Page 6 of Quadruplets for the Vipers (Never Just One #3)

Leah

Oh, good grief, there are two more of them…

I felt their presence before I saw them. It was like the air in the room shifted. I felt hot as their eyes were on me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention.

When I finally dare to look, I see Axel and Knox, more devastatingly gorgeous than I recalled.

They aren’t alone. With them are two other men, the polar opposites of each other.

The only similarity is that they both have tattoos.

One is blond with the all-American good looks of a football team captain.

With a cocksure grin and swaggering walk, he’s a man who is well aware of his attractiveness.

The other is lean and sinewy as opposed to the broad bulk of the blond.

With a crooked nose from being broken one too many times and a large, angry scar that runs down the length of his face, he’s by no means conventionally attractive, yet there’s a dangerous, captivating energy that draws you in.

I manage to stumble my way through taking their order, aware of their intense focus on me —apart from Axel, that is, who seems determined to ignore me entirely.

I try to tell myself that it doesn’t bother me, but even so, I subtly try to draw his attention, standing just a little straighter, my eyes subconsciously flicking over to him.

Knox teases me as he orders, I get the impression I’ll never know what’s about to come out of his mouth, perhaps he isn’t even sure half the time.

When I return with their drinks, I notice that the prospect has scurried away.

It’s clear from the body language and the jealous looks of the other patrons in the bar that these four men are big deals in the Steel Vipers.

In the week I’ve been here I still haven’t quite gotten my head around the hierarchy.

“Here we go, guys. Can I offer you anything to eat?” I say with a forced jovial voice that sounds alien to me.

“Are you on the menu?” the blond jokes, biting his lip and slowly smiling in a way that makes me want to smack the grin off his face while also tearing off his shirt.

“Why, so you can spend five minutes eating before you decide you’re too full?” I snap back. “Guys like you talk a good game, but in my experience, the jock types are only out for their own satisfaction and rarely even know where a woman’s clit is.”

“Trust me, I know where it is,” he retorts with the confidence of a man who knows he can prove it.

He might be hot, but I know his type, too cocky for his own good. All bark and no bite.

“Sure you do, cowboy,” I reply sarcastically.

Knox laughs delightedly, enjoying the unpredictability.

There’s a tense moment where I wonder if I’ve gone too far and the man is going to get angry. But then he, too, laughs.

“You’re funny. I’m Jace,” he says, holding out his hand.

“Leah,” I reply, shaking it, ignoring how strong and masculine his hands are. I turn my attention to the scarred man. “I don’t think we’ve met yet,” I say, extending my hand to him.

He looks surprised to be addressed as if he’s usually overlooked in favor of his friends. His gray eyes fix on mine, and I don’t even notice anything else. His eyes are like a window to his tortured yet kind soul.

“People call me Rider,” he replies, his voice low and so soft I have to strain to hear him.

His fingers are long and slim, the delicate hands of a pianist or painter. It’s unexpected, a softness to a man who is otherwise all sharp edges.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rider,” I reply genuinely, holding his gaze for a moment and giving him a warm smile.

“Well, if there’s nothing else I can get you guys, I’ve got to get back to work,” I add.

“Do a shot with us!” Knox demands, jumping up to stand next to me.

He’s close enough that I can smell the grease from his bike and the sweet, salty scent of his skin. I have the random urge to lick the exposed spot on his neck where there’s no tattoo.

What the hell has gotten into me? Is this pregnancy hormones?

He’d probably delight in the strangeness of such an act, his impulsivity is infectious. I shake that thought away and try and pull myself together. “Uh, no, thanks… I don’t drink,” I lie, daring to look over at Axel, wondering if he’ll help me out here without giving away the real reason I can’t.

His eyes slide past me as he notices me looking. Fine. If he wants to pretend nothing happened between us and ignore me, that’s on him, I think, feeling wounded nevertheless.

“Come on, you not gonna join us?” Jace teases, leaning back in his chair with his arms and legs spread wide.

I get a glimpse of a large bulge in his jeans, and I immediately look away, my cheeks burning.

I can tell if I give in on this, it’s a slippery slope.

I need to keep my distance from these men.

Especially Axel. I don’t know what it is about him that keeps pulling me in.

I’m not usually the type to get obsessed over a guy after one encounter.

Not that I’m particularly experienced in that department.

“Not when I’m working,” I retort with a roll of my eyes. “Have fun, gentlemen,” I say as I pick up my tray and sashay away.

I spend the rest of the night trying my hardest to avoid looking over in their direction.

Only allowing the occasional glimpse to see if they need more drinks and taking them over when they do.

Luckily, it’s busy, so I don’t have to pretend I’m making excuses not to talk and to get away from their table as quickly as possible.

Throughout the evening, I see several women, who I’m told bikers refer to as club bunnies, come up to the guys.

I try to ignore the irrational green-eyed monster that flares up at the sight of one of them fawning over Axel.

Axel ignores her and grunts in her general direction until she gives up and leaves.

That gives me some satisfaction, at least it’s not just me he’s being an ass toward.

The women ignore Rider, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

Knox and Jace enjoy the attention, flirting back and allowing the girls to sit on their laps.

I remind myself that I don’t know these guys, I have no claim to them, nor can anything happen between us.

As the night gets rowdier, a couple of the drunker, more brazen club girls decide to initiate a game of strip poker.

I try not to ogle as Knox removes his first item of clothing.

He goes for the thing you’d least expect someone to remove first—his pants.

He puts his boots back on, leaving him in his boots, t-shirt, vest, and a pair of tight underpants that show off his impressively large bulge.

As I’d guessed, his legs are also works of art adorned with ink.

He catches me looking and flashes me a grin.

“Careful with those four, a nice girl like you—I doubt you could handle them all, and they’re known to share,” another waitress tells me when she notices me watching as we bus tables.

“What do you mean, share?”

She giggles, “See, you’re too sweet and innocent for this place. If you’re lucky enough that they don’t find any other girls up for the fun, then, well… you know. All four of them… just one of you…”

My mouth drops open, and I can’t help but look back at them.

Even as I tell her I’m not interested in being with any men, I can’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like.

It’s rare I’m attracted to a man, let alone four at the same time.

The thought never occurred to me that I could be with four men at once.

The idea seems delightfully taboo and undeniably hot. Even if it is only a naughty fantasy.

They’re totally forbidden; it’s never going to happen, but a girl can dream…

***

I’m closing the bar. There’s no one left except for the group still playing strip poker.

I ignore their laughter, the women’s giggles, high-pitched and irritating, and focus on my job.

I head into the back area to lock up the storeroom.

As I return, I don’t see the others, they must have taken the party home.

With a sigh, I continue to tidy up behind the bar.

A noise behind me startles me, and I whirl around to find Axel standing right behind me, watching me with naked desire in his eyes. He’s shirtless, and his long hair is loose. He looks like a Viking ready to go to battle.

“Jesus, you made me jump!”

“Do I scare you?” he asks, circling closer to me, so close my skin tingles as if he’s physically touching me.

“A little,” I admit. I don’t say it’s my attraction toward him that scares me the most. “You didn’t go home with the club bunnies?”

“We told them to leave,” he purrs.

“Why?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It’s been driving me wild ever since,” he says, lazily stroking my hair back off my face.

My breath hitches, and I look up at him, willing him to kiss me again. “Me too,” I reply huskily.

It’s all it takes for him to kiss me again, even more passionately than before. He trails scalding kisses down my neck, and I moan in anticipation. I lose myself in the kiss as he lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist.

When we finally come up for air, I’m panting and hungry with desire, and it takes me a moment to realize that the others are there.

I yelp in surprise, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught as I spring to my feet and put some distance between us.

But the others don’t seem phased. If anything, they seem as if this is exactly what they were expecting to find, and they like it.

“What are you guys… uh, you came back?” I offer lamely.

Knox comes over, he’s still just in his open vest, boots, and underwear. It would look ridiculous on anyone else, but he looks like a goddamn stripper.

“We never left,” he replies.