Chapter Three

Memphis

" V enom." I stick my head out the front door and crook my finger, beckoning him over. Shelby is nowhere in sight. Thank fucking God.

She's been testing my patience since she started her, but she crossed a fucking line tonight saying that shit to Kylie. I saw the look on my girl's face. Whether she wants to admit it or not, what Shelby said hurt. I'll be damned if she has an opportunity to say it again.

Kylie isn't fat, and she isn't trash. No one leaves that look on her face, not in my bar.

I don't care if Shelby is jealous of the fact that I can't keep my eyes off Kylie. I've never given Shelby a single goddamn iota of reason to think I'm interested in her or that she has a chance. She was an employee, and nothing more.

Now, she's not even that.

Venom's usual surly expression is grim as he strolls toward him. "'Sup, Memphis?"

"She doesn't step foot in this fucking bar again," I say, my voice pitched low so it doesn't carry to the throng milling around the doors. "I don't want her on the property, period."

Venom purses his lips, his silence speaking volumes. He has a soft spot for the girl. I don't fucking care, though. She isn't welcome here.

"I mean it," I growl. "If I catch her on this property, I'll have her ass thrown in jail. And anyone who lets her on the property will be out of a job."

"Goddamn, Memphis." Venom says with a sharp shake of his head. "Slow your roll. No one said anything about letting her on the property."

"Just making sure we're clear on the new rules," I mutter, holding his gaze for a long moment before I duck back inside the bar.

Venom is a complicated motherfucker. He and rules don't always get along. And as the motherfucker who lays them down around here, he and I have butted heads about them a time or two.

Quite frankly, he's a surly bastard. But he's always been loyal, and he knows how to handle business. When shit pops off around here, he's exactly the surly bastard I need knocking heads and tossing people out on their asses. Money and fame don't faze him. Screaming fangirls don't. Beef with bikers and bar brawls don't, either. Nothing does.

"It's about fuckin' time you did something with that girl," Jessup says, tossing me a shirt when I stop in front of the bar. "She's been nothing but trouble since she started here."

I snatch the shirt out of midair. "Yeah, well, she won't be a problem anymore," I growl, yanking the shirt on over my head. "Do me a favor and make sure all her shit gets sent to her. I want everything of hers out of my bar before it closes."

Jessup jerks his chin in a nod. "I'll make sure it's taken care of."

"Thanks, brother." I cast a cursory glance over the bar to ensure there aren't any other problems that require my attention and then stride back to my office, my boots thumping against the wooden floor.

I find Kylie sitting in front of the security monitors, her head down. A surge of protectiveness courses through me at the sight of her, my heart thumping unevenly. I half expected to find that she'd disappeared on me.

Who the hell is she? And why the fuck does my heart feel like it's going to beat out my chest every time I look at her?

It's been a long damn time since I've cared about anyone but my damn self. The fact that I care about her scares the hell out of me, but I do, and I don't know why. She seems familiar, and it's not just those fuckin' eyes. It's her . But I've wracked my brain trying to place her, and I have no memory of this mouthy, gorgeous little bookworm. She came out of nowhere.

"Hey," I say eventually, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed.

She jerks upright, spinning the chair around to face me. Her emerald eyes meet mine and then flicker down to my chest. It might be my imagination, but I think I see a hint of disappointment in them. Was she expecting to find me shirtless?

Interesting.

"Shelby won't be a problem anymore."

"I'm so sorry, Memphis," she says, wringing her hands together as guilt flows through her expression. "I didn't mean for you to fire her."

"Hey, none of that." I stride across the office toward her, not stopping until I'm standing right in front of her. Unable to resist, I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. She leans into me slightly, those gorgeous eyes eating me alive.

Fuck, the things I want to do to this girl. She's in my bar, reading the fucking Wizard of Oz every night, and I'm fantasizing about tying her to my bed and seeing how far down her throat I can fit my cock.

She was right earlier; we're not the same. And that's not nearly enough reason to keep me from putting my filthy hands all over her.

"Shelby had it coming, princess," I murmur. "She's been pissing me off since she started working here."

She takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly. The way it rushes over my fingers has my cock throbbing. "Okay, but I still feel like I caused a scene."

"The only one who caused a scene was Shelby. And believe me, baby, that scene needed to be caused." I release my grip on her chin, smirking down at her. "Besides, you stood your ground and put her in her place. Hell, who knows? You might even be able to hold your own down at the Waffle Casa with that attitude."

She huffs, rolling her eyes at me as her expression shifts to playful indignation. Despite her best efforts to look stern, a tiny smile plays around her lips. "I will burn your bar to the ground, Memphis. Don't play with me."

I lean back against the edge of the desk, chuckling. And then inspiration strikes. With Shelby out, I need a waitress. I also want Kylie right here for as long as I can keep her here. Two birds, one stone.

"Tell you what," I say, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. Sometimes, I'm a fucking genius. Even Riley would be impressed. "You leave the fucking matches alone, and I'll let you stay as long as you want. But I'm calling in that favor you owe me."

Her eyes immediately narrow in suspicion. "I'm not sure I want to know what your favor is."

"You trust me that little, huh?"

"Um, yes," she says without hesitation.

"Well, damn." I laugh, clutching my chest. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"

"Just did." She shrugs, smirking at me. "Any additional questions? Because I can keep hurting your feelings if you really want me to. I won't even charge you to do it."

Jesus Christ. I can't wait until she's in my fucking bed. I hope she's just as mouthy when she's begging to come.

"About that favor…" I say, ignoring her sassy ass attitude before I end up fucking her against the wall. "You ever done any waitressing?"

She jumps up from her seat, her hands planted on her wide hips and those emerald eyes shooting off sparks. "Hell no. I am not walking around here topless, Memphis Hughes!" she snaps, fire in her voice. "If that's what you think, you've lost your mind."

What the fuck?

I narrow my eyes, stomping toward her. "Fuck no," I growl, a dangerous edge to my voice. The thought of anyone out there seeing her without a shirt on sends a jolt of possessive anger through me. I'll burn this fucking bar to the ground myself before I let that happen. "You'll be keeping your shirt on, princess."

She glowers at me, suspicion lingering in her eyes, and then she slowly relaxes. "I can keep my clothes on?"

"Every fucking stitch of them," I swear, holding up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute, which only makes her roll her eyes at me again.

"You might as well put those fingers down because we both know you were never a Boy Scout," she mutters with a toss of her head. "But fine, I'll do it. If you pay me."

A slow smile curves my lips up as I cross my arms, eyeing her. She's fuckin' cute and savage, so this oughta be good. She's probably going to take my ass to the cleaners.

"How much, princess? Name your price."

She considers it for a half second before blurting out, "Eighty thousand dollars."

A sharp bark of laughter erupts from my lips at her arbitrary, random number. "Is that all? Fine. You've got it."

She blinks, clearly shocked that I'm giving in so easily. I don't think she expected me to agree. But I would have given her five times that if it meant keeping her in the bar night after night. Honestly, I expected her to ask for five times that. Anyone else would have. But as I'm quickly coming to realize, Kylie isn't anyone else. I don't know why she's here or what she wants, but it's clearly not my money. I'm not even sure it's me. Half the time, I think she'd prefer it if I didn't know she existed at all. Which makes her all the more intriguing because she's clearly here for a reason.

I intend to find out what that reason is.

"Since you work for me now, I guess this means I get to tell you exactly what I want you to do now," I tease, enjoying the way her cheeks blaze bright red.

"Whatever you say, boss man," she mutters, rolling her eyes as she slips past me. I let her get all the way to the door before I slam it shut, trapping her between it and my body.

Her breath hitches as I seam my chest to her back, letting her feel how fucking hard I am for her. Appropriate behavior for her new boss? Fuck no. Do I care? Also, fuck no. This girl is mine. I don't care why she's here. I don't care what she's after. So long as it ends with her in my bed, coming all over me, she can have whatever the hell she wants. And I'll break every rule I have to break in the meantime.

"If anyone tries to put their fucking hands on you, tell me, Toto. I'll remove the goddamn things myself."

"Toto?" she whispers, turning her head to peer at me over her shoulder. Of course she ignores what I said and the fact that I'm pressed up against her. Of course she does. "Really, Memphis? We've gone from Ozma to Toto now?"

"Damn right." I lean in close enough to feel her warm breath against my skin. "It fits you better, baby. You're sweet, innocent, cuddly, and fuckin' savage. Besides, the dog was the best part of the movie. Everyone knows that."

Her eyes narrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips. "I guess that makes you the Wizard?"

"Sure." I run my nose up the side of her face, unable to help myself. Her scent makes my goddamn balls ache, but I keep my expression neutral, trying like hell not to let her see just how much she's gotten under my skin. "If the Wizard gets you and your little kitty too, baby."

She groans, pushing against me to create some space between us as she rolls her eyes. "You seriously need to work on your lines, Memphis. I've seen better material scrawled on the stalls in public bathrooms."

I press her harder against the door as my lips drift closer to her ear. "Keep rolling those pretty eyes at me and you're going to see just what kind of material I have, Kylie," I growl against her skin. "The next time you do it will be the last."

"Fine. Let me out so I can go earn my eighty thousand, boss man," she says, snark in her tone.

I wrap my hand around her hip, spinning her so her back lands against the door. Her wide eyes meet mine, her lips slightly parted. Whatever sassy fucking thing she was about to say dies on the tip of her tongue as she stares up at me.

Fuck. She's so goddamn beautiful.

I can't hold back any longer. A low groan rumbles from my chest as I close the distance between us, capturing her plump lips in a searing kiss that sets my blood on fire.

Electricity courses through my veins the moment our mouths meet. It's like a livewire, sparking and crackling with an intensity I've never felt before. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I press her harder against the door, my tongue delving past her parted lips to tangle with hers.

She tastes like honey and sin, sweet and addictive. I instantly want to drown in her.

My hands slide down her sides to grip her hips, my fingers digging into her soft body through the fabric of her jeans. I yank her against me, letting her feel the hard length of my cock straining against my zipper.

She gasps into my mouth. I swallow the sound, my fucking balls aching like a motherfucker.

Her fingers twist in my long hair, tugging me closer as she kisses me back with a ferocity that threatens to bring me to my knees. Fucking hell. I've never been kissed like this—like I'm a drug she can't live without. Like I'm the only thing tethering her to this dimension. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once.

I drag my mouth from hers before I lose the willpower to do it all. One kiss and I'm already fucked—addicted. Willing to do whatever it takes to make this girl mine.

"I mean it, princess," I murmur, touching my forehead to hers as I gently shift her away from the door and pull it open. "If anyone tries to touch you, let me, Jessup, or Venom know."

I'll fucking kill them.

"Okay," she whispers, reaching up to touch her lips, her eyes wide and dazed.

A bolt of protectiveness lances through me, followed by another surge of lust.

What is she doing to me? Jesus Christ.

I groan, practically throwing myself through the door into the chaos of the bar. But even with the noise surrounding me, all I hear is the sweet way she gasped when my mouth was on hers, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm fucked.

Kylie Byers—whoever she is—will be mine. Body and fuckin' soul.