The Bad Guy

4 - Beast

"Are you always this forward?" she asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"I thought I was being restrained," I replied, struggling not to laugh at how wound-tight she was.

I'd never met someone so innocent that they blushed just at the mention of fucking. It made my cock throb. Annabelle was nervous about everything and even jumped when her phone vibrated in her hand. I wondered if maybe she had a boyfriend, someone who would be worried about who she was with tonight, but when she slid her phone back into her bag without responding, I smiled. No, she was alone, like me.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

She rolled her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear. "For taking care of me."

"You don't need to thank me for that." I drummed my fingers against the table.

"I do." She shrugged. "Seriously, thank you."

Brody, the busser, brought out our fried pickles and sat them between us before he placed an application in front of Annabelle. "It's good to see you, Mason." He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously.

I nodded, giving him a smile. "You too, Brody. Thanks for the pickles."

He laughed, rubbing his palm across the back of his head. "I made 'em myself. It's only supposed to be one cup, but I added extra for ya. Enjoy!" He turned around and traipsed back into the kitchen.

"That was... weird," Annabelle whispered as she watched him disappear.

"He's a fan." I shrugged.

"Of what? Strippers?" she asked as she dug a pen out of her purse and began to fill out her information.

"Fried pickles, obviously." I quipped, shaking my head. Annabelle scrunched up her little button nose as I dipped one in the ranch dressing and popped it in my mouth.

"If you're going to sit there and judge me, you at least need to try one."

She shook her head as I dipped another and held it out to her. "No way."

"Open your mouth."

She laughed as she let her lips part.

"Wider."

She obeyed. I stuck the bite into her mouth, and the tip of her tongue brushed against my finger. I stiffened, her mouth sending a throb to my cock. Her eyes closed as she chewed the bite and swallowed.

"Okay. You win. That was weirdly good."

Hanna brought out our sandwiches in red baskets, topped with checkered paper, and filled to the brim with steak fries.

"You done with that?" She asked Annabelle who gave her a quick nod as Hanna picked up her resume, her eyes skimming the writing. "Can I get you anything else, hon?" Her attention had turned to me.

I let my gaze slip to her ample chest below her Tavern t-shirt before looking back to her face. "I think we're all set."

She winked at me before turning on her heel and making sure to shake her ass with every step as she walked back to the kitchen. Hanna was a good girl, raised on her grandpa's farm. She was also a bible-thumping Christian who'd tried to save my depraved soul on more than one occasion. I played along, not having the heart to tell her that I didn't have a soul to save. She'd given up on her quest for my salvation after my life fell apart. Women always wanted to find a man who they thought was broken so they could fix them. But I couldn't be fixed, and a girl like Hanna could never give me what I craved.

I watched her until the door swung closed behind her, and when I glanced back to Annabelle, her eyes were narrowed with curiosity.

I grabbed my burger, taking a large bite, and she cringed, shaking her head and causing her dark hair to sway against the tabletop. "You eat like an animal."

I smiled, wiping the ketchup from my lip and sucking it off my finger before shaking my head, my mind taking her comment in a dirty context. There was a muffled yelling, and we both looked to the large window beside us to see several drunks cheering and pointing at me. Behind the group stood Hunter, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets, a smirk on his lips. I pushed from my seat, raising my chin toward him, ready to wipe the smile off that cocky prick's face. He shook his head, and the group continued down the road.

I sank back in my seat before looking back at Annabelle.

"So, you're some kind of local hero around here, huh?"

"I'm no hero, Beauty. They respect me here because they fear me."

"I dunno. You seem like a pretty nice guy to me."

"You're a shitty judge of character," I quipped.

She shook her head, staring at me with amusement. "You're an interesting person, Mason Locke. I don't think you're nearly as bad as you think you are."

"That's because you don't know me."

"Yet," she added with a playful smirk. "Idon't know you yet."