Dirty Girl (4 page)

“Listen.”
Booshie
took a step forward. “You pay us the weekly fees for the next year and we will call it even.”

John opened his mouth to say something, maybe to complain that he still couldn’t pay that, but
Booshie
held his hand up.

“Essentially you’re breaking a contract, and with any business you would have to suffer the consequences of breaking said contract, right?”

It took him a moment, but John nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good, then we have an understanding that we will keep the agreement that is set in place for the year.”
Booshie
lowered his head slightly, but kept his gaze locked on John.
“Because I don’t want to have to come back here and kick your fucking ass, John.
When I said the club like you, I meant that, but when you fuck with our revenue then you are nothing special.”

John swallowed audibly. “Yeah, I don’t want any trouble. I just don’t want to back away from…” He looked between him and Tank, and then swallowed again. “I just want to stay away from back alley stuff.” John
retreated
a step, and
Booshie
couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“All right, man.”
Booshie
walked up to him and gripped his shoulder. “Glad things worked out and we didn’t have to bust kneecaps.”
Booshie
grinned, but he was far from joking. It wasn’t like they went around doing this shit to every bar owner, but there had to be consequences when even a verbal contract was in place. They couldn’t have the rep of being bad motherfuckers if they let every Tom, Dick, and Harry walk all over them.

“Come on, man, I’m thirsty.” Tank placed the toothpick back in his mouth, and
Booshie
followed him out and into the bar. Some oldies music was playing overhead, a few slutty girls were dancing with each other in the center of the room, and the overall bar was pretty packed. “Can you believe that asshole trying to say he couldn’t afford to pay us when he has been busy like this every fucking weekend,” Tank said, but even in his voice it was clear the man was busy checking out the pussy. “I mean I’ve seen the numbers he’s been pulling in. The asshole is a lying motherfucker.”

Booshie
glanced at Tank, and the other biker turned away from the gyrating women.

“Little told me that every time he comes in here for a collection the place is pretty much shoulder-to-shoulder, and you know he overcharges for that imported shit.”

Booshie
nodded and scanned the bar. “Yeah, I know he does. That’s why I’m not letting him get by on this one. He continued to look throughout the bar, but it was the little platinum pixie haired beauty that was currently tossing back shots with a
Dita
Von
Teese
lookalike that snagged his attention. He knew
Naggie
from the tattoo shop, and there had always been something about her that had his dick harder than a motherfucker. Shit, they should have all run together for as many women as he had been with. But just thinking about her tight little body, of her slender frame, and of her mouth that was just as quick and raunchy as any of The Vicious Bastards’, had his cock ready to burst through his jeans. The brunette and
Naggie
were speaking in between clearly getting hammered, but there was almost this forlorn expression on
Naggie’s
face. Whatever had brought the pixie haired woman to the bar had obviously not been good. It wasn’t like she didn’t look like the kind of woman that enjoyed herself and partied, and he had heard Stella and
Cadeon
talking about the wild side
Naggie
had, but there was this definite heavy cloud hanging over her.

“Man, I’m going to grind my shit up all on those college chicks. They keep eye-fucking the hell out of me,” Tank said.

Booshie
looked over at Tank, and then glanced at the women dancing together in the center of the room.

“Damn, they are fucking hot, with those tight ass bodies,” Tank said and grinned. “I
betcha
I can get both of them in my bed tonight.”

“No doubt, man, but they are young enough to be your kids, Tank.”

Tank looked over at him. “Yeah, but I don’t have any kids, so I’m not going to entertain that thought.” Tank stared over
Booshie’s
shoulder. “But damn, look at that blonde
hottie
over there by the bar.”

Booshie
knew exactly who Tank was referring to, and he wasn’t going to let Tank entertain
that
thought.

“Man, I’m might go hit up the tatted up honey.”

“Back it off.”
Booshie
hadn’t meant to say that on such a rough growl, but damn, just the thought of any guy, especially a Bastard member, going over and trying to get with
Naggie
pissed him off.

“What, you hitting that or something?” Tank moved a step back, and reached for the toothpick in his mouth to remove it.

“No, but she works with
Cadeon
, and she has a man.”
Damn,
Booshie
needed to take a step back from this conversation. Tank was watching him with this look that told him he was suspicious on why he was cock blocking so hard.

“Yeah, man, what the fuck ever.” Tank shrugged. “I’m going over and picking up those chicks. They look like threesome material for sure.” Tank moved past him and over to the girls on the dance floor. Instantly they parted from each other and migrated over to Tank.

Booshie
looked at
Naggie
again, and his fucking cock got hard right away. She was leaning over the bar slightly, reaching for the limes, and her tank top rode up and displayed the small of her back. Shit, the ink on her skin was such a turn-on, and although she wasn’t totally covered in tattoos from head to toe, she had the perfect amount. Her body was also hot as shit.
Booshie
had always been about the thick, curvy variety of women, but
Naggie’s
slender form was having him on the verge of jerking himself off later tonight. Shit, who was he kidding? He’d either be fucking a club girl, or coming in his palm thinking about
Naggie
. He looked at her lower back, and his dick gave a jerk. On the small of her back was what looked like a sugar skull tattoo in vibrant
colors.
There were roses and vines moving throughout the eye sockets, the nose, and mouth, and
Booshie
found it hard to concentrate on anything else.

He took a step closer to her, but stopped when some douche-bag moved up right beside her, leaned on the counter close enough that their shoulders were touching, and whispered something in her ear. Before
Booshie
could react, because he was feeling pretty damn irrational at the moment,
Naggie
turned and pushed the guy away. The fucker took on this angry expression, said something else to her, and
Naggie
reared her arm back and brought her open palm to his cheek. The guy stumbled back, a look of shook on his face, and then slowly it morphed into rage. Before the situation could escalate into violence toward
Naggie
, which
Booshie
could tell the guy was about ready to hand out, he was moving toward her, and feeling the possessive side rise up like a hungry beast.

****

The guy that had just whispered in
Naggie’s
ear had said that he wanted to fuck her with his tongue. Normally
Naggie
was all about the raunchy, filthy sex, but this guy looked like he liked to get his way, no matter what, and couldn’t give two shits about the woman he was screwing.
Naggie
wasn’t all for that. He also couldn’t take no for an answer, and that was a big red flag for her. She may be tough, and have a mouth on her that rivaled a sailor’s, but no fucking way could she take on a guy when rage was running through him, not for long anyway.
Naggie
was not a prude, had done some pretty freaky shit in her time, but no way in hell was she about to let some little prick that she didn’t know come up to her and whisper those filthy things in her ear. He was drunk, but that wasn’t an excuse. Her hand stung from slapping him, and she realized in less than a couple of hours she had hit three people. She would have felt doubly liberated to have smacked this guy and put his dumb ass in its place, but it was clear he was not used to this kind of treatment from a woman. He was one of
those
men on the inside. He looked like one of those boy next door types, with the perfectly combed hair, tailored and starched clothes, and that Tommy Hilfiger scent surrounding him. So not
Naggie’s
type, but even if she had given him the time of day his raunchy drunk talk was not winning him any points.

“You trashy cunt.”

She chuckled, because it had been a while since she had been called a cunt. Her handprint was a red mark on his cheek. “Fuck off, prep.” She turned to talk to Bennie, but then he grabbed her arm and yanked her back around so she was staring at him. He still didn’t let her go. “You better fucking let me go before I smack you again and make you look like the little bitch you are.”

He bared his teeth at her, and just when she thought he’d have the balls to hit her in front of everyone, this looming shadow covered both of them. She turned and saw
Booshie
standing right beside them, this dark, deadly look on his face, and his gaze latched onto where the asshole still had a hold of her arm.

“Boy, you better fucking let go of her arm if you want to keep your hand.”

Booshie’s
voice actually had shivers working through her. If the prep had been smart he would have realized that
Booshie
was like The Hulk compared to him, and looking like he really would tear off the kid’s hand with the slightest provocation.

“Hey, this doesn’t concern you.” It was clear the kid was a hothead, and drunker than hell by the way he slurred his words, and clearly didn’t care if he lived or died. Prep took a step back, but ended up bumping into the guy beside him. That had the man turning around and shoving back.

“Watch it, asshole.”

The prep stumbled forward and right into her, knocked over the glass of water Ryan had insisted she have, and spilled the damn thing all over her. The coldness of it had her jumping up, but all that did was
have
the glass falling off the counter and shattering on the ground.

“You just asked for a whole lot of trouble, kid,”
Booshie
said, but the prep wasn’t
so
much as a kid as he was a twenty-something year old douche-bag.

The next series of events happened so fast
Naggie
couldn’t even wrap her head around them.
Booshie
had the guy by the scruff of the collar and yanked him away from her. He had him lifted off the ground so that only prep’s toes touched the floor. Everything seemed to grow still and quiet. The biker’s rage was tangible, and she knew
Booshie
was about to do some serious damage if things didn’t settle down. She didn’t want an all-out brawl.

“You dare to lay a hand on a woman?”
Booshie
said in a slow, even, but hard voice. That sound was even scarier than if he was yelling.

Naggie
saw the way
Booshie’s
knuckles turned whiter the longer he held onto the guy’s shirt.

“You actually put your fucking hands on her like you had the right to.”
Booshie
didn’t look affected aside from that deadliness that came from him. “In fact, if I didn’t know any better I would think you were thinking about hitting her.”

The cockiness on the prep’s face vanished as realization set in. “No harm.” He lifted his hand, trying to remove
Booshie’s
, but it was no use. Compared to the biker he looked like a child.

“You never put your hands on a woman unless she wants it, and it is clear that one didn’t.”
Booshie’s
face slowly started to turn fierce and horrifying, and she was actually starting to worry for the asshole that deserved what he was getting right now. “Clearly you’re as stupid as you look.” But before she could intervene
Booshie
let the guy go. Prep fell to the floor, but he only moved back a few steps and tired to suck in air.
Booshie
he took a step back, rolled his head around on his neck and then cracked his knuckles. She could tell he was the type of man that didn’t just walk away from an altercation, but then again he was a Vicious Bastard, and their reputations were hardcore. When he turned and looked at her she was stunned, speechless, and couldn’t even move. But
Booshie
had been right, the guy was stupid, because he charged and threw a sucker punch in
Booshie’s
side.

Even from where she stood she could tell that when the guy hit
Booshie
it was like slamming his fist into a concrete wall. And then it was like all hell broke loose as
Booshie
punched the guy right in the face. His head cocked to the side, and he fell backward and slid across the floor like he had been hit with a wrecking ball. Blood instantly spilled from his nose and mouth. The electricity in the room became charged, and the hairs on her arms stood on end.

“Holy fucking hell, girl.”

She looked at Bennie, not knowing what to say, but feeling this rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She nodded after Bennie spoke and then looked at the scene in front of her again.
Booshie
stormed over to prep again, bent down so he could haul the guy up by the neck, and punched him again. Blood covered prep’s lower face and his pale yellow polo. But then another biker came up, Tank, and one she knew was the Sergeant at Arms for The Vicious Bastards, and hauled
Booshie
back. He said something to the other man, low and fast, but
Booshie
still had his eyes on the guy he had beaten the hell out of. More preppy college kids came up and helped their friend off the floor, but at least they were smart enough to leave.