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But when I closed my eyes…
Don’t do it.
Shit, if I concentrated hard enough I could still smell her hair. I could still see those pretty brown irises, so dark and full of depth and longing. The heat coming off her had been infectious. My fingertips remembered every curve of that gloriously warm body, as we turned her over and over and over again.
“Right there. With the diamond earring.”
I hoisted my beer, trying to look casual as I stared off in the direction Dawson had indicated. A stubby, scrunch-faced man was hunched over a table, wearing an oversized stud earring. I didn’t know why, because it only brought more attention to his face.
“See the guy who just came up to him?”
Dawson laughed at some invisible joke, then stretched his arms to screen me while I looked. The distraction wasn’t necessary. The two men were engrossed in conversation now, and couldn’t care less what two guys drinking beer at the bar might be up to.
But in that split second though, I could see everything.
“That’s him, yeah.”
Crisco was unmistakable in appearance, especially covered in neck tattoos. Not that I minded neck tattoos, but these looked like they were done in the back seat of a car going a hundred miles an hour over a bumpy road.
“What now?”
I watched as Dawson raised his arm and casually ordered two more beers.
“Give it a minute.”
Turning slightly, I positioned my body so I could watch the pair at the table without making it obvious. I could see now that Crisco had come from a door near the back of the bar. At this distance, he looked greasier than ever.
“Damn,” Dawson quipped. “You sure know how to pick em.”
I ignored my companion, watching as the other man reluctantly fished into his pocket and slipped Crisco a small wad of money. From that point Crisco kept trying to get back to the door again, but the guy sitting down obviously wanted to talk. Eventually he pulled up a chair.
“Here,” said Dawson, shoving a beer into my hand.
A few different plans began formulating in my head. Before I could flesh any of them out however, thoughts of the other night kept floating through my mind.
Don’t get distracted.
I couldn’t help it. Brynne had stirred feelings inside me that had long-since been dormant. They were emotions I hadn’t been forced to face in years. Feelings that pulled my heart in directions it steadfastly refused to go.
It was sex. A lot of sex, sure. But that’s all it was.
Oh, it was definitely sex. And not only that, it was probably the best sex I’d ever had. But holding her crushed against my chest, when it was all over? Feeling the gentle rise and fall of her soft, feminine body, as she slept in my arms?
Thatsort of thing just didn’t happen. Not anymore. Not since—
“Santo. They’re moving.”
Dawson scratched at his auburn beard and pushed his glass away, while looking at me for answers. At the moment I didn’t have any.
Shit.
Crisco stood, and my first instinct was to follow. To be honest though, I was tired of following. It was time to get answers.
“Let’s take them.”
I said the words casually, like we were picking a paint color or deciding upon a restaurant. But this was a lot trickier. There were a lot of moving parts when it came to something like this.
“Santo…”
