Illicit Behavior: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance(6)By: Nikki Wild
“Understood,” he nodded, his traces of cockiness gone. Instead, he seemed a little on edge.
No idea why.
The bikers were bothering me, after all.
“Got a bathroom?” Trent suddenly asked.
I pointed him towards the doorway around the other side of the bar. He slipped off of his stool and sauntered towards the hall.
This left me alone with the bikers. Their lecherous leader called me over, and I reluctantly strolled to his side with the check.
“Here you go, lass,” he chuckled, dropping a few twenties onto the tabletop. One flittered down to the floor, and I begrudgingly reached down for it.
I only realized the mistake just as his hand smacked roughly against my ass.
“Ow!” I called out, quickly hopping back up and glaring menacingly at them. “I said, ‘Don’t touch me.’ I don’t give a flying shit how drunk you are. You can’t do that.”
“Sorry, Darlin’. You’re just too damn pretty.”
“I’m cashing you out, and you’re getting out of my bar.”
The biker stood up swiftly, grabbing me by the arm. He pulled me deep into his embrace, his thick, alcoholic breath stinging my eyes. He was an old guy, but he was built strong and mean.
I struggled, but I couldn’t pull free.
“I don’t know about all that, sweetheart,” his gravelly voice rumbled. “I think you owe me and my boys a proper apology.” His thick lips curled into a disgusting smile. I tried to scream, and a rugged hand clamped around my mouth.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard scuffling from the bar. I never should have left her alone with them.
They were a pack of wild, drunken animals, and she was a young, sexy, defenseless girl.
There was no argument.
No questioning in my head.
I knew what I had to do and I acted.
The group had her pinned against the bar top. Judging by the muffled noises, a hand was clamped tightly over her lips. They were hungrily pulling at her miniskirt when the last one spotted me just a moment too late.
With a sickly crack, my fist connected with his face, sending the man stumbling backwards against the others.
Two of the assholes kept holding the poor girl down while the big one – probably their leader, by the looks of it – reeled forward with a roaring fist.
I sidestepped, tripping him into a table and sending the remnants of a beer splashing at my feet. Things were rapidly getting out of control. The bikers recovered quickly, lunging for me in unison.
Thinking fast, I stepped backwards but slipped on the wet floor. My head connected with a barstool, making me vulnerable just at the wrong time.
Someone grabbed me by the shirt as I tried to orient myself. A powerful fist smashed into my face, but I detached myself and head-butted the offender.
“Fuck!” The voice called out.
It sounded like the leader.
The other guy tried to lash at me as I clambered to my feet, but I ducked his strike. Using his weight to my advantage, I grabbed at his arm and knocked him off balance. Before he could regain footing, I drove his head straight down into the bar.
His skull connected with a resounding WHAM!
The leader was on top of me again, as he tried to get in a solid gut punch. I took one in the ribs before managing to push him back.
My hand brushed against a dirty glass. It was a stray tumbler, fostering the last few, forgotten sips of dark liquor.
Perfect, I thought to myself.
I smashed it hard against the side of his face.
“Goddammit!” He cried out as glass flew everywhere. “You fucking SHIT!”
I could hear a commotion from behind him. Lunging forward, I dove like a feral animal towards the two bikers still holding down the bartender.
She was kicking and fighting and had managed to bite the hand covering her face.
I aimed my weakened but effective punch at the distracted biker with the bitten hand, catching him just off-center. Stunned, he stumbled backwards against a low wall.
The bartender broke free from the other asshole, dodging around the rising leader and behind the counter.
Whoever this girl was, she was a quick and nimble little minx. She dove behind the bar.