Resist Me(4)

By: Chelle Bliss



I laughed as I grabbed my bag and flipped him off. Pussy was the great equalizer and always won when you needed to get one over on a guy who thought he was “the man.”



When he’d said that he’d take me out and show me the town, I hadn’t thought that included the shittiest biker bar in all of Daytona Beach. The place reeked of cigarettes; the air was hazy from the smoke. A band was playing behind a cage like in the movie ‘Roadhouse’. I walked through the door with Flash at my side. The floors were filthy and the men inside didn’t look much better.

“None of your mouthy bullshit that I love so much when we talk to these guys, got it?” Flash cocked an eyebrow at me, standing like a statue as he waited for my answer.

“I’m not mouthy,” I insisted, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Darlin’, ya are, and I fuckin’ love it.” His smile grew wider, giving me a glimpse of why they called him Flash. He had a perfect smile filled with shiny, pearly-white teeth, one that could charm the pants off any girl. It did funny things to my brain, and I couldn’t say no to him. “In this bar, with these guys, it’s not the place. Understand? I’m a prospect, and that shit won’t fly here.”

I slid my arm around his waist, looking up into his baby blues. “I got it. I’m to be seen and not heard?”

He grabbed my shoulders and stared back at me. “That’s how these guys are. You don’t like something they say, just keep quiet.”

The last thing I wanted to be was a piece of arm candy that faded away in the background. It was not how I’d been raised. “Let’s get one thing straight, Flash. I know you’re badass and all, but I don’t stand in the shadows for anyone. Understand?”

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, rubbing his face.

“I’ll play the part this once, for you, but hear me now, mister. I’m not a club whore and I sure as hell ain’t your old lady. I don’t know what in the hell we are exactly, but if you want to be more than whatever the fuck this is”—I waved my hand in the air between us—“I will not stay quiet and be a mindless twat.”

“Calm the fuck down, woman,” he croaked as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “I don’t think of you that way. This is for them.” He turned his attention to the table full of rough-looking men about twenty feet away. I could handle big and burly. I hadn’t grown up a pussy. “Just please do this for me and I’ll make sure to make it worth your while,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and giving me a cocky-ass grin.

“I won’t make a scene and walk out, but you owe me big time.” I tore my wrist from his grip.

“Whatever you want, Izzy. You know that.” His eyes softened as he looked down at me.

“I’m going to use my silent time to come up with something really big.” I swiped my fingers across the small hint of chest hair just below his throat.

“I can do big.” He laughed and grabbed my hand to pull me toward the table.

“Fucker,” I muttered to myself as I followed behind.

He looked over his shoulder and said, “I heard that.”

When he stopped suddenly, I ran into his back, and it felt like hitting a brick wall. I used his body as a shield from the men at the table. I didn’t know if I had an off switch, but this wasn’t really the place for me to test it. I just needed to keep my eyes down and pray their little hello didn’t last long.

Flash leaned over the table, shaking their hands as I stood behind him pretending to be invisible—something I’d never done for anyone. Ever.

When he’d said that he wanted to take me to Bike Week in Daytona Beach for the weekend, I hadn’t been able to imagine anything better than the feel of the wind in my hair, the sand between my toes, and a shitload of hot bikers. What could be bad about that?

I hadn’t expected this, and I didn’t like it one bit. Flash would have to pay and pay dearly to make up for this “be seen and not heard” bullshit.

“And who do we have here?” a rough voice asked, pulling me out of my thoughts on how to torture Flash.

Flash shifted and reached around to grab my hand, tugging me to his side. “This is Izzy, my woman.” He tightened his grip on my waist.

I glared at him.

What the fuck? I wasn’t his woman. We had an agreement, but to call the naughty shit we did a relationship was overstating it just a tad. I gave him the stink eye and saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Well aren’t you stunning, Izzy. Is that short for Isabella?”

I turned my attention to the genius and smiled the biggest bullshit smile I could muster. “Yes, it is.” I swallowed the other words I wanted to say, still smiling like an idiot.

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