Hawk's Property:Insurgents Motorcycle Club(4)By: Chiah Wilder
Cara pretended to be engrossed in conversation with an inebriated Sherrie. Her face was turned toward her friend, but her ears were glued to the biker’s conversation. She couldn’t help herself; she was repulsed, yet titillated by his crudeness.
“You horny bastard.” Patsy chuckled.
“No argument there. She’s one sexy woman.”
Her cheeks flushed as the men continued to talk about her. She was tempted to grab her friend’s arm and yank her out of the dive at any second.
“Damn, girl, that guy is really checking you out. He’s totally hot.” Sherrie nudged her, tilting her head in Hawk’s direction.
“He’s being rude, and I’m not flattered.” Unable to resist, Cara glanced at Hawk sideways. Every time she looked at him, he was staring back at her, his gaze lingering on her mouth. His piercing stare made her stomach flutter. These drinks must really be strong. She was ogling a complete stranger decked out in leather and chains, picturing his lips on hers, his tongue probing her mouth. Fanning herself with her hand, she swore not to have another drink.
“I’d do anything to have Patsy look at me the way that badass is looking at you. Maybe if my boobs were bigger? What do you think, Car?”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“You do? You mean my boobs aren’t big enough for Patsy?”
“What? Oh, yeah, I mean no. Sorry, Sherrie, I didn’t really hear you,” Cara admitted.
Sherrie, beyond tipsy, swayed on her bar stool. “Men always like the big boobs. Hey, Patsy man, give me another.”
Patsy came over and put two drinks in front of them. “Excuse me, but I didn’t order another one. Only my friend did,” Cara said.
“Drinks are compliments from the two guys coming your way, ladies.” He smiled wide.
“Isn’t he cute, Car? Shit, Patsy’s hot.” Sherrie stared at Patsy’s ass as he bent over the ice machine.
Cara looked around to see who’d ordered the drinks. Two bearded men with slight potbellies were coming their way. She turned away. “Don’t look now, but we have some not-so-hot admirers coming our way. Ugh! Why did I let you talk me into coming here?”
“Admirers? Where? I’ll show Patsy man that I don’t need his hard ass,” Sherrie slurred, turning around.
Wishing she could slip away unnoticed, Cara kept her head down, hoping it would make her somehow invisible. No chance. “Hi, pretty lady,” a whiskey breath said in her ear.
Crap. Cara turned toward the voice. A man who looked like a grizzly bear was smiling at her while he stared at her breasts. Just great.
“What’s a classy lady like you doing in a joint like this?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself.” She smiled back.
“My name’s Rot, and this here is Beaver.” He pointed to his friend, who was talking with Sherrie.
Sherrie was laughing her ass off about something, and Beaver took every sway as an excuse to put his thick arm around her waist and cop a feel. Sherrie was too wasted to notice, completely useless to help herself if things took a turn for the worse. I can’t let this guy grope her. Again, Cara wondered why in the hell she didn’t stay home. Sherrie was always talking her into doing something crazy. Ever since junior high, they’d shared some crazy adventures. Cara decided this night would be added to their list.
Rot kept leaning into Cara. He put his arm around her shoulder and yanked her toward him, crushing her breasts against his chest. She tried pulling away, but he held her tightly.
“Why don’t you drink your drink? I ordered it for you.”
“Thanks, but I’ve had enough. We’ve got to get going.”
“Beaver and I will take you wherever you wanna go. We know a good place near here where we can have a fuckin’ good time.” He leaned his face into hers, trying to kiss her. She turned her head, a wet kiss catching her on the cheek.