Page 30 of The Firebrand
Eyes popping open, he arched his brows but rose. Glancing at his unfinished whiskey, he swallowed it in one gulp. “Just a sec.”
When he returned, he passed off Braelyn’s second drink, his lips curling at the corners. “Take it easy.” He propped his feet up, got comfy, and sipped his whiskey.
Braelyn snorted, smoothing the front of her T-shirt.
I’m so boring I’ll put him to sleep. The bookends may be boxed wine, but I’m beer. Cheap beer, at that. Not even an organic craft ale.
At that moment, the bikini-topped hoochie mama draped a leg over Chay’s while she rubbed his crotch. With his chest bare, the other bookend sucked on his nipples. He relaxed his neck against a cushion, his legs spread, lost in testosterone heaven.
I am so not watching this.
Braelyn averted her eyes. She risked another peek at Rein, whose smoldering blues zoomed in on her. She touched her cheek.Hot.He expected her to be so shocked she would ask to leave.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“What are the women?” She leaned in to whisper in his ear.
He shuddered when her lips brushed his lobe. “Nymphs.”
Chay drew upright, half lidded, his smile dreamy as he pushed his admirers away. “Hey, you two. Braelyn, welcome to the Shed.”
Ms. Bikini Top and Flowered Blouse slunk into the leather sofa, arms folded, to glare at her.
“Thanks. Nice to be here,” Braelyn shouted, trying her best not to gawk at the mounds of plump flesh and exposed skin.
“Braelyn goes clubbing a lot.” Rein clasped her in a brotherly hug. “She loves it here. Right?”
As she was about to say, “Right,” one nymph proceeded to stroke the tent pole in Chay’s pants. Glued to the action, Braelyn squeaked out, “Sure.” She wasn’t positive she said it aloud.
“I’ll have another.” She shoved her empty glass toward Rein, her fingers skimming his arm. She jerked away, hit with a jolt of lust.
What’s with the guy and all the static electricity?
He shook his head as he rolled his eyes—a very unwarrior-like thing to do, in her opinion. He caught the bartender’s attention, raising a couple of digits. After he threw back his drink, he rose to pick up refills.
Braelyn tucked her legs underneath, trying to look at ease. A fight broke out. A shouting crowd gave two males space. Near her, they squared off. A redheaded brawler thrust a broken bottle at another guy, who scuttled backward, his hand waving through the air. Then the audience closed around them, hooting and hollering, blocking the combatants from Braelyn’s view.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” she asked when Rein returned, their refills held high as he wove through the cheering crowd.
“I am doing something.” He raised his glass, sipped his whiskey, and ignored the action.
Braelyn looked to Chay, who said, “Off duty.”
As the fight continued, the redhead skidded across the floor, on-lookers jumping clear before he landed at Rein’s boots. Her kidnapper growled. “Take it down the road, demon.” With a muscled punt from Rein’s shitkicker, the guy slammed head-first into a barstool. Blood gushed from a nasty wound, but Rein returned to his whiskey.
When the familiar bug crawled up her spine, Braelyn glanced around, sensing creepy eyes on her. A hole opened in the brawl-obsessed crowd, revealing a man at the bar. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. He hunched forward, head down, leaning into a drink clasped between his hands.
Then the hole closed, on-lookers blocking the view. Fight over, they dispersed, but the man had vanished.
Braelyn shrugged.
Impossible. I don’t know anyone here.
ChapterSeven
Flankedby four other warriors and surging with palpable energy, Ram peacocked through the Blood Shed. “Let’s Light It Up” by the Kottonmouth Kings blasted through the speakers.
When the satyr cut a path through the bar, he drew stares from females who mooned over his caramel-blond hair flying loose. His solid muscles rippled as he strode forward, sucking up the crowd’s adulation, trying to erase bad memories from seven years ago today.
