PLAYED - A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE (25 page)

“Well, if you wanted
quiet, I guess you probably picked the wrong bar…” I told him.

“No...” Trent said,
his hand covering mine, “I think I came to the right place.”

I gulped. It was a
total move, but it was
working.

“Is that so,” I
strained to say dispassionately.

“Yeah,” he agreed,
his widening smile exposing a few bright white teeth. “That’s so.”

I knew how he was
looking at me. His eyes tenderly slid along the curvature of my skin. I could
have stopped him… I should have stopped him… The problem was, I
wanted
him to look at me like that.

Goddammit, I want him.

I want him BAD.

And the worst part is…he knows it.

As my throat grew
tight and my cheeks reddened, I became suddenly aware that I was still dressed
for work… Barely. My shirt was torn half open by the bikers, exposing the pink
bra beneath. The miniskirt had hiked itself up my thighs as I patched Trent up.
Now I was sitting in bed beside the hottest hunk of man flesh I’d ever laid my
eyes on.

And the very same man
had an infuriating, damning look plastered on his face. I could feel it,
burning down in his gaze as he looked at me.

That smug look that
just screamed
victory.

Fuck me.

Chapter
7

Trent

This bartender chick
was putty in my hands, gazing at me with widened eyes and heaving breasts. Her
lips subtly formed that slight little ‘
O’
that I like so much, and I couldn’t help but smile deeper.
 

She only seemed more
aroused.

But I wasn’t going to
overplay the charm.

My knuckles brushed
lightly against her cheek, pushing a few strands of hair aside. She quivered
beneath my touch, her eyes locked onto mine.

“Thank you for
cleaning me up,” I whispered.

“Mhmm,” she nodded
softly.

“How could I possibly
repay you?”

“You’ll…think of
something.”

“I think I already
have.”

I leaned down towards
her.

Down towards my
prize…

And suddenly, the
distant
clang
of a door.

She leapt up from the
bed, from me, and hesitantly wandered to the doorway. With a hand against the
wall, she carefully peered out.

A voice called out,
distantly.

“Angel… Angel?”

It was the sound of
an old man, older and raspier than the bikers. Sounded like it was probably an
old bag of bones, at least from first impression.

At his calling, she
immediately left.

So, THAT’S her name,
I thought to myself. It was
fitting…

It was only then that
I realized that I’d never learned it. Any immediate shame got dismissed with a
quick shrug. Hell, half the groupies I’d fucked never had a name to their
faces.

And the ones that
did…well, I usually forgot those names by the morning.

I let a few moments
idly saunter past, waiting for her to come back and tell me that everything was
fine. As the seconds dragged on to minutes, I realized that this was a little
more serious…

I couldn’t make any
out any of the conversation from back here, but it sounded like the intruder
and my improvised medic were having quiet the emotional chat.

Grumbling, I slowly
rose from the bed.

She had been right here.

She was going to be mine.

My muscles ached, and
I ignored how they snarled in pain. Steadying myself against the wall, I took a
few injured steps, finally making it to the doorway.

Fuck. I’m in worse shape than I thought.

Entering the hallway
in a slight hunch, I was able to limber up a little with each consecutive step.
By the time I rounded the corner, crossed a storage room, and came to where
they were, I could move far easier.

It was the bar.

The bar?

“I thought you said
we were at your place,” I complained to Angel, who was speaking to some old,
grumpy looking bastard of a man. They both immediately turned to me with mutual
shock, their conversation temporarily forgotten.

The old geezer looked
indignant.

What is he, her grandfather?

“This…
is
my place,” Angel replied, her eyes
full of surprise and embarrassment. “This is where I work, and where I live…
home sweet home!
And what the
hell
are you doing up?”

“Angel,” the decrepit
old man addressed her, his withering gaze locked disdainfully onto me. “Would
you care to explain why a shirtless man is back there with you, in my bar,
after hours?”

“I was telling you
that someone saved me,” she answered. The look on her face told me that she was
furious that I’d revealed myself.

Tough shit.

She continued, waving
her hand in my direction. “Well,
this
is that someone.”

“I…see.” He turned to
her, a disappointed look plastered across those old wrinkles. “So, in exchange
for rescuing you, you just thought that you’d throw this stranger a little pity
fuck?”

Angel was visibly
stunned.

“Hey,” I told him. “I
don’t know who the fuck you are, but don’t you dare talk to her like that.”

The man chuckled.
“Got a mouth on you, too. I’ll have you know that Angel lives here, rent-free,
under a few conditions.
Rule number
one, no boys.”

“I’m not a
boy
,” I growled.

“Yes…I can see that,”
he observed, his withered glance sliding along my muscles. “And that’s even
worse.”

He turned to face
her, and she wilted under his angry gaze.

“Nice to see that you
have such reverence for my rules. You have disappointed me, Angel. I thought
that I had been
very clear
what would
happen if you did. Have I not put you up here, taken care of you, and put up
with your constant rulebreaking? And now
this.
”

“I’m sorry, Old
Greg,” she murmured. “Don’t throw me back out. I was only patching him up,
honest. He just woke up. Ask him.”

Old Greg glowered at
me.

“Is this true?”

I thought about
spitting out some sort of retort. Of punishing him for daring to come between
us, or
her
for leaping up and ripping
my prize away.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I
answered begrudgingly.

“But you’re
shirtless.”

“You’re observant,
aren’t you?” He was seriously pissing me off, and I couldn’t help but take the
pot shot. But before his indignant glare could smolder into action, I quickly
added: “I took a few hits. She was making sure my ribs weren’t broken.”

After a moment to
stifle his reaction, the old man nodded, apparently accepting this explanation.

“Which reminds me…
next time, you let the
hospital
handle your wounded friends. Angel, you told me that you’re
supposed
to be letting that part of your
life go. Always patching people up yourself. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes sir,” she
quietly agreed.

“Because it doesn’t
look like that now.” He pointed at me. “
He
should be seeing a doctor right now. Not lying around in the back of a bar.
I mean, what kind of supplies do we seriously have? What if he needs an
emergency room? You should have sent him from here in an ambulance.”

“I’m in good shape,”
I cut in.

“No son, you look as
bad as your attitude. Both of which are
absolute
shit
,” he grumbled throatily. A slight cough rumbled out from his chest,
and he quieted it with a handkerchief. “Tell me, is that
your
fancy jeep out front?”

“That’s right,” I
answered.

“Good. Can you
drive?”

“I think so,” I
blurted out.

I realized my mistake
too late.

“Fine. Get in your
jeep and drive, then.”

I swallowed angrily.

Old Greg continued.
“Closest after-hours clinic is a few miles down the Interstate. Head east. Look
for
Brightsdale.
Pass the welcome
sign, a mile down on the left. Can’t miss it. Big bright building, probably the
only one with the lights on at this time of night.”

Angel’s eyes met
mine. She was hurt and confused, but I could tell she was resigned to this.

I, on the other hand,
wasn’t so convinced.

“You want me out?
After I saved your tenant?”

Old Greg bristled.
“Son, as the owner of the roof currently over your head, I want you seeking
proper medical attention, instead of sniffing around my
tenant
as you so respectfully put it.”

I wanted to lash out.

I wanted to hit him.

But I bit my tongue.

When I didn’t snap at
his words, the owner visibly softened – even if only by a little. With a deep
sigh, he pointed over at Angel.

“Don’t get me wrong:
you saved her. I’m grateful. The sheriff told me what you did, and I shudder to
think what would have happened if you weren’t here.”

I couldn’t help
myself.

“This sort of thing
happen often?”

Old Greg soured.

“Not usually, no. I
have no earthly idea what got into them tonight. You see, now I have to go
through the trouble of figuring out a bouncer for a little while…”

“Right. Not a bad
idea. Better than leaving her here alone with patrons you two clearly can’t
control.”

He looked me in the
eyes, deciding whether or not to jump into a fresh round of passive-aggressive
arguing with me. Only, I was prepared to back it up a little more
viciously
this time, fueled by a
rock-hard cock that demanded release.

This idiot had fucked
it all up.

Things had been going
great.

“Yes… you’re right,”
he conceded. “And I will figure out what to do about that very soon. Now then,
I’m going to politely ask you to leave my bar. Make me ask again… maybe it’s
not so nice next time.”

“Can she walk me
out?” I asked him.

The crusty bar owner
turned to her, and then nodded. “If Angel wants, so long as she’s back inside
shortly. She’s got a damn hole in my roof that needs patching. I’m amazed,
frankly, that you didn’t blow my whole fucking bar down.”

Pushing my confidence
and arrogance aside, I decided to leave on a high note. “I’m sorry for the trouble,
sir,” I extended my hand. “I’ll be on my way.”

Old Greg nodded
quickly, but ignored the gesture all the same. “Two minutes,” he assigned me.
“More than enough time for the two of you.”

I let his blatant
disrespect slide, and instead just walked out the door. Angel dejectedly fell
into step beside me right afterwards. We hung around at the jeep for a moment.

“You’re not coming
back, are you?” She asked morosely as she twisted her hair in her fingers. It
was kind of sad to see, even for me.

“Do you have a cell
phone?” I redirected the conversation. “Some way of getting in touch with you?”

“No, no phone,” she
responded quietly.

Wow. No phone, living in the back of a bar, and I barely saw anything
that looked like it could be hers…

“That’s a shame,
because I still owe you for trying to patch me up,” I told her. An opportunity
was already formulating in the back of my head. “
RipFest
doesn’t shut shop tonight. We’re playing another set
tomorrow night. You should come.”

“But that’s so far,”
she mumbled, glancing vaguely in the right direction. “There’s no way I can
walk that, and I have to patch that hole tonight...”

“Don’t need to walk
it,” I replied calmly.
Yes, this is all
falling into place.
“You’re staying here, right? I’ll send someone to pick
you up.”

“You’d do that?” She
was stunned.

“Of course. Least I
can do,” I smiled. It was hard to keep my wickedness out of my voice.

Angel apparently saw
that, and hesitated for a moment. It was enough for my smile to falter.
Fuck. Did I just overplay this?
“But I,
well… I guess it’s true that I’m not working tomorrow night…”