Biker's Bride (Demons MC)

Before I could answer, another person loomed huge in our peripheral.

“Who the fuck—” Tadd started, and then caught himself. I looked up, and Rex was smiling down at me.

“Hey, Rex, what’s up man,” Tadd said, and laughed nervously. Rex looked at him with an easy smile.

“Are you bothering this lady, Tadd?” He was wearing another black T-shirt and cutoff jeans, and I had the feeling he hadn’t changed. His body was still ripped and bristling, but he had a new red mark on his eyebrow, like he’d been punched. I ran my eyes over his ripped chest and abs, and lingered over his tattoos. He was like a beacon in that grimy place, dangerous and wild but not dirty or grungy like the others.

“No, man, we’re just talking,” Tadd said, backing off and putting his hands up. Rex looked at me.

“Are you guys just talking?” he asked.

I shook my head no, but was too afraid to speak.

Rex looked back at Tadd. “Fuck off now, Tadd. Talk to this girl again, and I will hurt you. Understand?”

“Yeah, man, sorry, I’ll get outta here,” Tadd said. He stood and walked away fast, rejoining his two friends at a table across the room. I could see them talking together and throwing scared looks in our direction.

I turned back as Rex sat down on the empty stool.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said, half joking.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Not one for small talk then, I guessed. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look very happy to see me, either.

“Just having a drink,” I said, feeling lame.

“Why this bar?”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I shrugged. He let out a deep sigh, caught the bartender’s eye, and ordered a beer.

“This place isn’t for people like you,” he said quietly. I arched my eyebrow and wondered what that was supposed to mean.

“You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t know you. But I know your type. Pretty, blonde, rich. If you’re out slumming it for a night, I suggest finding somewhere a little safer. I won’t be around to chase off men like Tadd forever.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, he was insulting me, though in a strange, backhanded way. Maybe I did grow up rich, and maybe I was blonde, but I wasn’t a spoiled little brat like Marissa. I wasn’t out to slum it, either. I was there for him, and him alone, but I couldn’t say that. Although, he did seem genuinely worried about my safety, which was a good sign. Maybe a little old fashioned, but at least he seemed to be a decent guy to women.

“You don’t need to protect me, I can handle myself.”

He laughed. “You were doing a great job with Tadd there.”

I made an angry face. “I would have been fine if you hadn’t barged in.”

The humor left his face and he looked at me soberly. “Look, guys like Tadd are dangerous. Leave it alone.”

We were silent for a second. “I’m not spoiled,” I said.

He grinned at me. “I didn’t say you were. I said rich, not spoiled.”

“It’s what you meant though,” I said, getting angry.

He laughed. “Got a little temper on you?”

His deep green eyes piercing into mine diffused my mood, and I turned back to my drink.

“Only with assholes like you,” I muttered.

He looked mock offended. “I’m an asshole, huh? Maybe I should leave you here, let you fend for yourself.”

I looked at him and panicked for a second. He laughed again.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” he said. “I’ve got nowhere to be for a while.”

I nodded and sipped my drink. I felt relieved and excited, although he wasn’t exactly acting like he wanted to be around me. He was more ambivalent at best. We sat in silence for a minute, and I could see him scanning the crowd. He nodded at a few people, and they nodded back. I realized he knew almost everyone in the room, but he was purposefully sitting with me. That gave me some hope, although I was starting to wonder what I originally had seen in him. He was turning out to be a bigger prick than I had imagined.

“You said you worked here,” I said, breaking the silence.

He grunted in response.

“What do you do?” I pressed.

He looked at me. I caught him run his eyes along my body, and I felt a thrill pass through me. I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to imagine me without my clothes, imagine what he’d do to me if he had the chance. I certainly was imagining him, his strong, lean muscular arms wrapped around my hips, his full lips against mine. I realized how hot I was getting, and ordered another drink.

“It’s complicated,” he replied after the bartender came back with another whiskey and Coke.