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“That sounds good, baby.” His voice was a warm murmur against her mouth as he brushed a kiss over where his thumb once was.
Electrified. Breathless. That’s how he made her feel. And she didn’t know what the hell to do about it. She was unsettled, left adrift. Sallina Mendez was always the one who left men unbalanced yet eager, hungry yet unsteady, hard yet shaky. That was her superpower: utilizing her confident sexuality and sharp tongue to keep men on their toes and yet salivating. With Sly, though, she was the one off-balance, uncertain yet…desperate.
That’s what he did to her. What could she do about it other than tell him to hit the road? A sick swirling in her belly made her clench her muscles as the thought of Sly leaving and never seeing him again hit her.
Ugh. Guess she really was in it to see where it went. Like you haven’t been since he showed up again, an asshole in Tom Ford at his housewarming party. He’d told her off, basically calling her a gold-digging whore, and she still thought he was hot as fuck. Feminists across the globe hissed at her in concert…and she gave them the finger. Her vagina was empty, her heart was racing, and her head was all fucked up. If being with Sly meant she could finally have what she never had before—sex and intimacy, which weren’t the same thing—then she needed to give him his shot.
Right?
Unable to form words in reply to Sylvester, she nodded before hurrying toward Anna at the snack bar, ignoring the deep laughter that followed her.
“Your place is nice,” Sly remarked as he took in the room, somewhat chagrined that he didn’t remember what the place looked like even though he’d been there before. That last time he was there—that night, he hadn’t paid much attention to the décor because he’d had a hot woman rubbing herself against him as they ripped each other’s clothes off.
Now, he’d take the time to see where Sally lived. You could learn a lot about someone from where and how they lived.
I guess that means you’re cold and out of touch?So what, his house was big with several unused rooms, kind of pretentious, and right on the beach. His house said he was rich but lonely…and he liked the beach even though he hadn’t had much time lately to actually go outside his backdoor and enjoy it.
Inside Sally’s place, the living space was small but cozy with a plush looking couch, an armchair that looked like it had seen better days, and a coffee table with a few scuffs, two remotes, an empty drinking glass, and a couple of paperback books spread over it. The place was lived in, comfortable, the kind of place he imagined a hardworking, independent woman would want to unwind after a long day of taking shit from her bosses.
In front of the couches, along the far wall, was a wall-mounted 75-inch plasma TV, wired to several high-end speakers strategically placed around the room. He didn’t know much about sound systems, but he knew enough about the ones installed in his homes that the one she owned cost tens of thousands of dollars.
How does a marketing professional afford an expensive TV and sound system? Not to mention Sly recognized the brand label on Sally’s purse, Valentino Garavani. Just last year, before asking for the divorce, Loni had bought one similar to it, charging nearly four grand to his bank account—proclaiming it a gift to herself for enduring another year of “working herself to the bone.” He couldn’t imagine how genuinely bone-tired she’d be after partying in Milan and Florence on his dime. Then again, Loni loved to remind him that the lack of romance in their marriage made her shop to forget—a panacea for her wounded wife’s heart. He didn’t begrudge her anything; he could afford it. He just hated that she would often use her spending as a way to get his attention.
What about Sallina? What did she love? Her TV, her sound set up, her purse…was there more he couldn’t see, more that proved she lived above her means? Where had she gotten the money for such expensive things? Had their meeting at Happy Jack’s really been a whim of fate, or had she schemed the whole thing to meet him, seduce him, and take him for a long, drawn-out ride, hoping to get her hands on his wallet? Was he just the last in a line of men she’d romanced for cold, hard cash? Sly swallowed down the sudden rise of suspicion, disgusted with his thoughts. He hadn’t even spent a dollar on Sally—and she’d refused to let him buy her snacks at the bowling alley, turning her fierce, fiery glare at him when he’d tried handing the cashier his black AMEX.
Still, a hideously vile voice slithered from the back of his mind: it could all be an act….
No. Sally wasn’t like that! He’d had to fucking beg her to give him a chance. And her anger and agony when she thought she’d been used as a side piece were real. That level of rage and pain couldn’t be faked.
He had to get his head out of his own ass and stop assuming the worst of people.
Determined to flush all that shit out of his brain and enjoy the evening, he reached for Sally, eager to pull her lush, warm body into his and get their alone time started right.
She laughed and danced away, avoiding his grabby hands.
“Make yourself at home. I need to get out of these hip-huggers and into my comfy pants. As nice as these shorts make my ass and legs look, they do nothing for me once I’m home. Feel free to take off your shoes—then you can check the fridge for wine or beer, whichever you prefer to drink.” Sally turned toward a short hallway leading to her bedroom. “I’ll be right out.” She disappeared through a doorway and closed the door behind her, leaving him to breathe deep and try to get his dick and thoughts under control before she returned. He’d been semi-hard all night, watching her in those aforementioned shorts as she strutted her stuff up and down the lane, bending for the bowling balls, shaking her ass when she hit the pins, and celebrated. And the way her tits would bounce when she got really excited and jumped to high-five her brother and Blaze.
Shit.
His cock, now at full mast, twitched in his pants. It was going to be a long night.
A smirk lifted the side of his mouth.
And I am going to enjoy every second of it.
