Own the Wind (Page 80)

Then she stabbed her phone with a finger that had a long, perfectly shaped, shiny, eggplant-painted fingernail, slammed the phone down on the bar, and trained her eyes on Rush.

“Uh… did you not get that I want a shot of tequila?” When Rush moved, offering the bottle to her, she shook her head. “Don’t hand me that bottle. I am not a biker babe. I got manners. I drink out of a glass.” Then she turned her head to me and declared, “No offense.”

“None taken,” I muttered.

“And no offense with this,” she carried on, “but your bitch is a pain in the ass.”

I opened my mouth to agree just as the door crashed open and a long, solid, handsome, chocolate-skinned black man with a bald head, magnificent cheekbones, and a thick black goatee surrounding a pair of full lips that had to be sculpted directly by the hand of God walked in, eyes on Elvira, his long legs taking him right to her.

“Oh lordy,” she muttered, her head turned from me, and I knew she was watching the tall drink of chocolate-skinned goodness prowling her way.

“Are you f**king shitting me?” he ground out, still heading toward her.

“Calm down, baby, it’s—” Elvira started.

“You are,” he cut her off. “You are f**king shitting me.” His big frame teetered to a halt a foot away from her and I was a bar stool away with Elvira in between and I still leaned away from his fury. “After I spank your ass for this bullshit, I’ll be kicking Hawk’s ass for sending you into it.”

Uh-oh.

I failed to mention that Elvira was sassy in a way that she pretty much defined it. When women were sassy, men, no matter how hot they were, didn’t threaten to spank their asses. It also didn’t matter how angry they were, this would not be met with gentle, calming words. It would be met with rocketing fireworks and even tall, built-hot guys could not control a rocketing firework.

I knew I was right when Elvira slid off the stool which I thought was a tactical mistake seeing as she was taller on it.

She didn’t seem to mind, tipped her head back and snapped, “It’s my job, Malik.”

He moved closer and retorted, “It’s your job to answer the phones, do computer work, and herd commandos.”

There it was. I was right. Hawk was a commando.

The black guy kept going. “It is not your job to go undercover with a drug-dealing  p**n  producer who targets girls, gets them hooked on junk, and takes payment in pu**y.”

Uh-oh again.

“It’s my job to answer phones?” she asked, her voice soft in a way that made me glance at Rush who was scowling at the pair but, wisely, not wading in.

“Yeah, baby, it’s your job to answer f**king phones,” the hot black guy returned, bending a bit to get in her face.

“You don’t get to say what my job is, Malik. Hawk and me decide what my job is,” Elvira shot back.

“Woman, you wake up in my bed and after you give me what I need to start the day, I haul my ass out of bed and bring you breakfast so you got what you need to start the day. So do not even think of handing me that shit. I get a say when my woman puts her ass in danger,” he volleyed.

I had to admit, not out loud of course, that he had a point and also, breakfast in bed sounded sweet. Further, now that it was clear that this guy was Elvira’s man, I thought she did a little bit of seriously all right in landing this hot guy.

Elvira clearly didn’t think this at the present moment. She snatched up her cell from the bar, shook it at him and asked sarcastically, “You want me to get on the phone, big man? Hire a sky writer so all of Denver can know our personal business?”

I thought the appropriate response to this was no.

The gorgeous Malik clearly didn’t share my thought process.

He replied, “Yeah, baby. You do that. If you do, maybe Delgado will read it and get it in his f**king head that he doesn’t send my woman out doing crazy shit with drug-dealing  p**n  producers. I cannot believe you kept this shit from me.” He blew out a breath and his eyes went to Rush. “Do you feel me? Is this shit jacked?”

“Yeah,” Rush answered immediately, male camaraderie and all that, and I knew my brother was hitting serious badass status when Elvira turned her attention to him and he not only didn’t move back a step, he also didn’t flinch. His badass status would be proved when he went on to suggest, “Though, will say maybe your domestic isn’t well-timed. I got brothers out there in an uncertain situation, so maybe you two can suck it up and finish this shit some other time?”

Elvira cut her gaze back to her man, lifted a finger, and wagged it at him. “That works for me but, for you, just sayin’, you gettin’ what you need to start your day just got cut off for an indefinite period of time.”

I chanced a look at Malik and saw him scowling down at Elvira.

Then he pulled in breath through his nose as he held her eyes before he muttered, “We’ll see.”

“Yeah, we will,” she fired back and suddenly he flashed a sexy white smile that shone so bright surrounded by that black goatee, it took him from handsome to such a knockout I had to hold on to the bar.

“Baby, you cutting me off means you getting cut off, and I foresee that indefinite period of time lasting about a day.”

I only had the back of Elvira’s head but I fancied she rolled her eyes before she mumbled, “Whatever,” which, translated by a girl who understood girls, meant he was right and she was saving face. Then she slid back onto her stool, trained her gaze on Rush, and snapped, “Tequila?”

Rush looked at me then grabbed a shot glass. He put it down on the bar in front of Elvira and poured.

He barely took the bottle away before she lifted it and threw it back.

She slammed the glass down on the bar and in an effort not to freak out about whatever was happening out there with my man, my father, and my best friend involved, I leaned toward Elvira and whispered, “Your guy is kinda hot.”

She turned to me without hesitation and replied, “Careful what you wish for, girl. One by one my girls went down to badasses, I watched and thought, ‘I wouldn’t mind gettin’ me a little somethin’-somethin’ from a badass.’ ” She tapped her glass on the bar for another refill, Rush gave it to her, she threw it back, then she looked at me again and snapped with emphasis, “Wrong.”

“I have a badass,” I reminded her.

“Yeah,” she returned. “And Tyra told me you two went at it for days over a flippin’ fridge. Badasses are capable of and don’t hesitate to throw down about a fridge. An IT geek does not care what kind of fridge you buy. An IT geek just thanks his lucky stars he’s gettin’ it regular. An IT geek would say, ‘Whatever you want, honey,’ if you told him you were paving the front walk in gold.”