Free Deadlands Heat (Doomsday Lover Book 1) by Sienna Cole Page A

enjoy his little joke along with a generous view of my cleavage. People often equate a flash of skin with friendliness—even trustworthiness. Go figure. “A drink,” I said. “I like my sex like I like my men—without pussies.”
    He laughed, loud and rasping, and then poured two fingers of whisky into a dingy glass, waiting until I’d tapped the pay icon on his bar before sliding my drink over.
    I took a slow swallow. The burn slid down my throat and curled in my gut like a live coal. “Not bad.”
    “I make it myself.” He held out his hand. “Name’s Axel.”
    We shook. “Jenna.”
    “I know every face round here—don’t recall seein’ yours.”
    “I don’t get out this way much. And when I do, I keep a low profile.”
    “Smart.”
    I took another sip. “Speaking of faces… You know anything about those guys who got shot up today?”
    “I know they’re buzzard food now. Undertaker won’t touch ‘em neither. Says Deadlanders come for their own.”
    “Any idea who got ‘em?”
    Axel’s bushy, salt and pepper brows drew together above narrowed eyes. “If you’ve got a score to settle—”
    I tapped up the bar’s pay-menu and transferred him a generous tip. “Call me…an interested party.”
    He stared at me for a moment and then nodded to the end of the bar where a guy in blue jeans and a tight, white tee-shirt stood chatting up one of the pretty barmaids. “He and his crew come in crowin’ about it.” He gestured to four big goons at a table in the back. “I gave ‘em all rooms for the night. Said they’d be gone by mornin’.”
    “Thanks.” I downed the rest of my drink and plunked the glass on the bar.
    “Don’t mention it. And don’t do anything I’ll regret.”
    I made a non-committal noise. The man Axel had pointed out looked familiar—long and lean, with blue-grey eyes and messy, dirty-blonde hair. He had a dimple in one cheek that appeared each time he flashed a smile at the simpering brunette who’d captured his arm.
    He looked up and our eyes met. The force of his attention was like a hand brushing over my belly. It sent an unexpected thrill through me, making my nipples tighten in response and my heart rate spike. Wow. Okay, so that was something. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be all work and no play after all. If he was my guy, I might be able to score two packages in one shot. I grinned to myself, took deep breath and strolled towards them.
    The barmaid glared daggers at me. He flashed that dimple.
    He was tall enough that I had to tilt my head to look him in the eye. “This is going to sound incredibly cheesy, but do I know you?”
    He gave me a charming lopsided grin. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”
    “It is a pretty bad line.” I admitted with mock-ruefulness.
    “The worst,” he agreed, shaking his head. “Not even I use it anymore and I’m incorrigible.”
    “How about I make up for it by buying you a drink?”
    His grin broadened. “I’d rather buy you one.”
    The girl, who’d been simmering impatiently up to this point, elbowed him in the ribs. “Max!”
    “If you insist,” I said, ignoring her. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
    “ Hello? I am standing right here .” The barmaid glared between us. She looked like someone had shoved a stick of dynamite up her ass and lit the fuse.
    Oh, right. That was me.
    Max looked down at her as though she’d just appeared beside him. “Oh, that’s right.” He gave her a grin. “Trish, honey, be a dear and fetch us a couple whiskey’s.”
    Trish’s mouth dropped open. She shut it with an audible click and stomped off, practically steaming from the ears.
    I couldn’t help laughing. “I can’t believe you did that. If she does bring anything back, it’ll have enough of her DNA in it to make a clone.”
    “You’re probably right. We might have to fend for ourselves.”
    “Ya think?”
    “Hey!” He snapped his fingers, as if just remembering. “I’ve got bottle of hooch