BUTCHER: Wolves MC (Riding With Wolves Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

bodies, nice faces, and nice hair, wearing denim, cotton, and leather with flashes of metal here and there.
    I must have looked like I was on the prowl, as I stared down bad boy after bad boy. But whatever I looked like—and whoever I looked at—didn’t matter much to me. I was there to see one person, and I had to find him… But alas, even after eyeing the crowd a few more times, I did not.

Chapter 6
     
    ~ Lexi ~
     
    I felt a strong hand touch me gently at my waist and a warm body encircling mine.
    “Sorry I’m a little late,” Butcher whispered in my ear. His lips brushed against my neck and sent shivers down my spine.
    “It’s okay,” I replied, unable to move—and unable to tell the truth.
    But if you wanna know the truth, I’ll tell you… It was 10:48 p.m., and I’d been waiting in Pinky’s for over a half an hour before Butcher showed up. He’d told me to meet him “around ten,” but it was now closer to eleven than ten o’clock, and I was surprised I stayed as long as I did. I don’t usually hang out in bars, and I’m not big on waiting. So, needless to say, I was a little peeved by the time he finally arrived. But however peeved I was, it quickly faded.
    “I’ll make it up to you,” Butcher said, sliding into the stool beside me and leaning forward to smile at me sexily. He looked so good that it was hard to be mad at him for something as silly as being late for a loose, last-minute date with a stranger.
    “I’d offer to buy you drink,” he went on, looking down at the glass in front of me. “But I see that you’ve already taken care of that.”
    I’d had my eyes glued on the door from the moment I sat down at the bar, watching for Butcher. But of course, he chose to show up at the exact moment I wasn’t looking. He came up behind me right after I finished ordering a drink—and that drink had just been delivered.
    “You can get my next one,” I said with a sexy smile of my own. I’d inadvertently turned to face Butcher and slanted my legs toward him.
    “I’ll get you as many as you like,” he replied, unabashedly eyeing every inch of my long legs. He looked away just long enough to order a beer, then returned his gaze to my legs.
    “I hope you weren’t waiting here long,” he added, slowly moving his eyes up my body.
    “Not really,” I responded. I guess that wasn’t entirely true either. But honestly, now that Butcher was here, his lateness didn’t matter anymore.
    “And I hope none of these jokers here gave you a hard time,” he said, nodding his head towards his near-doppelgangers around us.
    “Nope,” I laughed. “They were all perfect gentlemen.”
    Actually, the guys in the bar hadn’t been “perfect gentlemen.” Indeed, they hadn’t been anything, at least not to me. Not a single one of them had tried to talk to me, hit on me, or otherwise approach me.
    “Good,” Butcher grinned. “I come here all the time and am friends with most of these guys, so I’d hate to have to rough ‘em up for messin’ with my lady.”
    My laughter turned into a giggle. “Your lady?” I asked. “Is that what I am?”
    “You are tonight,” Butcher answered, raising his eyebrows, “if you wanna be.”
    I decided not to answer with words, but with my face, and flashed Butcher a suggestive smile before taking a small sip from my glass.
    Butcher followed my lead and took a sip as well, tossing back his bottle. We went on to talk for a few moments, mostly about superficial, casual things, and the chemistry between us grew stronger. There was something so exciting and intense about the way we spoke to each other. It was like a dance—coordinated and playful, packed with emotion, and as refreshing as it was exhausting.
    About fifteen minutes into our “date,” Butcher trailed off from the conversation. His phone was buzzing and vibrating in his pocket, and he pulled it out and checked it, midsentence.
    I responded to whatever comment he’d made, trying to ignore, or