Page 14 of Savage Bond

Either way, he loses.

“What’s your name?” I keep my tone even and make sure he doesn’t hear the annoyance begging to break free.

“Wilson.” His smile widens as he looks me up and down. Does he seriously think he has a shot with me?

“Wilson? That sounds like a country club name, not a biker name.” I wrinkle up my nose like his name disgusts me.

“Well, I didn’t have a say in what my mama named me.”

“Maybe not, but you do have a say in who you introduce yourself as.”

“Ok, then my name is… Wrench.”

“Eh, that’s a terrible name. Try again.” I wave him off as Storm shouts an order to me. I nod my head so he knows I heard him and begin pouring his alcohol.

Storm and Chopper won't step in unless they think I need them. We typically let other clubs into Savage to drink, but if they cause problems, they’re out. We don’t tolerate much drama here.

“Ace?”

“That’s so cliché. Are you sure you’re actually prospecting?” I arch a brow, making him squirm in his seat.

“Stealth.”

“Hmmm… not horrible. But you already introduced yourself as Wilson so now you can't undo it.” I smirk as I round the bar and deliver the beer to Storm’s table. The guys thank me and quickly take their glasses from my hands.

As I head back to the bar, Wilson stands from his stool and positions himself in my path. There’s no other way to get behind the bar. He thinks he has the upper hand, but he’s wrong.

“Can I help you, Wilson?” I place my free hand on my hip and dare him to do something.

“I want you to come home with me tonight.”

“Um, no thanks. You’re a prospect, you don’t have a place. You live in a room, you most likely don’t even have your own bathroom. Why would I want to come to your room?”

“Because I want you.” He takes a step forward and wraps an arm around my waist.

Dang, he’s ballsy. I'm not sure what the Sinners told him, but they were setting him up for failure. I glance in the direction of the Sinners’ table and Storm’s table. They’re right next to each other. I find six sets of wide eyes staring back at me. There’s one set of narrowed eyes locked on Wilson’s arm. I almost smile, loving how livid Chopper is right now. I’ll never admit it to anyone, but I love how protective he is of me.

“What you want doesn’t matter, little boy. I don’t want you.” I try to step away from him, but he tightens his arm. He thinks he has the upper hand, but he doesn’t.

He lifts me into the air and I don’t fight him. I let him place me on the bar and step between my legs. I stare down at him, waiting to see what else he’ll try. So far, he has balls of steel.

“I’m not a little boy, Rox. I’m all man.” He trails his fingers up my inner thigh and I narrow my gaze on him.

He doesn’t get to touch me just because some idiots psyched him up for this. I place my hand in the center of his chest and smile sweetly at him. As soon as he thinks I'm going to give in, I shove him backwards as hard as I can.

Leaning backwards over the bar, I grab one of the four baseball bats I have strategically placed around here and hop off the bar. He’s still lying on the floor, trying to figure out what just happened.

I pace in a circle around him and let the bat drag across the floor. The entire place is silent as everyone watches to see what I’ll do next. They know this isn't tolerated at my bar.

“I was nice when I said I didn’t want you. I even tolerated it when you picked me up and put me on the bar. I kept my cool, but you don’t get to touch me intimately. I don’t know where you got the idea it was ok to manhandle me, but it’s not. The men you view as brothers? They set you up. You were too stupid to realize it. Do you even know who I am?”

“Roxy? They said you like bikers and you want to be an old lady.” His brows furrow as he glances back at the guys he was sitting with. They all look sheepish, but don’t say a word.

Storm and Chopper shake their heads from the next table over. I know they’d never set up our prospects like this. They know it’s their job to be someone the prospects can look up to. Someone they can hope to be one day. They take Savage Wolves prospects under their wings and teach them how to be real men.

“You’re even more stupid than I thought.” I chuckle. “I'm Roxy Reeves. The daughter of the Savage Wolves’ president. One of the three daughters you’ve probably been warned to stay away from.”

Even though Dad isn't the Sinners’ president, I know stories about him and his reputation are spoken about among all the motorcycle clubs in the area, especially if they’re entering our town.