Rone

Prologue

Rone

Prologue

I stalked them through the dark streets. They weren't hard to track, rowdy and entitled, the men stumbled through the streets, calling out at woman as they passed and sharing a bottle of whiskey between them.

One man slurred and tumbled, bracing himself on a glass window pane. The others laughed and ribbed him, taking the whiskey from his hands and giving him a light shove forward. The man dragged a hand across his mouth and straightened, the light rain and the neon lights above him making his skin glow with warmth.

I smiled politely at a young couple and skirted around them, my eyes trained on the men as they laughed and hollered on their way to the club across the street. I could hear the music from here, feel the hypnotic bass underfoot.

Union was the name of the establishment. It was a dingy club filled with women in shaking stilettos and men with wandering hands. I rolled my shoulders back as I crossed the street on a diagonal, careful to keep my copper hair out of the light—it was often a source of unwanted attention. 

A horn blared as the men crossed the street without looking, nearly getting steamrolled by a large SUV. The driver honked again and the men hollered back, waving the bottle of liquor as they cussed and spat and waved middle fingers high. 

I lifted my lip in disgust, forcing myself to remain close to the storefronts as I cut towards the two bouncers. They guarded the door like dogs, their faces screwed up in intimidating scowls, their muscles bulging under the red glow. 

The taller one eyed me as I approached. I made sure to sink my hips a little lower with each stride, exaggerating my curved physique. He smiled appreciatively.

The other one paid me no mind. Tattoos crawled up his arms and neck, among them I caught the name of a woman. It didn't matter. I only needed to hook one.

"Back of the line," Tattoos said, his eyes remaining straight ahead. He was watching the group of men approach loudly, his mouth slightly pinched.

I gazed up at the tall one, lifting a strand of my long, copper hair. He grinned down at me, eyes hungry. I leaned forward slightly to let his height work to my advantage as my cleavage popped in his downturned gaze. He dropped his right eye in a wink.

I giggled and he adjusted his body to face mine with a rough grin. I dropped my eyes and then lifted them, peeking through thick lashes. He was mine from then on. 

"ID, Honey," he murmured, eyes taking their time as they wandered.

I was used to this sort of attention by now. The stares of men no longer made my skin buzz. 

I leaned close, close enough that my chest brushed his. I pressed money into his hand, letting my fingers trail up his arm until I clutched his bicep. His muscles flexed under my hold, his jaw tightening slightly.

"I want you to watch me," I hissed in his ear, "I want your eyes on me while I'm dancing, while I'm drinking, while I'm talking to men." His breath hitched and I smiled out of his sight. "Can you give me your attention?"

He raised his hand, the dark corner making him brave. I felt his fingers graze my hip, my waist, sliding just under my breast. I titled my head back and sucked in a quick breath through my teeth before flicking my eyes up to his.

I definitely had his attention.

His hand roamed until he had a firm grasp on my ass. I smiled and endured. I would need him later. He ducked his head so his hot breath snaked down my neck. "I won't take my eyes off of you."