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Maybe he was a bit hotter than most of the men walking through the parking lot.
All right, a lot hotter. Actually blistering.
Holy shit, his ass in Levi’s was just…
Wrong time, Reilly. The man is in the middle of a crisis and ogling his ass is not appropriate right now. Nor is drooling.
She swiped a hand over her mouth and sighed.
Not even five minutes later, his long legs were eating up the pavement between him and his truck. He jerked the driver’s door open and shoved the bag at her as he climbed in.
She glanced inside it and saw three bottles of Jack Daniels.
Three bottles of Jack.
“Um…Three?”
“They were on sale.”
She pulled the receipt from the bag. No, they weren’t. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re going to drink this much booze, food would be a really good idea, too. Don’t you think?”
The problem was, he wasn’t thinking. Right now he wanted to drown out his anger and memories and whatever else he was dealing with.
Three bottles of whiskey would certainly do that. Three bottles might also put him into a damn coma.
“Food, Rev. And I’m hungry, anyway,” she lied. She still was kind of sick to her stomach after dealing with the Stephen King house and family.
He scanned the strip mall, then once again growled, “Stay here.” He repeated the whole mouth-watering performance over again, but instead of going in the liquor store, he disappeared into a pizza shop two doors down.
Of course, Reilly had a hard time not watching his ass the whole time. Because not watching just wasn’t humanly possible.
She sighed at her weakness and noticed she hadn’t been the only one staring at it. The woman standing by her car three spots closer to the strip of stores had also been appreciating everything that was Rev.
The stunning eyes, the short spiky hair, the neatly trimmed beard, the badass tattoos and piercings, the denim-clad perfect ass and those damn, powerful thighs that Reilly had seen at work every time he pumped into a sweet butt on the farm out in front of anybody and everybody.
The man had no shame, but then none of them did. That was just the way the guys were. They liked sex and didn’t care who watched them have it.
Sometimes they didn’t care who they had it with, either.
Sometimes they didn’t care that they were also getting sloppy seconds.
Or thirds.
Yuck.
If she was smart, she’d find a nice guy to be—what the guys called— her regular, who didn’t wear a cut and the act of fucking him wouldn’t cause an issue with her sister or anyone else. Also, a guy she hadn’t watched have sex with a bunch of other women. Not just fucking, but getting head and giving it, too. The “giving it” part being cunnilingus and not sucking another man’s cock.
Though, that might be kind of hot…
No. She didn’t think any of the Fury members were into that and if they were, they certainly weren’t open about it.
The guys didn’t mind having sex together as long as they had a female as a buffer between them. No sword play allowed.
She might have to use two of the guys “accidentally” discovering each other as one of her future fantasies while using her Rabbit.
Yes, she would.
She eyed the woman still standing at the rear of her minivan, loading her groceries into the back with a slowness that reminded Reilly of a vibrator with dying batteries. As in, the woman was too busy keeping her eyes on the door to the pizza shop than worrying about her Rocky Road melting in the warm mid-day, mid-April temperatures.
But then, Rev was much tastier than Rocky Road. And eating a healthy helping of Rev wouldn’t cause a woman to put on a few extra pounds like ice cream might.
Sorry, lady, if anyone is jumping his damn bones tonight, it isn’t going to be you. You better save your ice cream before it turns to soup because that’s the only snack you’re eating tonight.
The woman’s spine suddenly snapped straight, her breasts pushed out and manicured fingernails fluffed her hair around her shoulders.
Reilly pursed her lips and debated whether to watch Rev coming back to the Bronco or the woman.
The woman. Who just happened to drop an item, then do some exaggerated movements, including bending over and wiggling her track pants-covered ass, to catch Rev’s attention.
Rev was too busy beelining back to the Bronco to even notice. His hands were full with a six-pack of Coke in plastic bottles, a large bag of chips and what might be two large submarine sandwiches.
Yep, the woman could have been naked and slapping her own ass and he wouldn’t have noticed. He had too much other shit clogging up his brain matter right now.
Like murdering his father. Maybe even his mother, too.
