Rogue's Passion(6)

He glanced at the time on the blonde’s glittery cell phone lying face up on the table. Almost midnight. To hell with it, then. The guy wasn’t going to show tonight, either. He plucked a few bills from his wallet and threw them next to the empty glasses. What he needed now was to lose himself inside a soft body or two. He’d come back again tomorrow night.
One of the women gasped.
He frowned. What?
“Were there gold flecks in that beer?” the other one said, a mixture of confusion and awe on her face. “Or is that just an extremely generous tip?”
Shit. He’d put down too much. Way to draw attention to yourself, asshole.
Grabbing one of the bills, he laughed as he stuffed it back in his wallet. He tried tabulating the exact amount he’d thrown down, but came up empty. Numbers and letters often became a jumbled mess in his head, especially when he was under pressure.
“Never been much good at counting.” He hated to admit this weakness to anyone, but better they thought he was stupid than not from their world. He nodded toward the video screens. “Still jacked from the game, I guess. When Crosby scored at the end, I lost it. Partied a little too hard.”
“Me too,” the redhead said. “I totally freaked out and accidentally spilled my drink on the guy next to me. He was so pissed that we ended up leaving and coming over here.”
Thank the Fates he’d been paying enough attention to the game to rattle off that detail. The women seemed to buy the explanation for his screwup. They continued talking about the match and the upcoming championship games, which sounded much more civilized than the Warrior Games back home, where some participants actually died.
“Ready, ladies?” he asked a few minutes later.
The blonde pursed her lips into a pouty frown. “So soon?”
Clearly she wasn’t surprised by his assumption that they were going to be leaving with him. She was expecting to hook up…just maybe not this fast.
“Both of us? Together?” The redhead placed a hand on his thigh and slid it north.
That would be a big fat yes. “Only if you want to.”
He leaned over and kissed her—Monique? Mindy?—then the other one—Cindy? Susan? They scooted a little closer until their breasts were pressed against his biceps.
Although he’d been told their names a few times, he’d forgotten them already. A twinge of guilt lodged in his throat like a dry cracker. He prided himself on always remembering the names of the women he slept with. As an Iron Guild warrior, honor and respect, even in the smallest ways, were not taken lightly.
“And only if you like dogs,” he said, smiling, though he was serious. Conry was his touchstone. If a woman didn’t like dogs, Asher moved on.
“Dogs?” they asked in unison.
“Wherever I go, he goes. But he’s quiet. You’ll never know he’s there.”
Through the window, he could just make out the lanky, wiry-coated animal in the shadows across the street. Although Conry could fend for himself, Asher had picked this precise spot in the club because he could keep an eye on him from here.
Interesting. A woman was with him.
He sat up straighter. He couldn’t make out her face, but she wore a short green dress and cowboy boots. There was a dish of water that hadn’t been there before, and as Conry drank, she stroked his head. Was she talking to him? What was she saying? She stood, turned quickly enough that her skirt twirled up, exposing the backs of her thighs, and went back inside the building.
A smile crept to his lips. He liked it when people were kind to his dog. Especially pretty girls.
“You bring him out clubbing?” Cindy asked, turning to look. “I love dogs.”
The deerhound had retreated into the shadow of the awning, just the tip of his tail showing now. He was looking in the direction the woman had gone and not here, where he knew Asher was.
How strange. Conry wasn’t overly affectionate with people he didn’t know. Most of the time, he stood off to the side, watching and taking in everything. He wasn’t the type of dog who lay at your feet, rolled over to his back, and wanted you to scratch his belly. He had more dignity than that.
Hell, was he wagging his tail?
“I don’t see him,” she said.
He suddenly didn’t want to point him out. What if she wanted to go over there and pet him? Conry would let her, of course, but there was something about the way he was acting with the woman in the cowboy boots that Asher found intriguing. He didn’t want to spoil it.
In fact, now that he thought about it, he wanted to check her out, too. He fired off some lame excuse about forgetting a prior engagement.
“But what about our plans?” Monique asked. She frowned, and he noticed that tiny lines of makeup had gathered in the creases of her face.#p#分页标题#e#