I make out her bare feet before I see her. Toenails with chipped pink polish. She rocks them in and scrunches her toes like she's nervous. More likely she's uncomfortable because she's still in the clothes she wore the night before.

"Umm, do you know where..." she pauses to think of their names, "Brick and Rod are?"

I snort. Her voice is soft and unsure. Quite different from the spitfire who slept in my bathroom last night.

"In here," Rod calls, holding onto his head. His little friend Jim Beam kicked his ass last night. His long legs dangle over the edge of the red leather couch in the club office, and he tries to block the sunlight from his face.

She follows the voice that called to her and stops in the doorway. "Oh," she says surprised looking at all three of us.

Brick does nothing to hide the fact that he's checking her out. She doesn't look uncomfortable, instead she scowls until he stops. That's it, baby. Put him in his place. She's got a bratty mouth and looks that can pin you to the ground with one stare. My little pixie is a viper all right.

She holds her head high, as if she doesn't have ratty hair and two-day-old pajamas on. "Which one of you is Rod?"

The buff blonde dumbass on the couch raises two fingers in the air.

"And you're Brick, then?" she glances at the man who looks uncannily like a taller, more built, Danny McBride. He nods, his course red-brown hair bobbing with the movement.

She sighs. "Thank you."

I glance up, thinking she's mocking the note. But it's genuine. Her eyes stay down on the carpet and she moves her feet in that same unsure way.

It was a gamble not having them get her clothes too. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable knowing these two fucks had been in her underwear drawer, but now I wish I told them to bring her back something. Realizing that my eyes have been on her the entire time I've been thinking, I shift my dick and nod for her to come near.

She steps forward and then perches up on the edge of my desk. Her T-shirt is long, making her shorts invisible. The thought of her bare and writhing on top of this cherry wood isn't an unpleasant one.

"You need clothes?" I ask.

She nods, as if she's shy, and bites her lip.

"They'll take you," my head jerks toward my guys. Rod sits up too fast and grabs his head like he's having an aneurysm. Hungover or not, the last thing he wants to do is shop. They both give me a death stare.

I grip her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine. "Get what you need and what you want. They'll take care of it."

She looks like she has another question she wants to ask, but she doesn't say anything. Instead I remind her, "this is your house too now. You can do whatever you want here."

"Can I go anywhere I want too?" she smiles, blinking her dark lashes.

I smile too, not letting her catch me up in whatever bullshit she thinks she's up to. "Yes, but not alone."