The All Encompassing: Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 1) by May Ellis Daniels Page B

out broke motherfuckers? Protecting rich assholes and their property? Make you feel like a big shot?”
    “You’re political? Let me guess. Robin in the Hood?”  
    I cringe inwardly. I’m being a douchebag and I’m not sure why. He’s got my hackles up, though. I shake my head to settle down and say, “I don’t know why I’m in law.”
    Aaron lifts an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like a career suited to drifters. And you don’t seem like a drifter.”  
    “Take your shot,” I say.
    “You want to help people? They call and you come running? Guns blazing?”
    Is he mocking me? I don’t know him well enough to be certain. “A lawman saved my life once.” I say it so quietly I’m sure he won’t hear over the noise of the music and the general hum of the bar.  
    But he hears.
    “Is that the truth?”
    I nod.
    “Rescued you from the big bad?”
    “Why’d you become a drug running pimping murdering criminal?”  
    I say it fast, before I can stop myself, and when I’m done I wish I could take it all back.
    He doesn’t even blink. Won’t let me bait him. Just shakes his head. “What happened, Lily? Who saved you? And from what?”
    “Take the shot.”
    He smiles. This time it’s distant and a little bit sad.  
    He leans over and takes the shot. Misses.
    I bury the fucking eight and snap up the hundred bucks. “All right, Aaron. Good game. Nice to meet you and all that. Now if you don’t mind—”
    He reaches inside his cut, pulls out a wad of cash secured with a rubber band and lays nine hundred dollars on the table. “One more game. Win and you walk with the cash. I win you ride with me tonight.”
    “Ride?” I say, itching to laugh, shut him down and walk away. I don’t need the money, and to be honest I don’t like being made to feel I’m being paid for my time. But somehow I can’t leave.  
    “Yes. A ride. On my bike.”  
    “You mean…like your bitch?”
    “Sure. My cop bitch. You in?”
    My cop bitch . That would’ve got anyone else a kick in the balls. But it has kind of a hot ring when he says it. I look back at Trish. She’s on her phone. I think about walking over, telling her what’s up. Then I turn to Aaron and tell him to rack.
    “My turn to break,” he says once the balls are racked.
    “Sure. Yeah.”
    Aaron lifts an arm back. Settles in for the shot. Cradles the cue tip. His posture is suddenly perfect: graceful and powerful and athletic. The cue shoots forward so fast it’s a blur. The sound of the cue ball striking the formation is loud and sharp.  
    I know instantly I’ve been hustled.
    Three, four, five balls slam down. Four highs and a low.  
    The fucking bastard.  
    Aaron shrugs. “Warming up now. You feel me, tool?”
    Oh, I feel him all right.  
    “Asshole,” I say as my face drains of color.
    “A predator,” he says, laughing. “A fucking shark. And you didn’t even spot the dorsal. Hope you have sharper eyes when you’re on the job—”
    “Fucking asshole.”
    “You missed something in your not very imaginative summary of an outlaw biker’s life.” Aaron sinks a ball, looks straight at me with absolutely nothing resembling flirtation in his eyes, and says, “Booze? Check. We got that.” Another ball pockets. “Bitches? By the dripping dozens.” Another shot down, this one a pro-level cross-table bank, the kind of long shot you see on TV. “Blow? Fuck yeah. We got mountains of blow.”  
    Plunk goes another ball.  
    He’s hitting every shot short of actually hopping the fucking cue ball: long shots, angles, banks, doubles.  
    “You forgot one important thing though, Lily Miss Bacon. You forgot pool .”  
    Aaron continues the run until he’s sitting at the eight.  
    It’s a piss easy shot for him.
    I sip at the ice water in the bottom of my empty scotch glass, telling myself there’s no way in hell I’m getting on a bike behind this asshole.  
    Aaron flubs the final shot on purpose, lifts his hands in a mocking