Dirty Girl (Going All the Way 2)

Prep fell to the floor, but he only moved back a few steps and tried to suck in air. Booshie took a step back, rolled his head around on his neck, and then cracked his knuckles. She could tell he was the type of man who didn’t just walk away from an altercation, but then again, he was a Vicious Bastard, and their reputations were hardcore.

When he turned and looked at her, she was stunned speechless and couldn’t even move. But Booshie had been right—the guy was stupid, because he charged and threw a sucker punch in Booshie’s side.

Even from where she stood, she could tell that when the guy hit Booshie, it was like slamming his fist into a concrete wall. And then it was like all hell broke loose as Booshie punched the guy right in the face. Prep’s head cocked to the side, and he fell backward and slid across the floor like he’d been hit with a wrecking ball. Blood instantly spilled from his nose and mouth.

The electricity in the room became charged, and the hairs on her arms stood on end.

“Holy fucking hell, girl.”

She looked at Bennie, not knowing what to say, but feeling this rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She nodded after Bennie spoke and then looked at the scene in front of her again. Booshie stormed over to Prep again, bent down so he could haul the guy up by the neck, and punched him again. Blood covered the younger guy’s lower face and his pale-yellow polo.

But then another biker came up, Tank, one she knew was sergeant at arms for the Vicious Bastards, and hauled Booshie back. He said something to the other man, low and fast, but Booshie still had his eyes on the guy he had beaten the hell out of. More preppy college kids came up and helped their friend off the floor, but at least they were smart enough to leave.

“Damn, I swear there is always some shit that happens,” Ryan said from behind them.

Naggie couldn’t move as she kept her gaze on Booshie. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen her fair share of bar brawls, but this had been something different. She actually felt like Booshie hadn’t just been helping her out, but he had been protecting her in a way mere strangers didn’t really do for each other.

But she supposed it wasn’t like they were really strangers at all, or maybe it was just this weird feeling inside her, because she wanted him in a bad way. And by “in a bad way,” she meant she wanted him to fuck the hell out of her.

He turned away from Tank and slowly moved toward her. He was all muscle, corded and hard, and tensing right below his golden, hard skin. When he was right in front of her, it seemed like the music came blasting back into her, and the voices in the room grew to a normal pitch. The scent of leather, cologne, and even a hint of motor oil from his Harley filled her nose and actually made her wet.

A look around his wide shoulders showed everyone had gone back to what they’d been doing. At least they were smart in that respect. Damn, she had never seen a man wear a pair of jeans, dark T-shirt, or leather biker vest as well as Booshie did.

“Shit, you’re cut.”

His deep voice had her lifting her gaze back to his face, but his focus was on her hand. She looked down, saw that she did have a small cut on the side of her palm, and reached for a napkin. “Damn, I didn’t even realize.” The cut was tiny, but with so much blood smeared on her hand, it looked worse than it was. “It’s okay though.” She lifted her gaze back to his face and saw he was watching her intently.

“You want me to call your boyfriend? He can come get you if you and your friend are too drunk to drive home.” He looked over her shoulder at Bennie.

“Um.” She waited until he looked back at her. “No more boyfriend.” God, she sounded all breathy and excited at that prospect, and how bad was that?

He didn’t say anything for several seconds, and when he did speak, his voice was all deep and husky. “Is that right?” He lowered his gaze to her breasts, and dammit she felt her nipples tighten as if he were actually reaching out and touching her.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said, but didn’t realize she had actually spoken until the words were already out. She had just broken it off with Rob—that lying, cheating son-of-a-bitch—but regardless, jumping into bed with the man she had been trying not to lust after was wrong on a lot of levels.

But Naggie had never been one to live life by the book. She couldn’t, because of the crappy upbringing she had endured. But this was Booshie, a badass motherfucker from the Vicious Bastards MC, and right now, she was pretty sure he was eye-fucking the hell out of her.