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“So, the sex is good?”
“Out-of-this-fucking-world good.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and if I knew my cousin at all, I’d bet money she was about to grill me for every little detail. “Like, on a scale of one-to-ten, he’d be a what?”
I leaned forward and grinned at her. “An eleven,” I whispered.
She whistled low. “Fuck me, Tatum. How do you always get the good lays and I always get the flops?”
I kept grinning. “You always go for the good boys. Maybe it’s time for you to find a bad one and let him rock your world.”
She waved her hand in front of her. “Pfft, you can keep the bad boys to yourself, babe. I haven’t got time for their shit.”
As we laughed and joked, neither of us acknowledged the fact that I had been the one to marry the good boy all those years ago. The truth was that good guys weren’t always what they told you. At least with a bad boy you knew upfront what you were dealing with.
* * *
I drained my glass of rum and refilled it straight away. My third one for the night. I’d needed something to take the edge off and I couldn’t wait for Nitro to arrive for that to happen. So, alcohol it was.
It had been a rough day. Both at work and with my head. My damn emotions had put me through the wringer. Seeing the therapist stirred too much shit up that I’d rather forget. I’d forgotten it for so long that it was surprising me as we dug for it. And not in a good way.
I jumped at the sound of someone banging on my front door.
Nitro.
I placed my glass down and walked the short distance to the door. Opening it, I found him standing with his forearms resting on the door jamb.
“Vegas,” he murmured as his eyes slowly travelled my body. Nitro’s attention on me like that was addictive. I’d only just begun sampling it, but I wanted more.
He dropped his arms, stepped inside and scooped me around the waist as he kicked the door shut. His mouth landed on mine and he kissed me for a long time. When he ended the kiss, he said, “You got any of that rum left?”
I pulled my thoughts together after that kiss and nodded. “Yeah.”
He followed me into the kitchen and I poured him a drink, noticing the exhaustion that lined his face. I knew Storm and Silver Hell had called a truce, so I wondered why he looked so worn out.
I added some ice and then passed him the glass as he asked, “What’s running through that head of yours?”
“You look tired. Exhausted, actually.”
“Got a lot going on.” Such a man of few words.
“You know what I can’t figure out?”
“What?”
“Why King gave in so easily after everything that fucking club did to yours.”
He clenched his jaw and threw half his rum down his throat. “He had his reasons.”
“Fuck, do you ever say more than a few words at a time, Nitro?”
He closed the distance between us, the vein in his temple pulsing. “I don’t want to waste time with words tonight. I didn’t come here to fucking talk.”
It was true. My pussy clenched at his words, but at the same time something odd happened. I wanted him to fuck me—no denying that—but a tiny part of me wanted to have this conversation. Wanted to know his thoughts. I pushed all that aside, though, because I didn’t want to deal with those feelings. I just wanted him to wipe my mind of everything for a few hours.
He looked at me like he wanted to eat me. Then, he reached for the glass of rum he’d placed on the counter and pulled a cube of ice from it. A second later, he skimmed it across my collarbone and down to my breasts. The fingers of his free hand curled over the edge of my tank and he pulled it down a little so he could run the ice over my breast.
His mouth met the ice and he licked the melting liquid over my skin. Backing me against the kitchen counter, he let my tank go so he could reach under it and caress my stomach, then my waist and up to my breasts. His hand covered me perfectly when he slid it into my bra, and I arched into him as he rubbed my nipple between his fingers.
