“Stupid slut,” he snaps, and Garrett hears it, but so do I.
Nobody gets to insult me. Spinning, I grab my knife from my thigh and yank his greasy hair back, holding the blade to his throat. “You ever insult me again, and it will be the last thing you do. Is that understood, shit for brains?” I snap.
He freezes, the scent of alcohol wrapping around me, and I feel his body tremble.
“When I let go, you’re going to apologise. You will say, ‘I’m sorry, almighty Roxy, I’m a meat-headed idiot with a small cock,’ and then you will pay for all our drinks tonight, won’t you?”
He nods, and I laugh as I slide my blade away and step back in case he tries anything. He stumbles to his feet and turns, his face pale as he looks at me.
“Say it.” I grin, tapping the blade on my thigh.
“I-I’m sorry, almighty Roxy, I’m a meat-headed idiot with a small cock—” He stumbles, his eyes flaring in panic.
“You will pay for all our drinks,” I prompt, and he nods rapidly.
“All your drinks, so sorry,” he calls again, as I turn with a grin to see Garrett smirking at me.
“Baby, where were you even keeping that blade?” he asks, his eyes dark with hunger as he runs his gaze down my body and my extremely tight dress. Grabbing his hand, I drag it up my thigh until he feels the sheath. He groans, his eyes closing for a moment. “Shit, Rox.”
I pull away, giggling. “Don’t hurt him, I took care of it.” Keeping his hand in mine, I tug him back to the table, where Diesel is watching me with a grin.
“Little Bird, that was so hot,” he murmurs, running his eyes to my knife. “You’re using that on me later.”
Laughing, I drop into his lap, knowing Garrett needs to keep his hands free. We watch the next girl as another bottle is dropped at our table. It’s champagne. I pop the cork and take a swig, toasting the guy I threatened at the corner table with it. He nods and looks away in fear.
Just then, a bouncer stops at our table. He takes a look at me and snorts. “Get backstage, girl.” He turns to my guys. “She’s ready to see you, follow me.”
Diesel stiffens against me. Oh fuck. I throw myself harder against him before he can kill this idiot, but then Garrett’s there in a flash. He’s so quick, I didn’t even see him get up. His fists move rapidly, and then the bouncer is on his knees, his nose and lip bleeding, both busted, and Garrett is standing over him angrily.
“What did you say about her?” he snarls, his voice low and rumbling.
I watch the bouncer’s gaze widen as he realises he royally fucked up. He tries to look over at me, but Garrett steps into his path, blocking his view. “Do not look at her, ever.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I thought she was a dancer. I’m really fucking sorry,” the man rushes out. A minute ago, he was a big, burly fucker who even I would have hesitated to take down. Now he looks like a scared, little boy when faced with Garrett. “Please, please, I’m so sorry,” he begs.
“You insulted her,” Garrett grinds out, and he smashes his fist into the guy’s face again.
I sip my champagne while I watch. He kinda deserved it, plus Diesel is still trying to get up, and if he joins in, the guy will die, which wouldn’t be good.
The bouncer falls to his stomach, and he tries to crawl away, but Garrett is there, pressing his boots to the guy’s hand and stomping down. The bouncer’s scream rings out loudly. The music cuts out, and the whole club freezes. Garrett doesn’t care, they’re untouchable.
“You insulted her,” he snarls again, as he stomps on his other hand before kicking him. “Get up.”
Shit. The bouncer stumbles to his feet, his hands held against his chest and tears tracking down his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please,” he beseeches with snot dripping from his nose.
Alright, he’s had his fun. I get up and, grabbing my knife, I press it to Diesel’s throat for a second. “Do not fucking move, or I swear I’ll never play with you again.”
He pouts but nods, taking the champagne from me as I slide my knife away and turn to Garrett just as he’s cocking back his fist again. I can see the fury vibrating through his body. He won’t stop, like when he’s in the ring, but we came here for a reason, not to beat up idiots.
I lay my hand on his back, and he stills, his head swinging to look at me with those dark eyes. “Let it go, big guy,” I murmur.
Just then, a female voice sounds near us. “What the fuck is happening here?”
We all turn to see the person it came from. She’s a tall woman, over six feet, with giant breasts. Seriously, what the fuck? They are huge and escaping her tight pink dress, which clings to her thick stomach and thighs. Her hair is red and puffed up like back in high school. Her lips are red, her eyes brown, and her face is covered in heavy makeup. She narrows her eyes but seems to hesitate when looking at both Vipers before she shakes it off.
This woman has big balls. I’ll give her that. She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Cher, what are you doing to my staff?”
Garrett straightens and glares at the man once more. “Go, before I change my mind.”
The bouncer doesn’t hesitate, he runs away quickly, and Diesel gets to his feet. They stand on either side of me. Her eyes run across them in more than a clinical sense, which makes me bristle, before they land on me. She purses her lips like she doesn’t like what she sees and tosses her hair again. “Nice to see you two, come back to my office.”
Wow, that bitch just ignored me. How fucking rude.
Diesel leans in closer. “Want me to kill her? Or hold her and you can?”
Laughing, I push him away, but he wraps his arm around me and follows after her as Garrett trails behind us again, always in protection mode. The woman leads us down a corridor next to the bar and into a door at the end which opens to an office. She perches on the desk, parting her thighs so we can all see up her dress.
Diesel guides me over to the sofa, leaning against the back wall, and yanks me down next to him. His hand plays with my hair while Garrett shuts the door and stands against it, his arms crossed. Laughing and still ignoring me, she walks over to him, shaking her hips and ass.
She reaches out to touch him, and I leap up, grabbing it before it can drag down his chest. Tightening my hand around her fingers, I narrow my eyes as she gasps in pain. “Do not touch him,” I warn, knowing he hates it, and yes, I’m a little bit jealous.
I push her away, and she shakes it off with a nervous giggle as she sits back on the desk. I tug Garrett to the sofa and drag him down next to me until I’m bracketed between them again. He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs quietly.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? I’m guessing since Ryder isn’t here, it’s not about the business?” she asks with a grin, her legs still parted. She drags her hand up her thigh to try and draw their eyes, but they don’t even twitch, which settles me.
“Yes,” Garrett snaps, obviously tired of her already. It makes sense, since she’s a woman using her sexuality and she almost touched him. He probably hates her. Diesel is too busy playing with my hair to notice, but he does snort at her actions.