She walked past once, slow as anything, clearly checking us out. Tight jeans, hips swaying, eyes like sin. She knew we were watching—she wanted us to.
On her way back, she didn’t hesitate. Came straight over, bold as brass.
“You three look like you’ve been waiting for me,” she said, standing there like she owned the bloody table.
I raised an eyebrow. “Cocky, aren’t you?”
She smiled, slow and filthy. “Only when I know I’m right.”
Ash moved to one side, and she slid in next to him—no invitation needed. Leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder, all confidence. Didn’t blink once.
“Bit of an unusual setup,” she said, eyes locked on me. “You the boss of this lot, or do they take turns?”
I smirked. “Depends who’s in the mood.”
Her hand landed on my thigh—firm, deliberate. “Good. I’m in the mood to lead.”
Dave let out a low breath, clearly enjoying the show. Ash looked like Christmas had come early. I wasn’t exactly complaining either.
She leaned in close, lips brushing my ear. “I’ve already decided I’m coming back with you. Question is—are your boys gonna behave, or am I gonna have to teach them?”
I laughed, throat tight. “They’re well-trained. But I reckon they’d enjoy misbehaving for you.”
She finished her pint in one go, stood up, and crooked her finger at me.
“Let’s go, then. I want the girl first.” |
