Screw Me Sideways

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and they hurriedly left the limousine.

“Kellan, wait. I—” She took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

He stopped. “No. I’m wrong. This is exactly where you need to be. We can keep an eye on you.” Forcing a smile, he added, “Besides, you really do look stunning. I’m just an ass who wanted to keep you to myself. It’s your twenty-first birthday.” He winked. “What kind of lover would I be if I asked you to sit at home on your birthday?”

“Is that what we are, Kellan?”

“Whatever we are, we need time to figure it out. I can’t do that if you’re not nearby to remind me how lucky I am. Right?” Pulling her against his rigid body, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Let me call Kane. Don’t leave the club. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

* * * *

“Anybody have any idea what the pastel wristbands are for?” A pretty redhead leaned over the bar with her hands clasped in front of her. She moistened her lips and eyed Kellan’s cock like she’d either had a hold of it at some point or planned to grab a good grip later that same evening.

Reason observed. Kellan wasn’t giving her the time of day.

“See the bouncers,” Kellan replied, barely looking at her.

“What are they for?” She was persistent.

Kellan set up twelve glasses in front of him and showed off like a good bartender might. He mixed up Long Island Iced Teas and Singapore Slings. Concentrating for a second, he focused on the bottles in front of him before calling out, “We’re running low on gin and triple sec!”

“Gotcha,” Elliott said in passing, heading to the stockroom.

The bar was packed. The line outside was on a two-hour, no-promises wait.

“Hello?” The gal waved her hand in front of Kellan’s face. “Seeking information over here.”

Kellan, not always the most patient Clink employee, finally glanced up and said. “They’re color-coded like …” His voice trailed and he scanned the club before nodding at Reason, signaling him to find Jade, no doubt.

“It’s not that tough to answer a simple question. It’s not like I’m offering to blow you behind the dumpsters.”

Kellan worked on the cocktail order and glanced up long enough to paste on a smile. “Mint green signifies you’re looking for a play partner and light pink, or maybe it’s yellow, means you’re hoping to find someone who is a suitable fit for a lasting relationship.”

“Really? So people actually come here to find lasting commitments?”

“Guess so.”

She laughed. “And here I was told the bartenders could dish up saucy comebacks with every drink they serve cold.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kellan said, scooping ice in the glasses and studying her with a more intense look. “Wait a minute. I know you. You’re the gal from the city.”

“That’s right,” she said. “We met a few weeks before your club was hit.”

He balked at that. “Hit is not exactly the word for it.”

“Shame, wasn’t it?” She moistened her lips and stared at his.

Reason tried to gauge where the conversation was heading. “Can I get you a drink?” He wiped down the bar and offered to grab her something since Kellan was working on a server’s order.

“No, I’m just with here with a message.”

As soon as she said “message” Kellan’s body went rigid and Reason’s mind traveled to the last time he’d heard a similar warning. It was right after Sarsarone’s guys had shot up the club the first time.

“No need to go for your weapons, boys,” she purred. “I’m not on Hank’s payroll.”

“What do you want?” Kellan asked. He could take her apart regardless of who signed her checks.

“Who are you?” Reason asked.