“This little bow-nita is our friend for the night.” He wags his brows. “If you catch my drift.”
I ball my hands into tight fists and grit my teeth. “Does she have a name?”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, man. It’s… uh…”
Dipshit doesn’t even know her name.
“It’s Serenade,” the one I haven’t met yet says smugly.
“No, it’s not,” dipshit two—Cliff—argues.
“Is, too.”
“Nah, man, it totally is, right, baby?”
As if coming out of a trance, Seraphine blinks and turns to face the idiota. “Sure, I’m whoever you want me to be.”
Her words sound like they’re ants trudging through molasses, slow and heavy.
“Seraphine!” I bite out her name, my tone sharper than I intended for it to be.
Her eyes widen at the sight of me. “Mmmm-Mateo,” she practically moans my name.
“I knew you had it wrong!” Cliff shouts, pulling Seraphine out of his friend’s arms and into his. It takes my all not to throttle him when I see his thumb dip below the waistband of her jeans.
“You know her?” Jason asks, stepping slightly in front of her, like he has some sort of claim to her.
“I do.” I take a step closer. “She’s a friend”—I arrange my lips into a smirk, even though I’m not really feeling it—“a really good friend.” I should feel bad for playing up our relationship, but I don’t. Not even a little, because God only knows what these bastardos have planned.
“Oh, yeah?”
As fast as lightning, I reach out and steal her away from Cliff. She throws her arms around my neck and squeals at the sudden motion. “Whoa!” She looks up at me and tries batting her lashes—though, it looks more like she’s trying to tap out a message in Morse code with her eyes.
“You good, mariposita?”
A little sigh slips past her lips as she leans into me, locking her arms around my middle. “You smell so good.” She presses her face into my chest and breathes in deeply. “Like after a storm and sweaty sex.”
“Ay Dios mio,” I mutter under my breath, trying to stop her roaming hands.
Dipshit number three chuckles. “Looks like our good time just became yours, man.”
Jason elbows his friend, but he keeps talking.
“You gonna baby her like you do our trucks? Or maybe be a little more rou—”
I snap. Well, more accurately, his head snaps back after my fist connects with his jaw. “Tu verga caida pedazo de mierda!” I roar, winding my arm back to hit him again.
“What the fuck?” Cliff shouts, stepping up to me with his chest bowed out, like I won’t knock his ass out, too.
I continue going off, switching between Spanish and English as my emotions get the better of me.
“Jesus Christ, man!” Jason yells, putting himself between me and his friends, knowing good and well I won’t lay a hand on him. “Chill the fuck out and speak fucking English. You’re in America.”
I twist my head down and to the side until my neck cracks. “You want to know what I was saying?”
Seraphine wiggles in my arms, giggling to herself. “So hot, always speak Spanish.”
Ignoring her, I plow straight ahead. “I said you and your friends are pathetic, limp-dicked pieces of shit. You gotta drug a girl to get some action? Pathetic.”
“Now hold on,” Jason says, sounding just like his smooth-talking judge father. “Where on earth did you get the notion that we drugged her? Seems more likely she overindulged, doesn’t it? And take a look at her outfit. Dressed like that, she’s asking for trouble.” He clicks his tongue at me. “If anything, you should thank us for taking such good care of your girl. God only knows what trouble might have befallen her without us.”
While unspoken, the threat in his words is clear. If I lay a finger on him, he’ll call his dad. If I report him and his friends to the authorities, it’ll be my word against his—and the word of tatted-up, brown-skinned mechanic against that of a college-educated, richer than God white boy with a judge for a dad… yeah, the math isn’t too hard.
“Thanks, then.” I grind out the words, wishing like hell I could knock his punk-ass out without a hefty fine and probable jail sentence. “We’ll be on our way.”
I steer Seraphine away from the crowd of onlookers, catching Desi’s eye as we pass her. She nods before she and her group of friends continue on their way.
By the time we make it to the parking lot, Seraphine’s practically rubbing her body against mine like a cat in heat, mumbling God knows what under her breath.
“Did you drive here?” I ask, my voice harsher than I intended.
She releases me from her hold and spins to face me. Her eyes are the size of saucers, and her lips are working a mile a minute. Her lips part as if to answer me, but instead a soft sigh escapes her lips and she reaches a hand up to rub at the scruff on my face.