Page 2 of Dirty Salvation

Zara's head flipped around to see a tall male who owned the sinister sounding voice. Incredibly tall he had to have part giant DNA at least, a beard too long and scraggly hung off his face, and what she and her friends calledJesus hairdangled around a severe jawline. There was nothing easy in the smile of his, but it revealed even white teeth. Predator's teeth,all the better to eat you, my dear.Zara took a step back. He leaned forward and blew smoke in her face, she tried hard not to cough, she already stood out like a sore thumb, without adding weak to her resume because she couldn't handle a bit of tobacco smoke.

God.She hoped it was just tobacco. Her lungs revolted and began to heave. The man laughed loud, dirty and darkly.

His leather vest ... his cut, she amended. Bikers called them a cut because it had the name of their club on the back. She already knew this because every guy in here wore the same well-dinged black leather with the scary face of the grim reaper on the back holding a death scythe. His patch read;Vice President.

Though her nerves jangled as the guy leered, bloodshot eyes, plausibly drunk, she tried to smile and act casual, all the while scanning for her friend who had disappeared off the face of the earth.I'm going to die here.She thought dramatically, not quite meeting the viciously blue eyes so colorless in shade they seemed white under the fluorescent lights, assessing her like she was a slab of beef and he was deciding which knife and fork to use.I’m all gristle,she wanted to say.

"I..I came with a friend. She's here somewhere."Presumably getting killed like I will be soon.

Destiny doesn't come to you, Zar, you have to grab it by the fucking balls and make it yours.Morgana had schooled her earlier that night when she'd been blackmailing her friend into going to the well renowned open house party at theSoul’scompound. Somehow Zara didn't think her destiny lies with sexually promiscuous bikers or the trouble they rode in on.Her plans were for law school in the fall and after that, she'd get a job withBarker, Moss, and Johnson.Ten years after that she'd make partner. She had her portfolio all mapped out for the next twenty years. Nothing in it said she would knock on destiny's door in the Colorado mountains surrounded by the roughest most dangerous men she'd ever clapped eyes on.Heaven forbid.She was judging them, and judging hard.

Her heart rapped harder.Nervous tension licking at her ankles.Wherethe hell was Morgana? She'd dumped Zara almost the moment they'd been let inside, she wanted to go and find someone called Tiny, she'd said. Zara had hoped it was to ask for a ride home, but an hour later Zara had begun to lose faith in that. Morgana was a party animal; she was fourth of July fireworks… everything Zara wasn’t. This was the one time she'd let herself be talked into something risky. And she was instantly regretting it.What a sucker. Who was peer pressured at twenty-three?

Biker guy was still there, he leered and circled around her, leaning in to sniff her hair.

"Little mice wanting to play with the bad guys,funny.You want me to show you my sand pit, girl?" He again blew smoke in her direction before his tongue snaked out and licked the full length of his lower lip.

His eyes were malevolent.

Call her slow, but Zara didn’t think he had play in mind. Besides, he wasn’t that attractive. Would it kill him to shave?

Her belly tightened, where was that exit again? She'd leave Morgana here if she had to. Every man for himself on the titanic.

"You came to party, scared mouse. All groupies come to the fucking party."

Groupies?He was no Adam Levine.

She could smell alcohol on his breath when he leaned in to sniff her again. What was the fricking sniffing about? She’d showered today. Sidestepping, he only laughed, moved his huge body with her in a fast momentum, blocking off her exit and caught her wrist. "I like 'em timid and scared. I'll show you how to bend over for me and scream."

Oh god. I'm going to die here. She repeated. Her panic rising to Def Con; Cinderella when she lost her shoe at midnight.

And then.

"Hawk." One word traveled from across the room through all the background noise and ruckus, over the heads of wandering men ... she still heard it.Felt it. Zara's spine stiffened then softened as if melted.

The deep timber was whiskey smooth. Smoke rough.All sex.

Without thinking, Zara sought out who had spoken. Compelled to see who the voice belonged to.

"Yo, Prez?"

"You're scarin' the guest. Let her go."

Her wrist was freed and the guy snarled about beingfucking cockblockedhis eyes flared showing his annoyance. Nerves grabbed a hold of her. He would likely be handsome underneath his facial hair and glower, deep beneath,probably, not that Zara wanted to look beneath his surface because he was undoubtedly intimidating.

The stuff nightmares were made of.

Jesus hair would be the monster not only under your bed, he’d kick his way into your dreams and terrorize the life out of you.But that was just a guess.

It was another pair of darker eyes that ripped the attention to a standstill. Noise ceased while blood roared in her ears.

The most dramatic pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen, and really, blue was an inadequate description, her long educated brain had shut down from forming words of two syllables or more, and that voice,wow,sounded a lot-amused, leaning against a winding chrome bar, beer bottle caught between finger and thumb, his black boots adorned with buckles and silver studs crossed at the ankle, he was the epitome of relaxed, not even glancing at the various sex acts happening on couches, tables, against walls and that one couple on the floor. How did you have people screwing around you and you don’t even look?

He was staring at Zara. That’s why. And she stared back.

If she thought Jesus hair could be handsome if he cleaned up with a nice bath, a bottle of cologne and fresh clothes, then blue eyes had to be the most beautiful guy she'd ever clapped eyes on. No work needed, he was incredible.

Seriously. Wow.

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