Tex (Burnout) (8 page)

It was almost nine on a Friday night and the place was starting to fill up. He spotted Hawk and Shooter by the pool tables. After scanning the place for Abby and not seeing her, he headed toward his friends. He grabbed a chair across from Hawk and sat down facing the front door, watching it intently.

Shooter laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t just order her to show up.”

Tex took a sip of the beer Slick had brought him. “I pretty much did.”

“Then relax, cowboy. If she’s one of yours, she’ll show up,” Shooter replied.

Tex rolled his eyes. On the one hand he was grateful that his former lieutenant was cool about Tex’s sexual proclivities. At one time, Tex had thought Shooter might be more than interested when Tex’d seen the man come on strong to a tiny brunette at a bar in London once. After that, Tex had taken his lieutenant to a club he’d heard about while they had a layover in Tokyo, but Shooter hadn’t been into it. Apparently Chris Sullivan was just an alpha male.

But Shooter hadn’t judged Tex after Tex had explained that everything was consensual and he had no interest in seriously hurting women. Encouraged by Shooter’s acceptance, Tex had become more open about his interests with Hawk and Doc and neither of them had shown any real concerns over it. They hadn’t shown any interest, either, and Tex was fine with that.

But it was sometimes hard to get them to understand what BDSM actually was and how it fit into Tex’s life. Asking Abby to come tonight wasn’t the same as ordering her when she was wearing his collar. It was her choice and she could always choose not to come. Which would be disappointing to Tex because he’d decided that he needed to at least have a taste of her.

He was on his second beer when she finally showed. She stepped in through the front door wearing a little black dress and high heels, all that red hair loose and flowing about her shoulders. A slow grin spread over his face.

Hawk gave a low whistle. “I’ll admit you do know how to pick ‘em, cowboy.” All the men at the table watched as Abby headed straight for the bar. She ordered a drink from Maria. She took it, nodded appreciatively, and said something to Slick as she came back to get a round of drinks for a table.

Abby and Maria were talking when a guy in a Stetson and Tony Llama boots came up behind her. He leaned in, spoke to Abby, and she turned to him. She smiled, but shook her head. She started to turn back and he tried again. Abby again shook her head. When she turned back to Maria, the wannabe cowboy slapped her ass with his hand. Tex saw red.

He bolted out of his chair and headed across the main floor at a breakneck pace, but before he got there, Abby sent her left elbow flying into the man’s face. She turned on her heel and punched him in the nose with a right hook. He fell back and landed on his ass just as Tex made it to the two of them.

Abby looked down at the cowboy with disdain. “If you get up again, I’m just gonna put you down harder, and then I’m gonna stomp a new hole in your ass with my motherfucking Jimmy Choos,” she told him calmly.

“What the fuck is your pro-” the man started to say, but Tex had him up and was shoving him out the front door before he could finish his question.

“You don’t ever put your hands on what’s mine,” Tex growled quietly into the asshole’s ear and threw him out the front door.

As he turned back to the bar Maria said, “Vegas, are you gonna beat the shit outta every man in my bar?”

Abby turned to the older woman. “Well, hell, Maria, seeing as how I can’t get a goddamn martini in this place I just figured we were so far off the beaten path that we no longer had to follow the rules of polite society.”

Maria grinned and refilled Abby’s gin. “Smartass,” said the blonde to the redhead.

Abby picked up her drink and Tex put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Abby smirked at him. “Well, I wasn’t the one on the floor so I’d say yeah.”

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her behind him.

“Where are we going?”

“To my table where I can keep an eye on you.”

Abby took a seat next to him at the table with Easy on her other side. Tex looked down at her feet. “So those are the infamous Jimmy Choos, huh?”

Abby followed his gaze. “Well, last season is the only way I can afford a pair, but yeah.”

Tex smiled. “Last season or not, they make your ass look amazing.”

Abby’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything Slick came hurrying over. “Oh, my God! Abby are you okay?”

Abby turned to the slightly older but shorter woman and laughed. “Yeah, Slick, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You punched out a guy!”

Abby smiled and shook her head. “It’s fine, Slick. I’m not just Vegas. I’m Old Vegas. Third generation. Where people go for a ride into the desert and don’t come back.”

Slick’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, now tell Maria to buy some goddamn vermouth and some olives so I can have a proper drink before I shoot up the place.”

Slick grinned at her. “Will do.”

Abby settled back into her chair.

“Are you in the mafia?” Easy asked her and Tex rolled his eyes.

Abby gave him a sidelong glance. “Yes, because the mafia, unlike the Army Rangers, promotes women into their ranks and lets them wear high heels while they pack revolvers in their designer handbags.”

Hawk and Shooter laughed.

“Was your dad in the mafia?” Easy persisted.

“My dad was a mechanic.”

“That’s another word for hitman,” Easy pointed out.

Abby sighed. “Jesus, I thought
I
watched too many movies.”

Tex smiled. “You don’t have a TV, Vegas.”

She shrugged. “Well, when I get one, I’m buying a lot of movies. Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, Gilda, Chinatown. All the classics. But right now I need a kitchen table and crank shaft.”

Easy perked up. “I’ve got a shaft-”

“Stow it,” Tex commanded and Easy sank back down in his chair.

Abby took a slug of her gin. “Please tell me I wasn’t the highlight of this evening’s entertainment. Is there a band or something?”

“No band,” said Hawk. “Just a jukebox.”

Abby eyed it skeptically. “Any Frank?”

“Frank?” Easy asked.

“She means Sinatra,” Tex declared.

“I don’t think so,” Easy told her.

Abby sighed. “No martinis, no Frank, no band. I’m beginning to miss the Strip.”

“What?” asked Easy. “You miss strippers?”

Abby laughed. “Strip. The Strip.”

“Oh. You know any strippers?”

Abby sipped her gin. “I know a lot of everybody.”

Slick arrived with a glass and set it down in front of Abby. “Here you go, Vegas,” she said proudly.

Abby looked down and gasped. “Olives!”

“I snagged them from the kitchen. I don’t know what a good substitute for Vermouth is, though.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, don’t try. I got desperate once and used white wine. Disaster. Thanks, Slick.”

“No problem, hon.”

“You drink a lot,” Easy observed.

“Don’t judge me,” Abby replied.

“I’m just saying.”

“Whatever, how many beers are you on?” she asked. When he didn’t reply she said, “Mmm hmm. Gotcha. You and your hollow leg can leave me alone.”

The table got silent until Easy shoved his chair back and stormed away. Abby watched him go, shocked. She turned to Tex. “What happened? Did I-”

“It’s not your fault, Abby,” Tex said gently.

“But what did I do?”

“I’ll go talk to him,” said Doc, standing up.

Abby looked stricken. “I don’t understand.”

Tex stood up and took her hand. “Come on. Come dance with me, I’ll explain.”

Tex led Abby to the dance floor during a slow song and slid his hands around her waist, pulling her in close. “It’s nothing you did on purpose,” he assured her. “And Jimmy knows that. He’ll be alright. He’s got a prosthetic leg, Abby.” Abby gasped. “It was an IED on our last tour. Jimmy and Chris got hit. Jimmy lost his right leg below the knee.”

He watched tears brim around her eyes. He pulled her in and laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. It’s no one’s fault.”

“I should apologize,” she said in a shaky voice.

“No, no. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong and he knows that. Once the sting goes away, he’ll be fine.”

He danced with Abby and calmed her down a little more and when the song was over they rejoined the men at the table. Abby opened her mouth to say something to Easy but Tex shook his head. She closed her mouth and picked up her drink.

A few minutes later, Slick came by. “You need another one, hon?” she asked Abby.

“No,” Tex answered for her. “She’s done for the night.”

“Don’t judge me,” Abby insisted. “I can take a cab home. And I’m not even drunk yet.”

“You’re not getting drunk,” Tex informed her while handing her empty glass to Slick. “And I’m taking you home.”

“Yes, Sir,” Abby grumbled. Hawk, Doc, and Shooter laughed uproariously. Even Easy chuckled slightly. “What?” she asked them.

“Nothing,” Tex assured her while glaring at the men. “We’re just, you know, ex-army. ‘Sir’, and all that,” he replied while glaring daggers at his brothers.

Tex declined a final beer as well while listening to Abby tell the guys about the strange goings on in Las Vegas hotels. Men running naked, covered only by a pillow, to the ice machines and rooms accidentally being listed as vacant causing Ozzie and Harriet on their very first trip to Sin City to walk in on an all-male threesome.

He waited for her to finish her story and then picked up her purse from the back of the chair. “It’s time to go, Abby,” he told her.

Thankfully, she didn’t argue. She said goodbye to the guys, took her purse from Tex, and allowed him to guide her toward the door. He held the door to the Hummer open and helped her inside. He crossed the front to swung in beside her.

“I really can call a cab,” she told him as he turned the engine over.

“Yes, you could,” he replied and rolled out of the lot.

Minutes later he nosed into her driveway and pulled the parking brake. “Stay,” he told her and got out. He held her door open and took hold of her arm, helping her down onto the concrete. She fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the front door. He followed her inside.

She tossed her purse on the kitchen counter. “I have some leftover Chinese in the fridge.”

She moved toward the refrigerator, but Tex reached out and gathered a large handful of her hair, pulling her back gently. She gasped. He put his lips next to her ear. “I’m here to fuck you, Abby, and we both know it.” He felt her shudder against him. “Tell me you want it.”

Abby hesitated, breathing hard.

“Say it,” he prodded, keeping his voice low and gentle.

He felt her take a deep breath. “I- I want it,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” he replied and turned her around. He took her mouth, invading her with his tongue. She made the most lovely noise of surprise in her throat.

When she had gotten over her initial shock and started to kiss him back, he released her hair and slid his hands down to her ass and squeezed. She made another cute little noise. Keeping his mouth on hers, he turned her and walked her backwards, slowly, toward her closed bedroom door. He opened it with one hand and pushed her through.

He turned her around and bent her over the bed, holding her shoulders down with the palm of his hand. With his other hand he lifted her dress up over her hips. He got a very pleasant surprise. Her ass was round and gorgeous and framed by a lovely pair of black lace panties that sat mid-cheek, revealing the smooth curve of her rounded bottom.

He swept his hand over it slowly and then delved down between her thighs. “Spread your legs, Abby,” he said gently. He was pleased it only took her a few moments to decide to comply. She spread her feet apart just a little more. His cock surged behind his zipper. Such a good girl.