Hot as Hades (16 page)

 He seemed flattered, his lips curving into a smile. “Sure thing. Fire away.”

Cowboy said she could be coy as long as she acted respectful. She glanced over Woody’s shoulder and saw him nod to her, letting her know he kept an eye on the situation. Though, he had a very grim expression.

She turned her attention back to Woody. “I love working here, but I got some bills to pay. What if a girl like me wanted to make some
extra
money? Like on the side or something?”

“You can always do lap dances. Some of the girls even sell nudie pictures of themselves to the guys.” He paused, as though considering her question, but continued to pet her. He squeezed her ass, and edged the tips of his fingers into the waistband of her shorts.

 She let him. For now.

“Anything else?”

He gave a rough, dirty chuckle. “One military dude apparently buys worn panties if you are
really
strapped for cash.”

She grinned at him. “Fantastic!” she said, doing her best to be cheerful. “But are there any, you know,
other
opportunities?”

Woody cocked his head to the side. “What kind of work did you have in mind, sweets?’

“Oh anything!” She giggled. “I love my job here and I really enjoy making the men happy, but I only do part of it. Sometimes, they need more, if you know what I mean,” she said, eyes widening. “They need—”

“To fuck you? I can relate.” He shifted in his seat, pushing his erection up against her bottom.
Yuck.
“You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

She licked her lips, porn-star style. “Yes,
very
eager.”

 “You know. There might be other business prospects. There’s this house, a few miles away.”

The whorehouse?!

“Oh?” she asked, running a hand down his chest, trying not to appear too excited.

“It’s nothin’ special, mostly over the border pussy, junkie trash. But all of them are fuckable. A pretty little thing like you would earn some serious bank there.”

 “Really? Where is it?”

That was the fucking million dollar question. She held her breath, hoping he’d spill it.
Please, for the love of God, tell me…

“If you do a good job taking care of me, I’ll share a little more.” He took her hand, pressed it against his crotch. “Show me how much you like cock.”

 Daisy hesitated a second, feeling his erection twitch against her palm. Peering around the biker, she saw Cowboy get to his feet, his eyes blazing with anger. Woody propelled her backwards, off his lap, his hands reaching for the button on her shorts.

She froze. Could she actually do this?

Now faced with the decision, she didn’t know if she could go through with it. Sure, she’d fooled around like crazy in the military, so she didn’t have any issues about screwing around with some random guy she’d just met. It had been empty, meaningless sex, but it had always been
her
choice, mutual satisfaction with men she found attractive.

This time she’d be getting info from Woody and she didn’t feel the slightest attraction to him. Could she screw this guy, in front of an audience no less, in order to get information?

What if other men joined in?

She didn’t know what to do. Woody impatiently undid the zipper of her shorts, and started to shove them down her hips, when Cowboy walked by, beer in hand and sloshed it on Woody’s arm. Deliberately, from what she could tell.

“What the fuck man?” Woody jumped to his feet. He was about a half a foot shorter than Cowboy and not as built, but he pushed at Cowboy’s chest, acting like a tough guy and trying to drive him backward.

“Hey, man. No offense!” Cowboy backed away. “I tripped. It was an accident.”

He had just taken huge risk.

 What if the guy interpreted it as deliberate disrespect? She scanned the room, her frown deepening. Raptors at other tables glanced over, curious. Woody had a room full of backup, if he decided to start some shit. While Cowboy could hold his own, she didn’t see him winning against a twenty or thirty other men, even with her help.

“Let me buy you a couple shots and pay for your shirt to get cleaned,” Cowboy said smoothly as he removed his wallet.

Woody didn’t answer at first and Daisy swallowed thickly.

After what felt like hours, the other biker finally nodded in agreement. “Okay, man.” They both headed to the bar together.

The tension in the room seemed to evaporate and she nearly collapsed in Woody’s vacated chair. Instead, she used the diversion to escape out the back door. She leaned against the wall, sucking in air. She tried to sort through her muddled emotions – relief that Cowboy had intervened, frustrated because she’d just chickened out, and scared. Knee-wobbling scared and
that
tripped her up. She had been in so many dicey situations the last few years; it took a hell of a lot to faze her.

But she hadn’t been worried for herself.

What if something had happened to Cowboy? She’d been terrified the Raptors would jump him and she couldn’t have done anything about it. With those kinds of odds, neither one of them would have made it out of the place alive.

And now, she worried about her own reaction. What did it mean? She usually kept people, particularly men at a distance. Caring meant you could get hurt. Caring always led to pain, and she couldn’t take anymore. She’d had more than her fair share. She shoved the tenderness for him away. She couldn’t afford to be weak, not now.

She glanced up to see Cowboy stalking towards her. She had a feeling she was about to get an earful. They were alone and the raucous music inside would obliterate anything they said.

 He gripped her shoulders. “That was reckless. He could have raped you!”

She slapped his hands away. “He basically admitted they ran a brothel. If I’d gotten him off, he would have given me the information.”

He looked her in the eye. “You might have gotten a lead, but would it be worth the cost? He’d have fucked you in a room full of men wanting to do the same damn thing. What if they’d lined up to use you, could you handle that?”

She shuddered and a wave of guilt rushed over her. “I should have let him. I
almost
got the information we needed.”

 “I see. So, what? You were going to do a little floor show? No big deal?”

“I’ll do what I have to,” she said quietly. He acted like she
wanted
to screw some random biker. “Now, we know for sure there’s a brothel, all we need is a location. When the opportunity presents itself once more, I’ll take it.”

He stared at her, his lip curling.

The silence stretched between them, but she swore to God, she wouldn’t be the first one who spoke. After all,
he’d
been the unreasonable one. She had followed the plan. Her calculated risk had worked out pretty freaking well. Maybe he should give her a little credit?

He slumped against the wall, next to her, crossed his arms over his chest. “You need to be more careful.”

 “I
am
careful, but I can handle myself. I’m not somebody’s wife or girlfriend. There are no damsels here, Cowboy!”

He snorted. “Believe me; I’m very fucking aware you aren’t my wife or girlfriend.” He stood up again, chin jutting, arms crossed over his muscled chest. “Do you think you’re invincible? That you have everything under control and nothing bad could ever happen?”

“Three tours.” She held up three fingers. “You don’t need to tell me bad shit happens. I survived three tours in Afghanistan and I didn’t die, but a lot of people in my unit lost limbs to roadside bombs, or had brain damage from the reverb when IEDs exploded. I know all about consequences.”

She’d managed to skate away with only some low level PTSD.
Big fucking deal.
Sure, she couldn’t sleep at times and she felt like ripping people’s faces off now and then. She’d gotten off light, but she knew others who’d paid a much higher price. Daisy didn’t take that for granted. She knew life could be precarious.

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen my share of crap, too, Wildcat. You can’t predict someone’s actions. Sometimes people surprise the shit out of you, in the worst way possible.”

The haunted expression settled over his features again, the one she’d seen when they’d had breakfast together and she wanted to ask him what the hell had happened to Melissa, but they didn’t have time right now.

They had to stay focused, so she tried to change the subject. “I appreciate the concern, but it isn’t necessary.” Daisy sighed. “I get off in twenty minutes and I’ll lay low until then, I promise. Then, I’m meeting up with suit guy for a drink. I’m going to see what connection he has to the club.”

“You gonna fuck it out of him?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Cowboy.”

He opened his mouth, as though about to say something, then clamped it shut. “You’re right. What you do is none of my damn business. You’ve made that very clear.” With that, he walked away from her and went back inside. She wanted to chase after him, but wouldn’t let herself.

 Daisy settled for slamming her fist into the wall with a curse.

* * *

 After Daisy finished her shift, she didn’t have the chance to speak with Cowboy, because she had to meet with suit guy. Kent had “come to collect her” and she’d followed his Lexus to the Lone Star Winery, an upscale establishment about a half an hour from the club. After they’d arrived, she’d gone to the restroom while he secured a table.

The winery had an outdoor seating area, situated on a rustic patio near a creek, with an impressively beautiful view of a lush vineyard. Dressed in the waitress uniform she’d worn to the strip joint, she felt conspicuously out of place, but he seemed to fit right in with his pinstriped charcoal suit.They took seats on the corner of the patio, near the creek.

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” he mused.

“Yes,” she said, forcing a pleasant smile. The military had trained her to be direct and to the point in these sorts of situations, but the nature of her business at the moment called for a more covert strategy. While meaningless small talk didn’t appeal, she’d go along with it if she got some information.

She noted two men in suits at the table opposite them, both of them nodded to her, and she could see from the slight bulges in their jackets, they carried weapons.

“Private security.” Her nodded to the guards. “They belong to you?”

Andrew smoothed a hand through his dark hair. “Of course. One can never be too careful.”

Private security didn’t come cheap. Though judging by his lavish wardrobe, and designer taste in accessories, he had some serious cash. “They weren’t at the Palace.”

“No, they weren’t,” he said, meeting her eyes.

She waited for him to elaborate.

 “My employers tend to frown on men other than themselves being armed. I texted the guards my destination, shortly after we pulled out.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And who
exactly
employs you?”

“The same men who employ you,” he answered. “The Raptors.”

So, he knew the bar was run by a biker gang, and he worked for the MC as well. “What kind of business are you in?” she asked, studying him carefully.

He changed the subject. “Do you like red or white? Give me a general hint and then I will select the perfect wine for you.”

She sighed. “I like white.” Truthfully, she liked beer, but she said it to placate him. “What do you for a living?” she tried again.

Again, Kent ignored her, perusing the wine list instead.

“What the fuck do you do for the Raptors?” she hissed.

He raised a brow. “I don’t like it when women swear, it’s so low class.”

“Then maybe you should sit at another table,” she replied, making a face.

Kent leaned forward and for a moment, his eyes gleamed with the strangest sort of excitement, which seemed to be oddly sexual. It made her shiver a little, despite the warmth of the evening.

“Hmm, you’re a tough one, aren’t you?” he mused.

“Very,” she said, raising a brow. “What work are you doing at the Palace?” she repeated.

He sat back and steepled his fingers, eyeing her. “The Raptors are my clients and I provide them with legal representation. As I’m on retainer, they insist upon a nightly check in.”

Judging by all the arrests she’d read about in the news articles she’d collected, Daisy bet they kept him busy.

 “And what about you? You aren’t the typical girl the Raptors employ.”

She shrugged. “I needed some quick money,” she answered smoothly. “So I took the first job offered to me.”

“That’s all, huh?” He widened his eyes, watching her face carefully. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

She didn’t respond.

He grinned, seeming to enjoy the game of cat and mouse. “It’s a shame you didn’t bring something more appropriate to change into,” he purred, glancing down at her bare legs.

Bullshit.
She had a feeling Kent wanted her to be off balance, probably why he’d invited her to the upscale place, without giving her the opportunity to change out of her hoochie wear. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know there’d be a dress code.”

“Good evening. Can I take your order?” a young brunette waitress asked as she walked up to their table.

“You mean, may I take your order,” Kent corrected.

Well, that’s rude.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, flushing. “May I take your order?”

“It’s quite all right. We’ll have a bottle of sparkling wine and two flutes, not wine glasses. Make sure both the flutes as well as the bottle are chilled. I prefer somewhere between 44 and 46 degrees.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir, one bottle of champagne coming up.”

“I’m surprised they allow you to work at this establishment with such little knowledge about wines,” he admonished. “Champagne comes from one certain region in France. Lone Star makes an excellent local sparkling wine, but it isn’t champagne.”

The waitress offered a weak smile and scampered away from the table.

Kent reminded Daisy of an arrogant douchebag she’d only gone out with once. They’d met at Starbucks and he’d ordered such a precise and complicated cup of coffee, the barista had to take notes on his order. Then, the guy had proceeded to send it back twice. When she’d finally made it back home, Daisy had deleted him out of her phone.