Page 2 of Just One Night (Salvatore Brotherhood MC)

REID

I did not think I’d be seeing my ex-girlfriend’s best friend tonight, but here we are.

I only agreed to come out with the guys because they’d been bugging me about it for weeks.

And now I’m more than happy I came out because seeing Heather right now, with her tight little dress and perky round tits—I want to do bad things to her. Really bad things.

Her icy blue eyes are round and wide as she stares at me, shocked that I’m making my way to her. She’d always been pretty, but it seems that life has been good to her, making her drop dead fucking gorgeous now.

She doesn’t belong in a seedy bar like this one. She looks like she belongs on a rooftop party in New York, on the arm of some millionaire. Or maybe walking a red carpet with adoring fans screaming for her. Or on the cover of a magazine.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“Hey, Heather,” I purr as I stand in front of her, my voice low.

She inhales sharply as she stares up at me, her full lips parted slightly.

Her mouth moves, but no sound comes out.

I lean forward, resting my hands on the bar on either side of her, caging her in.

“You always had something to say, don’t go mute on me now. ”

“Reid,” she murmurs, and I grin as I pull away. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, lifting my brow and folding my arms over my chest. Her eyes track my movements, and I can’t help but flex slightly, letting her see my hard biceps shift under my cut. “You here alone?” I glance around, noting only the one glass.

She clears her throat primly and sits a little taller. And there she is—the girl I knew and grew up with. The girl who took no one’s shit but was also a little timid and sweet. Now though, maybe she’s still sweet, but timid? That seems to be a thing of the past.

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “Or maybe I’m on a date.” One side of my mouth tucks up in a smirk.

“That so?” I drawl, looking pointedly at her half-empty glass.

“Maybe,” she says again. “Your turn. Why are you here?”

“Some buddies invited me out,” I say, tilting my head back, using it to point at the guys. “Now, tell me the truth. Are you on a date?” I watch her delicate throat bob. My hand would make a perfect necklace for her.

“No,” she finally sighs, slumping slightly. “I just needed a drink.” She lifts her glass to me in salute, then takes a long drink, almost emptying it.

“Let me buy your next round,” I say as I slide onto the stool next to hers. Turning toward her, I cage her in with my knees. She shifts slightly, her thighs rubbing together as she leans her elbow on the bar.

“Aright,” she says, smiling. “But just one drink, then I’m leaving.”

“Sure,” I say, staring at her a moment too long before I wave the bartender over.

“Two of whatever she’s having.” The kid looks between us, his beady eyes lingering on her longer than I like.

So I wrap my hand around the stool between her legs and pull her effortlessly closer to me, my eyes glued to the guy.

Her hands shoot out to my thighs to steady herself and she makes a small squeaking sound.

The bartender nods a few times, his throat bobbing and eyes like saucers as I glare at him.

When he rushes away to fill our drinks, she smacks my shoulder and I slowly turn my head toward her, smirking.

Sliding my hand from the stool, I rest it on her upper thigh and play with the hem of her tiny, silky dress.

“You didn’t have to do that, “she says.

“Do what?”

“Pull me to you like that,” she hisses, her blonde brows bunching. She tries to push her stool away, but my hand tightens on her leg and she freezes.

“I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” I say.

“He can look at me however he wants,” she scoffs. I lift my brow at her and lean a little closer.

“No, he can’t,” I murmur as I brush some of her hair behind her shoulder.

“Why?” She breathes, her chest flushing pink.

“Because, tonight, I want you.” I smile when I feel her shiver against me.

Our glasses are set on the bar and I pull away, loving the way her cheeks are flushed.

I’m not sure why I got weird about him looking at her, it’s not like we’ve seen each other in years or stayed in contact even a little bit, but I want her.

I want to be inside her. I want to own her—I want to fucking possess her.

I take a small sip of the whiskey and laugh. It surprises me that this is what she chose to drink, but it really shouldn’t. She used to do the opposite of what people expected from her, and it seems that she still does.

“Who says I want you?” She scoffs and eyes me up and down. “Tonight, or ever?” When she lifts her glass, her hand is trembling. I slide my finger under her dress and run it back and forth, watching her breath hitch.

“I said you’re mine tonight, so you’re mine.”

“What makes you think I’d agree to that?” She says as she sets the glass down, glaring at me.

“Because you came out tonight looking for a lay,” I shrug, “I’m gonna be the one to give it to you.”

“What?” Her head rears back. “I—no, I came out for a drink.” I grin at her and drop my eyes to her tight, curvy body. I run my bottom lip through my teeth before looking at her again.

“Is that why you’re wearing this?” I ask as I move my hand from her leg to her waist, running my hand along the silky, red fabric. “Because you just wanted a drink ?” Her throat bobs again and the way her chest is heaving, it looks like she’s about to hyperventilate.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“See,” I lean forward, lowering my voice, “I think you’re lying. I think you wanted to go home with some guy tonight. And maybe you could’ve before I came in here, but now that I’m here, you’re mine. I’m not letting you leave with anyone else.”

“Why?” She says. “What if I don’t want you?” I shrug as I lean back and rest my arm along the bar, leaving my other one on her waist.

“You do,” I say arrogantly. She rolls her eyes, huffing out a breath, and my dick twitches.

“We both know I’d be the only one in this place that could satisfy you, princess.

I’m the only one here that could make you come.

And that’s what you want, right? To come all fucking night?

” Her full lips part, her eyes wide as she stares at me.

“You think highly of yourself,” she says.

“It’s because I know it’s true,” I say. “But if you’d rather take your chances with—” I tilt my head toward the bartender, “then be my guest.”

She flicks her eyes between us, her bottom lip going between her teeth as she thinks. When she locks gazes with me again, her face shifts into that sexy look she’d had when I first saw her. She grabs her glass and empties it before dropping it back to the counter.

Getting to her feet, I drop my hand from her waist as she grabs her little black purse and clutches it in front of her.

I watch her take a few steps away from me and my stomach sinks, thinking I’d fucked up.

But then she turns slightly toward me, one perfect blonde brow arched, a small grin on her lips, and says, “You coming?”