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Styx (Walk Of Shame 2nd Generation #2)(5)

By:Victoria Ashley


I find myself smiling, slightly amused, as I let myself out of the room to find something else to keep me occupied.

I’m standing here, looking around to get familiar with the gym and how it’s set up, when one of the guys that was watching me earlier, steps up beside me and grips my waist. “You look a little lost.” He now squeezes my hip, letting out this creepy little moan as his eyes roam over my body. “Want me and my friend to show you around?”

Disgusted, I remove his hand from my hip, but he quickly replaces it as if he has the right to touch me if he wants.

“Get your fucking hand off of me before I break it off.” I push his hand from my body and walk away from him, hoping that he won’t follow.

It does no good, because he ends up on the elliptical beside me, talking once again. “I love a girl with a little sass. My friend over here does too. It turns us on.”

His friend appears next to me, watching me as he wipes his armpits off with a towel. “You single?”

“No,” I bite out. “Now fuck off.”

“Damn . . . those tits.” I cringe as his eyes roam my body just as his friend’s did. “And that-”

“She told you to fuck off,” a voice booms, causing both the guys to look surprised and a little scared when the blue eyed cutie appears out of nowhere, looking extremely pissed off. “Get the fuck out, before I let you out myself.”

The guy on the elliptical cusses under his breath and turns off the machine. “What’s up, man. Didn’t realize you were still here. We were just giving the lady a little company. No harm.”

Not the least bit humored by the douchebag, he grabs both of the men’s gym bags and walks to the door, opening it and tossing them both outside.

He holds the door open and turns back our way. “When a lady tells you to fuck off, you fuck off. Out. Now.”

I raise a brow in humor and watch as the assholes argue with each other on the way out the door, not one of them brave enough to argue with the guy kicking them out of the gym.

He lets out a long breath and then walks past me and back into the room where he came from.

Jumping off the elliptical, I make my way over to the doorway and watch as he works the ropes again.

Watching him has me completely hypnotized again, until he turns around and notices me creeping on him.

A small smirk crosses his face, before he stops for a second to breathe. “Enjoying the view?”

I ignore his question and just smile, before walking away, grabbing my bag and making my way outside to see a motorcycle parked next to my truck.

When I go to open the door, I notice what looks like a flyer on my windshield. Grabbing it, I read it over, unable to hold back the smile that takes over, mixed with slight excitement.

“Holy. Shit.”

Yup. Definitely different than the men I’ve dated and most likely a lot more trouble . . .





Styx

IT FEELS LIKE IT’S BEEN weeks since I’ve had a day off at the club, so I choose to enjoy it, by spending some time working on my motorcycle and throwing back a few beers.

I’m off in fucking La La Land, forgetting about everything else around me, until my father’s shitty voice pulls me back to reality.

“Working on that old bike again. With all the money you make taking your clothes off, you think you’d purchase a new one and get rid of that junk.”

Growling under my breath, I throw my torque wrench beside me and run my greasy hands over my face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

My father chuckles and walks further into my garage, getting comfortable, touching my damn things as if he owns the place. I don’t even know what makes the piece of shit think that he’s welcome in my home.

“Your mother wants you to come over for poker night. Maybe you can bet some of that G-string money you bring in. Unless you’re afraid to lose it to your old man.”

Standing up, I kick my toolbox out of the way and reach for a towel to clean my hands. “You’re not my fucking old man.” I turn to face him so he can see all my hatred for him. “You’re a piece of shit that beat me up almost every day of my childhood and ruined any hope I had growing up. And my mother . . . well she’s stupid for taking you back and thinking that she can hide the bruises. I will always have her back and I’ll always protect her, but I won’t be accepting any invites to her home, anytime soon. Got it, Old man?”

He laughs. He actually fucking laughs.

The sound of his laughter snaps something in me, and before I know, I have him slammed against the wall with my hand wrapped around his throat.

I lean in close and give his throat a tight squeeze. “Let me see one more bruise on my mother and I will snap your neck without a second thought. Got it! I’m watching you. I’m always watching you. Don’t forget.”