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Humphries peered into the darkness. “Is someone…?”
A cell phone rang.
I held my breath, waiting.
Please turn around.
Please turn around.
Humphries froze, turned swiftly on his heels and walked away.
16
Deacon
I let out a breath when Humphries turned away to answer his phone. My fingers untangled from the hammock and I let the net drop around my shoulders.
Angel rolled off me, stiff and silent.
I wanted to ask if she was okay, but my body was exploding with pain—the kind that could make a grown man cry.
I couldn’t trust myself to talk so I turned on my side, panting.
Ecstasy had turned to agony the moment the hammock’s base had snapped. Angel had landed hard on top of me, squashing everything below the belt.
The pain was sharp, striking.
I’d need to see a doctor.
While I squirmed, Humphries conversation carried through the open balcony door. “Dude, do you know what time it is?”
Angel poked my shoulder, jarring me out of the pain-filled haze.
I shifted and faced her.
She sprawled on the wooden deck, her slender arms over her head and legs spread apart.
My gaze greedily swept over her body, every beautiful, chocolate peak and valley. Desire sprung to life, making itself known despite my soreness.
“Up here, buddy,” Angel whispered, clawing two fingers at me and then at her eyes.
I smiled.
My hands and lips had devoured that perfect body a moment ago. Who would have thought it would be my gaze that’d warrant the scolding?
“No, I’m still in San Pedro,” Humphries said in the distance.
Eyebrows wrinkled, Angel whispered, “Are you okay?”
A beautiful woman. A star-filled night. I’d be great… if not for Humphries and my crushed anatomy.
“You’re not okay,” Angel murmured when I took too long to answer. Her dark eyes narrowed in concern. She ran her tongue over her brown lips. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not your fault,” I croaked out.
She rolled toward me, her fingers prancing over my chest. “Where?”
I groaned in frustration.
