Page 13 of Down & Dirty: Rage

Coffee first.

Joint second.

Blowjob...

He pursed his lips, wondering who would be downstairs to take one for the team.

That team being him.

The shift of his jaw reminded him that something had collided with it.

“Goddamn,” he groaned as he rose to his feet.

He tagged his jeans off the floor—though, bending over made him see spots— and yanked them up his legs. He didn’t even bother to fasten them because he had to fucking piss like a bitch.

Once he made his way to the hallway bathroom, he shook his head at the pee-splattered toilet. Yeah, one of the girls needed to get to cleaning.

He glanced up into the mirror. “Holy fuck.”

He lightly brushed his fingers over a bruiseon his left jaw, glanced down and poked gently at the big one that had bloomed over his ribs.

Sore, but not broken. Thank fuck.

The good news was nothing seemed broken and he was upright. But fuck, even being a little fuzzy on the details, how he looked and felt proved that last night didn’t go as easily as planned.

Driving his hand into the front pocket, he realized his jeans were blood-splattered. The girls would need to do his laundry, too.

Or maybe he should just burn this pair like he planned on doing with the cuts of any Twisted Souls he stole.

One by one, he pulled out the name patches of the four souls he had a “word” with. The last one having been just the night before.

Psycho. Prime. Cobra. Bug.

Yeah. The war may have begun.

And fuck if he didn’t start it.

“How ya feelin’,boss?”

“Like shit,” Rage answered Pugsy as he headed behind the bar at Heaven’s Angels. His home away from home. Actually, itwashis home since his commute to work only involved a fucking metal staircase out back. “Any fuckin’ coffee?”

The prospect answered, “Shimmer started a pot. Should still be good.”

Good, because he hated drinking bitter tar. And he needed caffeine badly. “She here?”

“In the back.”

That was also good. It was a bonus to have a sweet butt working at the club. She could—and did—pull double duty.Not that some of the strippers wouldn’t put out. Some did. The ones with significant others didn’t.

At least Shimmer was a guarantee.

Even though they weren’t sweet butts, Opal and Cashmere were always up for playtime, too.

“Get me a big mug of coffee and tell Shimmer to get her ass out here.”

“Think she’s gettin’ ready.”

“Didn’t ask what she’s doin’. Told you to get her out here.”