Page 29 of The Firebrand
“Now you’re talkin’.” Rein strode up to the bar while Braelyn hung back to admire his tight ass. Having gotten an eyeful of temptation, she pulled alongside, propping an elbow on worn wood. A dark-skinned bartender with deep-set eyes and muscled arms, looking like he could hold his own in a fight, rushed over.
“What’ll it be, Rein?” His big smile revealed gleaming, pointed incisors.
“My favorite. Two Demon Scourges.” Rein’s rich voice carried over the noise, a grin tugging at his mouth. He twisted toward Braelyn. “Neat for her. Add a cold pulse to mine.”
The bartender didn’t spare her a flitting glance before he disappeared.
Adapting to the light, she eyeballed scantily clothed beings sprawled on the couches. On the dance floor, couples swayed to the music, their bodies wrapped in fiery embraces. On barstools, their heads together, patrons ignored the nearby orgies. Next to Braelyn, a short-skirted woman, her legs crossed, her mouth stuck to the neck of the man beside her, came up for air. Her fangs dripping blood, she shot Braelyn a smile while swiping a finger across her lips. She sucked on it, savoring every drop.
Nope. Not the hangout on First.
Braelyn turned her attention to Rein, who acted unaware of the surrounding activities, his gaze on the bartender’s back.
Does Rein come here to suck neck?
The vampire returned with the tumblers of dark amber whiskey.
Rein lifted the glasses off the bar, nudging Braelyn. “Over this way. Look for Chay.”
Braelyn spotted him. Rein’s partner lounged between two full-breasted bookends. One wore a bikini-style top that barely passed for a nipple cover. The other spilled over her blouse, a flowered, buttonless shirt that tied just under her boobs. Skimpy shorts with above-the-knee boots completed their ensembles. Chay was shirtless, clothed in black leather pants which sported a large bulge between his spread legs.
Rein jerked his elbow, indicating the couch across from the Firebrand.
The woman on Chay’s right nibbled his earlobe, her breasts massaging his arm, while Ms. Flowered Shirt was busy licking his chest, her fingers playing hickory-dickory-dock up the inside of his thigh.
“Is this like clubbing at home?” Rein interrupted Braelyn’s ogling.
Tearing her gaze from Chay, she whispered in his ear. “My friends wear more clothes. Shouldn’t we sit somewhere else? I think he wants to be alone.”
“I don’t think he knows we’re here.”
“Those … um … ladies are … um … and I’d rather give them a little privacy.” Still whispering, she touched Rein’s shoulder, sparks shooting through her own body.
“You ready to leave?” Rein’s voice was throaty as he glanced away from Chay and his companions to check out Braelyn.
Without flinching or blushing, she met her stern-but-sexy kidnapper’s scrutiny. If he could eyeball the action, so could she. But the surrounding air was as thick as molasses. If molasses were a porn star in heat. “No, I want to chill and finish my drink.”
Braelyn took a sip, jetting a stream of booze from her mouth. “Whoa. That’s strong.” She coughed again as Rein hit her on the back.
“I swallowed wrong. That’s all.” Braelyn held up a hand.
“Sure.”
“What did you call this brand?”
“Demon Scourge. It’s a whiskey bottled in Knife’s Edge and only sold on Scath. It’s rare.”
“You asked for a cold pulse in yours. What’s that?”
Rein sniffed his drink. “Succubus, I think.” He tasted it. “Yep. Succubus blood.”
“What? Eew!”
Her stomach lurched. Taking her attention off his special cocktail, she bounced her gaze around the room, returning to Rein.
His lids closed, his lashes shadows on his cheeks, he rested his head on the back of the couch. His wide shoulders relaxed against the cushions, but the pulsing tendons in his neck told a different story. He lifted his thick, muscled legs to plunk his boots on the table.
Braelyn let out a loud sigh, tossed back her drink, and tapped Rein’s arm with her empty tumbler. “Another?”
