Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC Read Online Free PDF Page A

even more surrounding chatter silenced. His men began putting away the pool cues. Bishop's sharp leer flicked to the man who, before now, had gone unnoticed. “Who are you?”
     
    Stella turned to Stan and hissed between clenched teeth, “What are you doing?”
     
    “Standing up for you.” He stared down at her with wide blue eyes, uncomprehending the venom in her voice.
     
    She scrabbled for a reason to be annoyed with Stan. Intellectually, Stella knew she should be grateful for his chivalry. However, something inside of her bristled with irritation. “Well, sit down. I can take care of myself.”
     
    “But shouldn't I–”
     
    “No, you shouldn't. I'm a federal agent, just like you,” Stella narrowed her eyes, brows furrowing. Residual rage from her earlier days when she scrabbled against office sexism reared itself and licked its chops. “I can handle it myself.”
     
    Bishop quietly watched, his lips twisting with a grin. A female fed going off on her partner? Well, he was going to enjoy the show, immensely. He also had to admit, the look on Stella's face turned him on. Just a bit.
     
    Stan rebounded with an irritated expression of his own. Agent Holmes had the distinct feeling her partner realized the situation wasn't salvageable and, quite possibly, that she preferred the biker's company. If Stan asked outright, Stella wasn't sure if she could lie to his face. Still, the man tried to sway the situation. “Stella, I wasn't raised that way.”
     
    “Raised what way?” she sighed, picking up her beer.
     
    “To sit by and allow a thug to insult my girl.”
     
    “ Your girl ?” Rage flared instantly inside her head. To Stella's left, Bishop breathed in sharply. She turned anger and incredulity toward Stan, though. Slowly, she climbed off her stool. All the surrounding patrons became dead silent. Stan's body language immediately shifted from firm and determined to uncertain and wary.
     
    “First off,” Stella jabbed her index finger into Stan's chest, “I'm not something to be owned.”
     
    “I didn't mean–”
     
    “Secondly, I am a woman. Not a girl.” Stella cut him off with another finger jab. “And, like I said before, I can handle one damn biker.”
     
    After Stella lowered her hand, both agents leered at each other. Thick, unhappy tension pressed down between them as their little audience continued to watch. Stan's face darkened, his brow creasing and his nose wrinkling. “This was a mistake.”
     
    “Obviously,” Stella muttered as he stomped away. She watched the man storm off, his departure cleaving through the bar. Conversation reappeared after the door slammed angrily shut. To herself, Stella muttered, “Asshole.”
     
    The stool beside her creaked as weight lowered onto it. When Stella turned, she found Bishop had taken Stan's place at the bar with a cocky smirk. The bartender placed a draft before the man without a word exchanged between them. The Seven Tribesmen president never took his eyes off Stella. “This seat taken?”
     
    “If I didn't know any better, Mr. Bishop, I'd think you planned that,” the woman sighed as she sat back down. She still had some drink left, but the woman was realizing tonight would be much younger than she thought. An early night, a long bath, and maybe a session with her relaxation toy. Lifting the bottle to her lips, Stella gave Bishop a sidelong glance before taking a drink.
     
    “Shows what you know, then,” Bishop laughed. The deep, throaty chuckle and insinuation reverberated through Stella, pulling hot delight over her nerves. Part of the reason she agreed to the date with her co-worker – a bad idea, considering what just happened – was simply to relax, unwind, and maybe get laid. So much for that plan. Then again, the date wasn't even going that well. Her brain considered another option, briefly, before Stella resolutely dismissed it.
     
    Stella slapped her empty bottle down on the counter. Thankfully, Stan had paid