Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Grinder
The hotel bar is not my usual kind of go-to, but a night away from the club, somewhere no one would come looking, was what had lured me into the overpriced joint.
The carpet was clean, not stained and sticky. The bar top, polished within an inch of its life. The vast array of liquor bottles against the mirrored back is spotless. There was not a speck of dust in sight. Not that I cared much, as long as the bartender kept the bourbon flowing.
I’ve pretty much blocked out the surrounding noise. The hum of people’s chatter, the clink of glass, even the drone of the music being played. Some popular chick bands, I believe. Not my taste. Not enough driving rhythm, squealing electric guitar or thrashing drumbeat.
The Gio and Royal drama is still heavy on my mind, but as I chug back my fifth bourbon, the liquor is helping to take the edge off my raging temper.
I still want to grab Royal by the throat and beat the living daylights out of him.
I can’t get rid of the image of them both together, fucking, even though it’s a far cry from how I want to envision my little sister.
It turns my fucking stomach, making the bourbon unsettled in my gut.
What I don’t get is how my best friend has gone from seeing her as a snotty kid with pigtails who had been the bane of our life, constantly pestered us to let her tag along, to now.
Having inappropriate feelings for her. Sure, she’s grown up, filled out.
Even as her brother, I can admit what a beautiful woman she’s turned into, but he’s always been like part of the family. I just don’t get it.
God knows what his brother would have thought. Then again, if he’d still been here, would I ever have gotten so close to Royal? It was our mutual grief that had bonded us together until he became an integral part of my family. I can’t for the life of me imagine it being any other way.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble, the pain of his disloyalty hitting me. “Why did you do that?”
With my forearms resting on the bar, I drop my head forward and close my eyes.
“Are you talking to me?”
Head still down low, I turn my head to face the direction of the voice. The voice that had broken through my bubble of silence that I’d managed to create.
The last thing I want is to talk shit with anyone because, quite frankly, I don’t give a damn about the fucking weather or what the government is up to.
I have enough of my own shit to contend with.
Yet, I find myself drawn towards the sweet but confident voice, which is laced with a hint of annoyance.
There’s a smidgen of an accent too, that I can’t quite place, but it’s definitely not local.
When I take her in, I’m met with eyes of the purest green that pop against olive skin. Hair long, almost black hair, with an abundance of curls. Plump lips the color of expensive wine that hold an expression that contradicts the softness of her features.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” With one brow raised; her pretty mouth takes on a harder line, making the blood rush straight to my dick.
Fuck, she’s not only as hot as hell, she’s feisty too, and that is so fucking sexy.
I straighten up, take a breath and get a grip of myself — well, sort of.
“Hey, no.” I mumble like a kid who’s just remembered he has a dick and what effect a pretty chick can have on it. “I was talking to myself.”
“Ahh, you know what they say about that, don’t you?” she catches the eye of the bartender. “Rum, neat on the rocks.”
“What do they say?” I ask knowing exactly what she’s about to say, but for some strange reason, against my previous need to be left alone, I want to keep her right here.
And the only way to do that, barring handcuffing her to the chair, is to keep her talking.
Her voice is pure elixir and has an effect that’s new to me.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.” Fumbling in her purse, she takes out a ten-dollar bill, holding it between glossy painted fingernails, and presents it to the bartender.
“I’ll get that,” I wave him away from taking her money. “Add it to my tab.”
“Certainly, sir,” he acknowledges before moving away to serve someone further down the bar.
“So, what’s the second sign?” I watch as she places her pretty lips to the glass and takes a sip of the amber liquid.
“Oh, that’s answering yourself. When you get to that level, it’s time to book in with a shrink, kinda shit.”
I can’t help but laugh, and to be honest, it feels good. The distraction, it feels real good.
“You have a tab running.” She lifts the glass to her mouth again, this time brushing the smooth edge against her bottom lip. “You planning on getting drunk?”
“You care to join me?” I counter. Her response is a slight tilt of her head, a narrowing of her eyes as if weighing up the options. Another sip of rum and she comes back at me.
“Do you make a habit of it? Getting drunk, that is?”
“Would it bother you if I did?”
She flings back her head, and a deep rumble of a laugh fills the air. Far deeper than what you expect from such a sweet lyrical voice.
“Tell me, do you always answer a question with another question?
“Is that a sign of madness too?” I respond this time, keeping my face stoic.
She stares at me for a beat, her expression mimicking mine, then a smile cracks across her face and once again, her head tilts back and she lets out that crazy laugh.
This time for longer, giving me the perfect view of her beautiful neck.
The urge to put my mouth against the soft skin right where I would feel the jumping of her pulse against my tongue makes me hard. I blink away the notion.
“Do you come here often?” she suddenly asks, a smile still playing on her lips.
“Jesus, is that your best chat-up line?” I snigger back, because this girl is witty, sort of cool, not to forget sexy and so damn beautiful. She certainly has my full attention.
Still laughing, she picks up her drink and knocks back what’s left in the glass before placing it back on top of the bar, then slides off the stool, getting to her feet.
“Hey, where are you going?” I ask quickly, catching hold of her arm, not wanting her to leave.
I’m enjoying the interaction between the two of us, which has taken me by surprise.
It’s been a long time since I came upon a woman that I regarded as anything other than an option to get my nut sack emptied.
Conversation wasn’t a requirement. But when it comes to her, it’s different.
I’m intrigued. I want to get to know more about her.
“Hey, enough.” Her hand comes over mine, and she slides it from her arm.
“Stop the question thing, funny at first, but the joke’s getting a little stale.
” I hit her with a questioning stare. “Not that it’s any of your business where I’m going, but if you must know, I’m hitting the bathroom, so unless you want me to disgrace myself in front of everyone here in the bar? ”
“Are you coming back?” I sound desperate. Funny thing is, I don’t want to let her go, but rather than looking like a complete psycho, I do.
“Again, with the questions,” she throws her arms out dramatically, but she’s smiling too. “You going to rack me up another drink?
“Will a double do it?” I laugh back.
“Then, in the great words of Arnie, ‘I’ll be back.” She shoots a finger at me then turns to walk toward the bathroom.
I take the chance to watch the way she moves.
The swing of her hips, the gentle bounce of her ass cheeks under the fabric of her fitted jeans, the lines of her lush body.
She’s a curvy girl and, fuck, she’s absolute perfection.
I open my eyes only to slam them shut again; the brightness of the sunlight is like a hammer to my head. Turning my head away from the window, I tentatively lift open one eye to survey my surroundings, because at this precise moment, I have no fucking idea where I am.
The pain in my head rears up again, but not quite as bad, so I push myself up onto my ass and swing my legs over the side of the bed I find myself in.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that I’m in a hotel room, alone.
But the two used glasses sitting on top of the dresser, the upturned champagne bottle stuffed into an ice bucket, tells me that at some point, I hadn’t been the only one here ruffling up the bed sheets.
Images flash in my head. Leaving the clubhouse after learning about Royal and Gio.
Checking in at the uptown hotel that charges way over the odds per night.
The bar, the bourbon, the beautiful woman that had me under her spell.
I rack my brain for more details. We’d drunk too much, that I do recall, but did she come back to my room?
Is that sex I smell in the air, or just my wishful thinking?
I get to my feet, head spinning as I frantically tread my way to the bathroom.
The urgency partly in hope that the woman is still here, freshening up.
The other is, my bladder is going to burst if I don’t take a piss real soon.
A pang of disappointment hits me when I find the room empty, but I let out a sigh of relief when I relieve myself.
Standing in the doorway of the bathroom looking back out into the bedroom, I look for further signs of what could have gone down.
It looks like any other hotel room that’s been slept in.
No condom wrappers, no used ones either, and I’m pretty sure that even in a drunken haze, I wouldn’t forget to bag up before sticking my dick into any hole.
Even one as sexy as … “Fuck,” I grumble to myself.
“I didn’t even get her fucking name.” I do remember that we spent a few hours together, drinking, laughing.
The flirting was off the charts hot, but her name?
If she had told me, I can’t remember for the life of me.
“I need a fucking shower,” I tell myself.
A smile cracks my face, a deep rumble of a laugh bursts from my mouth, and I quickly hold a hand to temple to try to curb the hammering when our conversation about talking to oneself comes flooding back.
“Crazy fucker,” I chuckle, stepping into the shower, turning the temperature cold and the faucet on full.
Half an hour later, dressed, clearer headed, thanks to the couple of Tylenol that I found in my jeans pocket, a quick jerk off and I’m checking out, with a plan to take a quick stop at a local diner for breakfast, then back to the clubhouse.
When it comes down to it, Gio is family, and so are the Saint’s and as long as Royal’s serious about my sister, then I’m just going to have to suck it up and take it for what it is.
When all’s said and done, I know Royal. My sister is no longer a child, so if she’s going to be involved with a man, then there are a lot of less desirable fuckers out there that she could get involved with.
Caal for example. When it comes to it, if it’s a question of loyalty, respect and honor, there’s no better man than my best friend.