Chapter 8
Emerson
I couldn't recall the last time I’d had such a good time, when I'd let myself go and had just enjoyed myself. The more time that I spent with the girls from the club, the more I liked them. They were like the sisters I'd never had, and they’d sincerely welcomed me into the group and made me feel as if we'd been friends forever. It was good to feel wanted, and just for a little while I was reminded that there was more to life than work and paying bills. I'd spent too many years doing only what I'd needed to do to survive.
"Having fun?"
I laughed, feeling the energy surge through my blood. "Too much!" I was in the middle of the dance floor with Cookie and Della, shaking my bootie to the booming sound of rock. The floor was packed with gyrating bodies, some couples, but an equal amount of single dancers just getting down. The atmosphere was liberating if you let yourself be pulled into it. All around me people were enveloped in the music and having a good time. There was even a table set up where people were doing body shots.
"That looks like fun!" I nodded toward the table.
Della laughed. "That could be you!" she shouted over the music. "Next time wear a skirt."
"I just might!" The woman on the table looked as if she was enjoying the attention she was getting, having shots licked off her bare midriff by a bevy of handsome, eager contenders. Her high-pitched squeals could be heard over the noise in the room.
"The guys will be here soon," Cookie noted as she glanced toward the entrance. Her expression was almost eager, and I could tell that she was looking forward to seeing Rod come through the door.
"How do you know?"
"After they call we have about an hour before they show up!"
"They don't trust you that much?"
Della shook her head while the rest of her continued to twist to the music. "They're that protective!" she laughed. "They know a single woman is prey. They don't want to give anyone time to put the moves on us."
"Just like clockwork!" Cookie shouted, nodding toward the door.
I turned to see Rod, Tanner, Skipper, Mark, Sid, and Ace walk into the club. Ace? I was surprised to see him. He followed his brothers toward our table where Ruby, Lonnie, and Judith were sitting. He hadn't looked in our direction or even glanced around to look for anyone. Why was he here?
I brushed his unexpected appearance and the possible motive for it aside. "Well, I don't have a man to worry over me!" I joked, rotating my hips.
"Keep working it, honey, and you will before long!" Cookie said loudly enough for me to hear over the music. "I've seen a couple of hotties checking you out!"
Cookie and Della gradually made their way back to our table, where they promptly sat down onto Rod and Skipper's laps. I did a little finger wave, making sure to avoid Ace's eyes, and then let the music consume me. Closing my eyes, rotating my hips, I brought my arms up over my head and danced as if no one was watching.
****
Ace
No sooner had I sat down than my eyes lit on Emerson, who was out on the dance floor. I couldn't get over how fucking hot she looked. I was used to seeing her in jeans and tees, not in the tight, clinging little number she was wearing tonight that outlined her every sexy curve. Jesus, she had curves that made my mouth water. Why hadn't I noticed that before now? Because I was an idiot, that's why, and a selfish asshole. All I'd cared about was getting off, and tossing money at her when I was done had made my treatment of her all okay in my book.
After all, she'd taken the money.
She wasn't completely innocent.
Cookie and Della were with her, and the three of them were shaking it like there was no tomorrow. Those women were drop dead gorgeous, too. All of the Sentinels' women were. I could tell there was conversation going on between them, and it was also apparent that they were enjoying themselves. They were crowded together by other dancers who were doing the same hip-rotating, tit-shaking moves they were. I narrowed my gaze at the man that I saw leaning against the bar not more than two feet away from where Emerson was dancing, knowing from the look on his face that he'd found his prey for the night.
I clenched my teeth and by sheer willpower remained where I was sitting. She wasn't mine; I had to remind myself of that. Cookie and Della began weaving their way in our direction, leaving Emerson out on the dance floor. Emerson glanced our way, a bright smile on her face, giving us a finger wave before turning away as if she didn't have a care in the world. I felt totally dismissed. There hadn't been an inkling of excitement in her eyes at seeing me there. Hell, she'd barely acknowledged me.
"Can we stay for a few dances before you drag us home?" Judith asked, tilting her face up to Mark.
He bent forward and gave her a brief kiss. "Haven't you been dancing?"
"I was waiting for you," she confessed.
"I don’t know why we call this a girls' night out," Lonnie grumbled good-naturedly. "You cavemen barely give us enough time to get in a couple of dances, a drink or two, and then you're showing up."
"It's called keeping you out of trouble," Skipper quipped with a smirk.
"Yeah, you're lucky we let you out alone for this amount of time, baby," Sid grumbled.
"Since when have we ever caused you boys any trouble?” Ruby questioned, glaring over her shoulder at Tanner.
His brows shot up as he met the fire in her eyes. "Boys? Haven’t I warned you about calling us boys, baby?" Ruby blushed ten shades of red and turned forward, but there was a satisfied smile on her rosy face.
"You look hot tonight, baby." Rod leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against the side of Cookie's neck. She closed her eyes and sighed, arching her neck so that he had better access. "Too fucking hot," he grumbled, nipping at her lightly.
"Come on, darlin'." Mark nudged Judith off of his lap and to her feet. "Since you've been waiting for me, I guess we can have a dance or two." Hands linked, they made their way to the cluster of dancers.
"What about us?" Ruby inquired.
Tanner released a resigned sigh and then they left the table, too.
During all of this mundane chit chat I'd been stealing glances at Emerson, who had yet to show any signs of slowing down and leaving the floor. She was clearly in her element; the music had claimed her. Her sensual movements, the way her body swayed to the beat, vibrating throughout the room was a turn-on in itself. As her hands outlined her curves in a lazy glide up her body I could easily imagine my hands doing the same fucking thing.
It was a good thing that I was sitting down because my dick was as hard as fucking stone, and pounding behind my zipper. I'd watched a lot of women dancing and had the same reaction, but fuck, not with this overwhelming intensity. My blood was on fire for this woman, and it was all I could do not to march out there and stake my claim. But then it was too late, and the dude that I’d seen watching her earlier was making his move.
Fucking hell!
I averted my eyes to calm myself down, vaguely aware of the conversation going on surrounding me until I heard my name mentioned. I looked over at Della, not having a clue what she'd just asked. "Didn't catch that," I grumbled.
Her knowing smile annoyed me. "I said, ‘why don't you go out there and dance?’ There are a lot of single women."
The trouble with our women was that after a while they didn't see the scars anymore. They forgot about the damage to my body, ignored the fact that I was just as damaged inside, and started treating me as if I were a regular, normal man, just another brother in the Sentinels who needed to find someone and settle down. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself. It was a fucking fact, and I'd learned to live with it.
Women--especially beautiful women--didn't want a fucking monster in their bed.
All they wanted from me was an occasional fuck because they were enthralled with my biker image and were willing to overlook the rest for bragging rights. They used me. I used them. We both walked away satisfied.
I shot another glance at Emerson, clenching my teeth when I saw her grinding up against the prick who'd joined her on the dance floor. He was grinding right back into her delectable ass, his hands holding her hips. The thought of his dick getting hard against what was mine caused me to stand up with a loud growl.
A warning tone immediately threw ice water in my face, bringing me back to the fucking reality of the situation. "Easy, brother. She's not yours." I paused and looked down at Sid. His expression was hard, but I noticed a spark of understanding in his eyes.
Christ. Was I so fucking transparent? The knowledge pissed me off. I forced a grin on my lips. "Relax, brother. I'm just doing what Della suggested and going to dance."
My gaze moved back to the dance floor, exploring the possibilities, when a woman gyrated herself right into my line of vision. “She was tall and thin—not my type—but her ample tits made up for it.” The invitation in her eyes was obvious, and I followed the crook of her finger until I moved into position behind her. I put my hands on her skinny hips, wincing at the bones I felt there. She instantly thrust her ass into my dick and started to grind.
"I've had my eyes on you!" she shouted over her shoulder, a smile on her ruby red lips.
"Is that so?" I asked, trying to get into the mood. I leaned in a little, putting my mouth against her skin right below her ear. Her ass felt good grinding against my dick, but not good enough to turn it hard. A tiny tingle and that was it.
She shook her head, sending a cloud of perfume up my nose. "Yes!" She wound her arms up and around my neck. "You're a biker, right? I can tell by your cut! Bikers have always turned me on!" If she only knew how many times I'd heard that shit before. As if realizing that her movements weren't turning me hard she reached back, aiming straight for the front of my pants. "Not feeling it, baby?"
Not a damn bit. I made the mistake of looking up and right into Emerson's eyes. She had stopped dancing and was standing in front of me, frozen, a look on her face that I couldn't decipher. If I didn't know better I'd have guessed that it was disappointment that I saw in her eyes, and something else. Hurt? The man she'd been dancing with was gone. A quick glance behind her revealed that he was at the bar, possibly getting them drinks. My eyes met hers again, and there was no way I could misinterpret the sad resignation that had replaced the earlier emotions I’d seen in her eyes.
Before I could try and guess why, she turned away and joined her man friend at the bar. I realized that the hand at my pants was now trying to undo my zipper. Was she crazy? I scowled and brushed her hand away.
"Not in the fucking mood," I snarled, walking back to the table.