AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Diego saunters in like he owns the place and is ready to get some action other than me. But I don’t think he’s looking at the girls. He’s scoping the lay of the land, cataloging and filing.
I follow him like a lame baby duck to the bar. Sure, there are some women in here who aren’t working, but they’re dressed to impress with too-tight jeans and tops either plastered on, undone down to the navel, or a combination.
At the bar, he leans against it, slaps down two twenties, and orders two bourbons on the rocks.
“I don’t like bourbon.”
He leans in close and coils a hand in my hair, handing me one. “I’m driving, and bad bourbon’s better than bad tequila. Drink.”
To whoever’s looking, it seems like we’re about to make out, but he’s also making it clear who’s in charge and who I belong to.
Diego keeps hold of my hair as I take a swallow of the bourbon, hiding my grimace. “Finish it.”
“You don’t need to get me drunk,” I whisper, his hand gliding down the front of my shirt. “I’m gonna let you have your way with me.”
“Fuckin’ flirt. What’s wrong with you?”
A million things, I figure.
He leans right in. “Doing that shit in this place? A cheap bourbon and you’ll spread your legs, Longstocking? But I can deal. Lower my standards for you. Drink.”
I do and set it down. I go to touch his face, and he turns it into my hand, lips brushing my palm before pulling away.
Someone bumps into him, and he turns, seemingly having words with the guy.
He’s got his drink, so I’m guessing someone’s come up to him to either call him out or talk. Nerves start to bite at me. No . . . he’s got my drink. He switched them.
“Buy you a drink, little lady?” a short, balding man asks.
He’s not looking at my face. No, his eyes are firmly on my breasts. “No thanks.”
“You want one.” He grabs my wrist just as Diego slings an arm around me, a hand coming to cup a breast.
“No,” Diego says, “she doesn’t. She’s got a thing about her fuckin’ drinks being spiked by members of your lot, 86sers.”
Heat streaks through me as I press back into the hard form of Diego. I glance down, and no wonder his hand feels hot. It’s on the lacy cup of my bra because he unbuttoned my shirt to where the two cups meet.
Diego draws me around so his back’s to the guy. Whoever he was talking to has gone, and he tips my chin to face him. “Don’t worry, for a cheap little thing, ready to jump my fuckin’ bones for a glass of cheap bourbon, I noticed you wore a lacy but not at all see-through bra.”
“You really are the worst.”
He brushes his mouth over mine, and I don’t know if it’s for show or he means it, and I don’t care. “I know. And yet I don’t have to get you drunk to sample that fine pussy.”
“You’ve already done that.”
“I have, and I’m willing to come back for more.” He doesn’t smile, but there’s a fire that lights his eyes. Oh, Christ, he’s gorgeous. My legs shake a little. “You’re a fuckin’ dangerous distraction.”
“Diego—”
“Listen, that guy I was talking to’s done work for an affiliate of the De Luca family. It says two things. He gave me some places and names, but he also doesn’t know anything. He’s here on the way to a job near Austin, and word’s spread about me. So, lean the fuck back, enjoy the girls so I can watch the room.”
“Do this often, do you?”
“The fuckin’ answer, Nadie, is on occasion, probably more than you’d like, and always for work. And you’re making it that much harder.”
“I’m—” I stop.
I’m not sorry. I like doing this with him, if like is the correct word. The new take on our old push and pull exhilarates. It’s a game of trust, and it layers over the feelings of the past. The fact I’m not ready to face what our declaration of love for each other means beyond the whole doomed aspect.
