Free Saving Abel (Rocker Series) by Gina Whitney Page B

and Dave constantly tweeted and posted pics on Instagram. Fans loved that shit. Carlo, the club owner, joined us as we walked in.
    “Glad to see ya, man.” He shook my hand hesitantly. I only nodded. I didn’t do the man-hug shit: the other boys did. That was Ender’s thing. It was a cultural affirmation for him. Carlo looked past me to see Gia peeking out from behind me.
    “Who’ve you got here, Abel? Sweet thing, isn’t she? What’s your name, sweetheart?” He grabbed Gia’s hand to kiss it. I stepped between them to circumvent it. That prick was not putting his fucking lips on what was mine. And she was fucking mine .
    “Not going to happen, dude. Who she is, is none of your concern. Now, where’s our table?” He stepped back. I stepped forward, his face draining of color. With that, I emphatically ended the power play for Gia.
    “No disrespect, Abel. Follow me to your table. It’s nice and private so you can get to know each other … if you know what I mean.” He winked at Gia as I motioned for her to scoot into the booth. This fucker was getting on my nerves. I grabbed for his neck. However, Woody stepped between us.
    “Lad, if ye don’t stop acting like a cunting maggot you’re gonna get your clackers ripped off,” Woody told him. Wood’s Irish lilt always shone when he was drinking. I had to laugh at the expression on Carlo’s face. He didn’t have a clue what the man had said, but knew enough to walk away. Woody turned and braced my shoulder with his hand.
    “Lad, chill for fuck’s sake.” He nodded in understanding. I turned to Gia and she smiled, patting the bench beside her. Man, he was right: I needed to chill the fuck out. I nodded to Woody.
    “I’m good, bro. Drinks? Let’s get the waitress here—in a hurry,” I said, impatient to get on with it. The rest of the boys filed in with Ender taking a seat next to Gia. Motherfucker. Cindy sat next to Woody, who was clearly fascinated with her tits. The boys were ready to party hard and I wasn’t far behind them. A hot blonde waitress in hot pants and a bra strutted over after winning a fight among her co-workers over who was going to serve our table. We were good tippers. The waitresses weren’t only good at serving up quick liquor. They also were quick lickers. They were equally proficient and accomplished in the art of getting a dude off in record time.
    “Hey, babe. Haven’t seen you in a while. Where you been hiding? I’ve missed you, baby.” The waitress leaned in, squeezing my bicep.
    “Haven’t been hiding, just not interested,” I snapped. “Now, how about those drinks.” The bitch shot me a death glare. Fuck it. These chicks were tough as nails. Fan-girling took a certain amount of low self-esteem. These girls bounced back and came at you harder the next time. It didn’t mean I enjoyed being a prick. I didn’t. It’s just if you give an inch you’d have a dick warmer on your hands the whole night. And the only dick warmer I wanted was about to lay claim to me by sitting on my lap for everyone to see.
    “Excuse you, babe,” Gia smirked. “Well, there really is no excuse for you, is there. Now, be a love and bring the drinks.” She and Cindy snorted. Dawn, the waitress, looked stunned. But she recovered quickly, ignoring Gia by smiling and winking at me. See? Gia stiffened in my lap. Perhaps she wasn’t used to being disrespected. But fan-girls were a different breed of chick: when it came to celebrity cock, they were fucking ruthless. The table vibrated with the heavy bass of the song. This club primarily played dance music. It wasn’t really my scene. But my boys were cool with it and enjoyed hanging out here.
    “Babe, you keep wiggling that tight ass of yours, I’ll have to fill it with something,” I told her, leaning in to smell her hair. Man, she smelled good—too good …
    After an hour of straight drinking, the boys wanted to cruise the club. We were standing around the table. Ender was doing his