“I’ve looked...”

“Well.” She wiggles her brows. “Enjoy yourself.”

Sighing, I turn and walk around the bar and over to Spike’s table. He looks up at me when I stop, and his eyes slide over the outfit I’m wearing. Yes, I know, it’s revealing. My black skirt is short, and when I say short...I mean short. My top sits above my belly button, so basically, most of my body is on view for perverts to gawk at. It’s Job of the Year, I tell you.

“Nice outfit,” he grumbles.

“What can I get you boys?” I ask, ignoring him.

“You can come over here and sit on my lap.” One of the bikers grins.

Spike shoots him a glare. “Fuckin’ pipe down, Muff.”

The man named Muff, grins. “Just givin’ her a chance to take a break.”

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t take a break.” I smile sweetly. “Now, drinks?”

Spike is watching me, I can feel his gaze, and it’s causing little shivers to run through my body. God, I hate that he constantly has my body coming to life. Fucker.

“You seein’ anyone, sweet thing?” Muff asks.

I smile at him; it’s kind of hard not to. He’s sweet...in a creepy, cute kind of way. He grins back at me. He’s not a bad looking man. He wouldn’t be a great deal younger than Spike, and it’s possible he’s even the same age. I’m fairly sure Spike is around twenty-nine.

Muff has a youthful face, and long red hair. He kind of reminds me of one of those Scottish men.

“Not right now.” I grin.

“Well, keep me in mind yeah?”

“She ain’t keepin’ you anywhere, now shut the fuck up,” Spike growls at him.

Muff puts up his hands. “Whoa, Prez, just playin’.”

“Get us some beers,” Spike growls, giving me a hard look.

I glare at him. “Where are your manners, Danny?”

The boys burst out laughing, and Spike’s eyes flare angrily.

“I’ll show you fuckin’ manners in a minute. Don’t fuck with me, Ciara. Get us some beers.”

I cross my arms and stare at him, refusing to move until he asks nicely. He crosses his arms and glares right back.

Fine, two can play at this game. I turn, walk to the bar and get some beers, then I return...minus one. I give all the guys a beer, except Spike. I smile sweetly at him, and just as I’m about to turn away I say, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that manners get you everywhere?”

I grin the entire way back to the bar, and even more when Spike has to walk up and get served by Jenny, who, mind you, thinks all her Christmas’ have come at once. My grin widens as I watch him stomp back to the table. Completely satisfied with myself, I turn and continue serving.

I know by the amount of people piling in, that the night is going to be a big one. The hens are already chatting up random men that walk in. A few of them have sauntered over to Spike’s table and fluttered their eyelids. I catch a glimpse of Spike laughing, and pulling one of them onto his lap. He gives me a smirk when I see his eyes on me. Oh Spike, you’re playing with fire.

“Another round for Spike’s table,” Jenny says ten minutes later, sliding me a tray.

I pick it up, and walk over. Spike’s hands are up Blondie’s skirt. Screw him for being such a jerk. He’s rubbing me up the right way, and clearly...her the right way, too. She’s clutching him, running her lips over Spike’s neck. Our eyes meet for the briefest moment, and I hope he sees nothing in my gaze.

I grin, putting the beer down and peering around the room. Joe is out back; five minutes won’t matter. I lean over the table, knowing my breasts are popping out enough in my top to send most men over the edge. Muff’s, eyes widen. I grin at him.

“See something you like?”

He grins, flashing me two cute dimples. “You know I do, princess.”

I grin back. “I could use that break now. You want to join me outside?”

Nodding, Muff stands and slides out of the booth. Spike is glaring at me, I can feel his eyes burning holes into the side of my head, but I don’t once look. I take Muff’s hand and yell out to Jenny that I’m going on break, then I head outside with him.

We take a seat at the smokers’ table, and he lights one up, offering me one. I’m not a big smoker, but every now and then I don’t mind enjoying one. I take the smoke, and lean forward and let him light it for me. I notice the tattoos running up his arms: they’re quite colorful and extensive. I take hold of his wrist and inspect them.

“You’ve got some great work here.”

“Yeah, took a long time to get those tatts how I wanted them.”

“I like them.”

“Yeah?”

I release his arm and grin up at him. “Yeah. So, tell me, what’s your real name?”

He gives me a lazy half-smile. He really is an attractive man. It surprises me to see him alone. “Brian.”

I smile. “Brian...how did you get Muff?”

He laughs hoarsely. “You know what a muff is, princess?”

I giggle. It’s unexpected and a little girly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that’s how I got my nickname...I got a thing for...well...muff.”

I snort and roll my eyes, taking a deep pull of the cigarette. “Don’t all men?”

He laughs again, and leans back against the wall. “Yeah, but not the way I like ‘em. I could spend hours with my face buried in a muff, hours and hours. I couldn’t care less if the girl didn’t touch me once, so long as I got to taste her over and over again.”




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