee.”

“Ohmygod,he’s totally made that sound during sex!” Aviva giggles over her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Hey!”

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