Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)

“Fuck you.”

Against his better judgment, he pulled a domestic from the cooler and set it on the table next to the couch. But Hawk was persistent.

“It’s that chick,” Hawk said, “isn’t it?”

“What chick?” Saks said, with as much disinterest as he could muster.

“That blonde at the hospital.”

“Was there a blonde?”

Hawk snorted. “I’ve never seen you grin, until today, when that woman showed up at the elevator.”

“What are you talking about? I smile all the time.”

“Bro, you make Spock look emo.”

Saks scoffed. Hawk’s charms were fast wearing thin, especially since Saks was on edge waiting for Chrissy to show.

For a woman who had flown seven hours on an intercontinental flight, she’d looked hot. Dressed in a very business-professional gray suit with a scoop-neck cream shirt, she’d appeared every inch the librarian type. But her shapely legs in black hose and black spike heels were definitely not that. An image of Chrissy’s legs wrapped around his waist made him grip the broom handle tight enough to make his knuckles turn white.

In his dirty flash fantasy, he tore open the crotch of her hose and buried his face in her sweetness, lapping her cream, and breathing in her sexy musk. And just as it had done all day, his cock twitched. It grew hard as he imagined her head tossing, and her fingers curling in ecstasy around his bedpost while she called his name.

A sharp rap on the door snapped Saks out of his reverie.

“I’ll get it,” Hawk said as he pushed off the couch with a groan

Good. The kid should do something other than sitting around on his ass.

Saks put away the broom and the dustpan in the closet in the step-up alcove recessed from the main bar. Here, painted on the furthest wall, was the logo for the Hades Spawn with was a skull with wings. Two pool tables sat here, tables he’d taken to keep himself occupied while he waited for his life to straighten out.

It was taking a long fucking time.

“Well, hello,” Hawk greeted in an overly-solicitous voice.

“Is Saks here?” a woman queried.

His heart raced in his chest. Chrissy. Damn, she came.

“Yeah. He’s in the pool corner.”

“Where’s that?”

“That way, darling.”

Chrissy’s heels clicked on the laminate flooring. Quickly Saks whipped a cue off the wall in an attempt to act nonchalant, and pulled the triangle off a rack of balls.

“Hey,” she said, looking up from beside the bar.

“Hi,” he said. Saks smiled when he saw her, and he realized that Hawk was right. He did grin like a fool when she was around.

“Playing pool?”

He shrugged. Like a teenager speaking to a girl for the first time, he got tongue-tied.

“Can a girl get a drink around here?” She smiled, and he melted. What he would give to wrap his arms around her right now.

“Is that all you Serafini say?” he said with a grin.