“Dalton Andrews?” He sought clarification, despite knowing he would look stupid. There was no way a famous actor and director would know those people. “The movie actor?”
Moon nodded. “Yeah. He’s married to T.A. He’s also Reaper’s brother-in-law.”
“Jesus Christ.” His adulation of his favorite actor had just been snuffed out. “Mick, Jewell wants a Black Velvet and a hamburger. Give me a shot of whiskey.”
Mick gave him a sympathetic glance before moving away.
Music began playing from the overhead speaker, and then Rory heard the slap of a burger being put on a grill.
From where he was sitting, he could see Jewell through the line of bottles. She was staring down at her drink morosely. He had felt the same sense of isolation coming from her, even when she was at the club.
As he looked at her now, every hesitation came to the forefront. How was he supposed to compete against The Last Riders? Damn.
Jewell was used to having a smorgasbord of men fulfill her needs. Luckily, he wasn’t afraid of a challenge. He had made big money as a gigolo because he knew how to make a woman want him. And a lesson he had learned early on from women was that quantity wasn’t the most important to them; it was quality.
Removing his bulky sweater, Rory laid it on the stool next to him at the same time the bar door swung open and Evie strode in with a line of The Last Riders’ women trailing after her.
“Fuck,” Moon groaned.
Moon was right; there wasn’t a male Last Rider among them.
“Mick, call the cops.” Rory recognized the look on Evie’s face. She meant business, and she was also wearing a Last Rider jacket.
“Knox won’t come. His wife is right behind Evie.”
“There has to be someone who …” Rory began to stand, shaking off Moon’s restraining hand.
“The only one who would willing come is Greer Porter, and he don’t take credit cards.”
Rolling his sleeves to his biceps, he asked Mick to play something slower.
“Why? So you can see them beating the crap out of each other in slow motion?” Despite his hangdog expression, Mick changed the music.
“Don’t forget you’re the one paying for the damage.”
Rory flipped Mick a finger then loosened the belt on his jeans, letting the jeans ride the curve of hips.
Moon raised his eyebrows at him. “You can’t fuck them all.”
“I don’t have to fuck them all. I just have make them all want to fuck me.” He unbuttoned his collared shirt that he had worn underneath the sweater.
As Paloma Faith’s song “Only Love Could Hurt Like This” played, Rory walked back across the bar toward Jewell, passing the table where The Last Riders’ women were grouped around the ones who had been harassing Jewell.
One by one, the women fell silent as he passed. His eyes licked at each woman at the table before moving on.
Turning, he made his way to Jewell, who had turned on her stool to see what he was doing. As he drew closer, he saw red shoot up to Jewell’s face.
Placing his hand on the bar behind her, he dipped his head low enough to whisper in her ear, “Is it against The Last Riders’ rules for you to dance with me?” He rubbed the stubble of his beard against her jaw, like a big cat wanting to be stroked.
“No …” Jewell croaked out.
Straightening, he took her hand to link her fingers with his. Then he started walking.
As they passed the women, he heard the crazy one call out, “He can hurt me—”
A loud humph came from the table, and Rory looked back to see Diamond holding her hand as if it hurt and Crazy Bitch looking stunned into immobility.
Reaching the dance floor, Rory twined Jewell’s hand and arm around him before allowing his hand to release hers. He pressed himself closer to her until his hips fit snugly to her, then started slowly dancing. Taking her free hand, he linked their fingers together then twisted her arm behind her back as he sultrily danced with her. Using his other hand, he slipped it under her sweatshirt to run his hand down her spine.
Feeling Jewell press back against him, he gave her an erotic smile. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
“Mine got wet, and Rachel’s were too big for me.”
Slightly twisting her arm higher, he plastered her breasts to his chest then buried his face in the side of her throat and breathed in her scent. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she whispered.
“I’m going to dance with you until all you can think about is having my dick in your pussy,” he growled the promise into her neck.
“I’m already there.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rory lifted his head to see she had closed her eyes tightly. “Are you going to change your mind when we go back to the club?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go and let you eat your burger before we take off.” Rory pulled away from Jewell to lead her off the dance floor.