Party Foul (Crow Bar Brute Squad Book 1) Page 2
She blinked several times, and Levi detected a slight hint of a smile on her pouty bottom lip. “I came here on my own.”
Levi gave in to the humming, magnetic force between her body and his, and drew closer. She was a short little thing. He was now so close she had to look up to meet his gaze.
“Guess your ‘guy’ doesn’t do a very good job of keeping an eye on you.”
Was it a little bit of a sexist thing to say? Sure. Did it get a reaction out of her that was kinda hot? Absolutely.
She blinked her eyes several times as she inched closer to him. “I do what I want.”
That was not a challenge. That was an invitation. Suddenly the thousands of taut muscles in Levi’s body cranked even tighter, in both anticipation and caution.
Coppery flecks in her brown eyes glinted in the sickly yellow security lamp that illuminated the alley. The tiny pearls in her earlobes glowed. Every part of her deflected or morphed all the unpleasantness around them. He could only smell her perfume and not the usual stench of trash mixed with beer and booze that permeated the alleyway. This girl carried an energy about her that drew him in, and now that he was looking at her he couldn’t look away. Like a visitation from one of the saints or angels his grandmother still believed in, this girl’s presence defied the gloom of the world around them.
She didn’t look scared anymore. She looked like she was waiting for him to ask more questions, pull more answers out of her.
He should be more careful. Those north side rich girls once in a while liked to slum it down here in Dockside. Some of them did it on a dare and some just liked to play dangerous.
At least her eyes weren’t leaking anymore. Her tears had conjured something out of him that made him deeply uncomfortable. Sympathy? Protectiveness? Levi only possessed those feelings insofar as it allowed him to do his job to look after customers.
He wasn’t going to let a poor little rich girl get under his skin, no matter how used to getting her way she was.
“I’ll wait with you, make sure nobody messes with you.”
She nodded, smiled, and reached out to touch his forearm. “Thank you.” The press of her hand on his leather jacket, her soft words, spoken too close, zapped him.
She had felt it too. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red and her eyes darted to the bricks beneath their feet.
Easy, big guy.
He was curious why she wasn’t making a move to wait out on the curb, in front of the bar. Alleys were no place to hang out, even with a bouncer having your back. “So. You wanna wait out front for your boyfriend or what?”
She looked from the ground to Levi and her cute mouth formed a slow smile. “No.”
“Good,” Levi blurted, prompting a smirk from the woman. “I mean,” he corrected, “he’s an asshole for letting you come all this way.”
Her smile, though shy, was full. “And what do you mean by ‘all this way’?”
He glared down at her; he had to let her know that once she got back to the other side of the river, she should never come back. The dock workers were about to change shifts and no northsider, male or female, who knows what’s good for them, wanted to be here when that happened. Most of those crews knew how to behave; but they were rough. They talked rough, partied hard, and didn’t take kindly to anyone unfamiliar filling a chair at the place.
Instead, Levi focused on the radiance in front of him and absorbed every detail he could see. “Look at you. Can’t get more Shoreline than you.”
Bingo. He’d guessed right. Her eyes reacted immediately.
“How did you—”
He towered over her now, his eyes traveling up and down her body. “Real leather handbag from River Drive, silk scrunchie, stainless steel water bottle with a DeTour Pier logo on it.”
Her cheeks flushed. Levi had struck a chord with that one. DeTour was the private pier. Not the public Newcastle Pier, where the tourists all went, nearest to the amusement park. DeTour was the one you had to pay to walk on. And that was before you even get the privilege of paying exorbitant rates for the quickest ferry to Lee Island, which used to be home to middle class local folks who commuted to Newcastle for work. That island life was now a privilege of the wealthy elite.
Levi worked hard to rein in the sneer in his voice when he said this.
Her eyebrows rose in interest—or challenge. “Wow. You’re pretty smart for a bouncer. You shoulda been a detective.” He could see by her face she instantly regretted saying that.
Typical, he thought. “What the fuck does that mean?”
She looked away to the side and bit her lip. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah you did,” he said, reaching up to touch her face, but stopping halfway. “I’m just a meathead Docksider and you came down here to have a little fun pretending to be casual and shit.”
“No,” she said. “You can read where I’m from, but don’t you dare read my motives.”
He clicked his jaw. This chick is two kinds of trouble. Denying she’s just here to get her rocks off, and enjoying getting me riled up. She has no idea what I’m even like riled up, but she’s aiming to find out.
“How long until your guy gets here?” He cursed himself even as he said it. He meant to sound impatient for her to get out of his sight, but it came out as if he’d been asking for a quickie in the alley.
The tender skin of her throat jumped when she swallowed. “Five minutes.”
He grunted. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Slumming it for the night. Just like I thought.”
The girl aimed her chin up at him. “No. I came here to get away from people so I could study.”
“If it’s peace and quiet you want for studyin’, you came to the wrong place. You got real lucky tonight.”
She slightly gnawed on the inside of her top lip. “Or maybe I’m about to. I like watching men fight.”
Levi should have kept his mouth shut instead of saying, “That what you have to think about so your boyfriend can manage to get you off? Guys pounding each other?”
Her sexy mouth went from open to full-on gape. “You’re bad. I like you.”
He scoffed. “I ain’t your entertainment. Boxing ring’s next door.”
She closed her mouth and eyed him like he was certifiable. “It’s closed at this hour.”
“Always somebody sparring in there,” he said.
She lifted one perfectly shaped honey-colored eyebrow. “Maybe I like it with gloves off.”
Oh my fucking god. Get away from her now. She’s into some kink and she’s probably going to try to drag you into some weird fight club with follow-up sex or something.
And then Levi’s brain immediately went to a place where a fight-then-sex club sounded pretty fun, and he wished it was real.
“I’ve broken up enough bar brawls at my place of employment to know it ain’t as cool as you think it is,” he said.
She replied, lifting her chin defiantly. “That why it says Brute Squad on the back of your shirt?”
“You been watching me?”
“The size of it is kinda hard to miss. The bright yellow lettering, I mean.”
“It’s a nickname somebody gave the bouncers, and it stuck.”
She nodded with interest. “Get into a lot of fights, do you?”
“Like I said. Rowdy place full of people acting like assholes and trying to start shit.”
“Crow Bar is Skirmish City Center is it? Cool. Can’t wait to come back to see that.”
What am I doing, hovering so close I can breathe in the scent of her fruity shampoo? Do not engage with her little game. Do. Not. “I like to think of it more as Melee Metropolis,” he replied, unable to keep his top lip from twitching in mild amusement.
She laughed. “Kerfuffle Corner?”
Levi had to use every muscle in his face to keep from laughing. “The Borough of Brouhaha,” he said.
The little angel looking up at hi
m and laughed even harder, her face letting go of the tension and fear he’d seen there a moment ago. Levi pursed his lips, fighting against the smile that threatened to bubble up, destroying any attempt to scare her away.
“You’re funny,” she said.
Levi’s body moved before his brain could stop him, and he had her backed up against the exterior wall of the bar. “Jokes turn you on too, little girl?”
She opened her mouth to answer that question. As for Levi, his big hand planted on the rough bricks, he angled his face down, down, down until their lips almost met.
“I’m not a little girl. I’m a grown-ass woman, so I’d appreciate it if you knocked that shit off.”
He moved his face back a centimeter as he spoke, just barely brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re absolutely right. You are most definitely…”
He bent his head down and sniffed her neck, savoring her small intake of breath. And then he did something he really shouldn’t have done, which was to lean back a little, raise his nose in the air, and inhale slowly, like a tracker in the woods trying to pick up a scent.
“A grown woman.”
He watched her lips swell slightly. All he had to do was kiss her, and it would be good. Fuck, he knew it would be great. But that would be a mistake. She would ensnare him with that sweet mouth. He had no right.
She didn’t reply, only stared in rapt anticipation, waiting to see what he would do next. Once again he leaned in close and spoke into her ear, watching the skin of her neck grow tiny bumps as his breath washed over her. “You talk like a woman, dress like a woman, smell like a woman. You get all hot and slippery like a grown-ass woman who knows what she wants, too?”
He waited for her to meet his lewd question with a Fuck you, asshole. That’s how a true Newcastle broad would answer when getting hit on by a meathead such as himself. That’s how she should answer, if she knew what was good for her.
Her small body felt warm against his, even separated by his leather and her wool coat. The curve of her breasts pressed into his ribs.
Her pink tongue poked out and wet her lips. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
She’d done it. That was the trip wire and he was triggered. There he was, kissing her, falling face first into the endless source of honey of her mouth. His hand that had been choking Jerry Walls a minute ago was now holding him steady against the bricks, but this hot little smartass sucked his soul into a black hole from which he knew on some level that he would never return.
Her lips yielded against his hard mouth. She tasted like some kind of berries that used to grow wild in the wooded lot behind his childhood home. Raspberries, he thought it was. Her mouth opened to him at the slightest swipe of his tongue. He didn’t know her name, but her welcoming tongue told stories and her tender lips made sinful promises. She was full of sweetness and fire, and it crept under Levi’s skin.
He was in so much danger. How could he be doing this? How could he just kiss someone else’s girl?
Whoever the guy was, was going to find them together and come for Levi fists first. He could be twice his size, and yet this moment would be worth it.
He planted his other hand against the brick wall over her left shoulder to cage her in completely, his body a wall shielding her from the rough edges of his world.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth and Levi sucked it in, letting her know what happened when she played with fire.
He reached inside her coat, finding the hem of her sweater. She gasped when his rough hand found bare skin, his palm flattened against her warm stomach. She curved her back away from the wall and curled against his body.
“Back against the wall,” he growled.
She obeyed. “Good girl,” he whispered into her mouth, his hand traveling up higher, finding the spot where it belonged. Gooseflesh bloomed on the soft skin above the lace of her bra as soon as Levi swiped his thumb across it, and he felt the nipple harden against his palm.
She was a fucking angel. What was he doing? Ruining her for anyone else but his kiss, his touch. That’s what he was doing.
Levi pushed his tongue to the back of her throat like a complete caveman, and fuck him if she didn’t open her throat, fist her little hands in his tee shirt, and take it. She took all of his tongue and sucked it back even further, her soft little moans giving hints of all the things she would enjoy doing to him with that mouth.
When he fell so deep into the moment that he squeezed her breast a little too hard, she pulled back from the kiss. “Shit,” she whispered.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said, her breath ragged. The sight of his saliva shining on her lips made his aching dick jerk.
The fact that he was tenting so fucking tall right now made what came next all the more difficult to resist.
An evil smile spread across her face as her hands let go of his shirt. She adjusted herself, getting her hands where she evidently wanted them, at Levi’s belt buckle.
“What’re you doin’, sweetheart?”
She dragged her tongue across her top lip and he felt her hands grappling, heard the sound of metal clanking and the slip of the leather. “I didn’t get to finish my drink. I’m thirsty.”
The young woman whose name he didn’t know was really palming his dick through his boxer briefs. Speechless, Levi trained his eyes onto her while she stroked him.
Jaw clenched, his already tight-beyond-reason musculature threatened to bust through his tee shirt.
When she made a move as if she really might kneel down, Levi’s conscience ripped a hole in his self-awareness. He let go of her tit and grabbed both of her shoulders to still her against the wall. “Listen, no, I can’t let you do that here.”
She pouted. “I would like to say thank you.” She said it as if Levi had simply interrupted her in the middle of handwriting a stack of embossed thank you notes.
“What’s your name?”
Hesitating, she finally let go of his dick and sighed, “Fiona.”
He let her see him smile, just a little bit. “You said fighting turns you on? Then let me help you out with that.”
Fiona’s eyes went wide. With a squeaky little “Yeah, okay” from her, he swept her into the blackness, away from the security light. Safely in shadows, Levi worked his hand down the inside of her stretchy leggings and her panties, getting straight to the point. His opposite arm went back to the brick wall, where he flattened out his forearm to obscure the view in case anyone peeked out the back door of the bar. Even in the dark, he didn’t want to take the chance of embarrassing her.
The softness and warmth of the folds between her legs overwhelmed him as her juice coated his fingers. Dirty boy that he was, he wanted to taste it. Wanted her to see him taste it. But they had so little time. He quickly found her tight button.
Her already-flushed lips turned a deeper shade of pink, and her hips bucked against his pressure. “I…oh wow, that’s…nice…”
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he saw her eyelids flutter closed. He let her bask like that for a few soft strokes.
With a sensuous, wet kiss against her parted lips, he ordered her to open her eyes.
“You can thank me by keeping your eyes on me.”
Levi thrummed his middle finger back and forth with added pressure against her clit. Again she arched against his touch, her body begging for more. He responded by slipping his middle finger into her opening and strumming with his thumb.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I need your tongue in my mouth.”
He had to oblige; the taste of her was too delicious to resist. His thumb swiped her clit back and forth with varying speed and pressure while his tongue worked her mouth in tandem. He broke the kiss as she seized up, and fell apart, releasing an aggressive moan.
“Eyes on me, Fiona.”
At the sound of her name, her orgasm doubled, her muscles tightening around his fingers, her eyes rolling back in her he
ad, her hands grappling his chest.
Headlights passed over the bricks at the end of the alleyway, prompting Levi to gently let go of her. “That’s my ride,” she said, catching her breath, straightening her leggings and drawers.
Levi pulled down her sweater and buttoned her coat.
He lazily zipped his fly and buckled his belt. “Fuck that guy, let’s go get a slice of pizza.” He nodded toward Haven Street at the end of the alley, where her car waited, and where the blinking neon letters, “OPEN,” beckoned drunks to enjoy Deano’s Pizza by the slice.
“A fistfight, a finger-fuck in an alleyway and a slice of greasy midnight pizza. What is this, prom night?” she asked, a smartass sideways grin gripping his heart in unexpected ways.
He threw out his best charming half-grin. Half-grins were about as big a grin as Levi could naturally muster. “What can I say, I’m a stand-up guy.”
She turned her twisted smile to the contents of her open handbag, pulled out her phone, and tapped a message to someone. Probably that jag off who was waiting for her in that car.
“Nicer than that guy,” he said, nodding toward her phone, then mentally kicking himself for trying too hard.
Her face still down, she replied,
“That’s my driver. I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m just letting him know I’ll be right there.”
Levi was dumbfounded. “Why’d you let me think you were spoken for?”
She lifted one shoulder. “It’s that much hotter when a guy thinks they’re being super bad. The fantasies make everything wetter.” She whispered the last word while playfully pinching his chin scruff between her thumb and forefinger.
Levi mustered all of his energy not to let her see how she’d just gutted him like a fish, opened him up and looked at his insides. She’d let him think he was moving in on someone else’s girl, for some kind of kink or something.
“Better go,” he said, his voice turning to ice. “That was fun, but don’t come back here. It ain’t the place for you.”
She seemed to have no strong feelings one way or the other about coming back as she winked at him, turned and walked toward the waiting car at the end of the alley. Good.
When she was finally gone, Levi went back inside the bar and finished his shift, telling himself to shake it off.