Page 93 of Second Sets Omnibus

Rad grins at me when he throws this shirt off and tosses it onto the stage. I smirk when he winks at me, wiping away the sweat from his brow. I’m sure if he had it his way, he’d be naked by now instead of in his jeans. Judging by the thirsty shrieks from the front of the stage, I’d say his fangirls wish for it, too. Too bad, suckers, that’s mine later. Every girl in the crowd shrieks when Rad flexes his pecs and bangs on the drums with more force than necessary, putting on a show for the crowd.

“Hey there!” a deep voice says from below me, tapping my ankle with his calloused finger.

I frown. “Yeah?” I ask, stepping back and jumping down behind the bar. “Can I help you with something?” I ask, leaning over to hear him over the loud music.

He grins wide, exposing his yellowing teeth. With a nod, he taps the bar, leaning in closer. His crystal blue eyes check every inch of me that he can see. Disgust eats away at my flesh, but I hold my composure. I’m professional and all, even when I want to shrink away.

Alarm bells activate in my mind, blaring a siren to run away, and I’m suddenly very aware of everything around me. But just because the pretty boy with yellow teeth gives me the damn willies doesn’t mean he’s going to harm me. But my momma always told me to trust my gut, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“Give me two beers and your number,” he says when another equally intimidating man walks up beside him. They both stare down at me with a grin.

“Beer, sure. My number, hell no,” I spit, trying to hold my damn tongue, but she always has a mind of her own.

The man turns up the charm, brightening his smile. “Come on, beautiful. A nice bartender like you could use a little something like me,” he says in a gravelly tone, which I’m sure most girls fall to their knees for.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m not interested. But here’s your beer. That’ll be twelve ninety-nine,” I say, holding my hand out after setting down his beers.

“Come on,” his buddy says, grabbing my wrist tightly.

“There is no come on about this,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to reign in my anger. “But if you don’t let my hand go, we’ll have some serious problems.” I raise a brow when hesneers at my words and tightens his grip on me, attempting to pull me closer.

“Whatcha gonna do?” he teases, trying to pull at me again.

“This,” I hiss, whipping out my knife and flicking it open in one move. The man’s eyes widen when I hold the tip against his precious fingers, dreaming of cutting them off one by one.

“Get your hands the fuck off her,” Kieran’s deep, growly voice comes through the microphone, sending chills down my spine.

Every eye in the bar swings in my direction, widening at the sight of my knife digging into grabby-man’s fingers. At the sound of Kieran’s second growl, every man in the bar takes their hands off whatever woman they showed up with. Screams erupt for the asshole to take his hands off me, and some even attempt to take him away from the bar, but it does nothing but encourage him to cling to me harder. He sneers in my direction, not deterred by Bert screaming from the front door, unable to make it through the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the entire situation unfold.

“I’m coming!” Bert growls over the roar of the crowd.

“Don’t worry!” I shout to Bert, who grunts his disapproval at my nonchalant attitude. Bringing my attention back to the man of the hour, I focus on the digit suffering beneath my blade. “I can cut your fingers off one by one.” I’m challenging him. Would I cut off his fingers for funsies? Uh, yeah. Just for the simple fact, he’s touching me. Fuck the cops. This is self-defense. He won’t let go and keeps leering at me like I’m his favorite Sunday brunch. I’m no biscuit and gravy meal, pal. So, fuck off.

He smirks again until I dig the tip further into his finger, drawing blood and watching with glee as it pools on the wooden bar top. Movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye, and I smirk as two overbearing figures come into view with deep scowls and clenched fists. My heart gallops in my chest as they inch closer and closer, pushing through the crowd of peopleand shoving them aside with a possessive vibe wafting off every inch of them.

“You bitch,” he hisses, but before he gets a chance to do anything else, he’s yanked back by the very possessive assholes I’ve come to enjoy.

“I believe she said no fucking touchy,” Asher growls, pulling the scumbags' face into his. “You tell him no, Little Brat?” Holy hotness, Batman. Asher looks at me with a kindling fire sparkling in his eyes, ready to pummel this douche into the ground.

I say, bury him.

“Definitely said don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss, climbing over the bar and grabbing our beat-up wooden baseball bat for more protection. I can’t go around stabbing everyone who touches me, but a friendly knock to the teeth will help.

“Sometimes guys like this just need a little reminder.” Before my eyes, my panties melt when Asher connects his forehead to the yellow-toothed offender and knocks him back a step.

Asher grins, rubbing his forehead as his opponent stumbles around. Fuck! As hot as this is, I can’t let them fight in my damn bar.

“Back off,” I say, putting a hand on Asher’s chest, forcing him to stand still.

“This is where you say thank you, Asher,” he snaps, staring daggers at me with a heaving chest. His wild eyes glare at the offenders with pure hate, and he’s ready to lunge at them again to finish the job.

“Asher, Daddy,” I murmur half-jokingly, running my fingers down his jaw and drawing his attention to me. “I appreciate what you did.” I swallow hard when his fingers wrap around my wrist, holding my fingers against his jaw. “They scared the shit out of me,” I breathe my confession with careful words. “So, thank you.” Every ounce of vulnerability leaks from my voice,and he nods. “But I can’t let you fight in here.” No matter how hot it was. I swear those images will bleed into my dreams forever. The way his forehead smashed into that fucker’s face, knocking him back.

“I told you, Little Brat. No one touches what’s ours.” He gives me a firm nod, squeezing my wrist with reassurance. “Whoever you need me to beat, I’ll fucking end them.”

Be still my beating heart.

“You good?” Kieran asks through several heaved breaths, peering around the circle that formed around us.