girl?”
“I’ll let you do it.” Her hair whipped over her shoulder as she met my burning gaze.
I inhaled harshly, the image of her baring her tits for me, holding still while I pierced her nipples, overwhelmed me with a surge of animal-like lust.
Not yet though.
Dragging my shirt back on, I grinned. “You have to earn it first.”
“What?” Her voice rose several octaves.
“You heard me.” I checked the clock.
Twenty minutes until my next appointment. Definitely not enough time to do what I wanted to with her. Not here. Not now.
Sin wouldn’t go down without a fight, of course. That was what made baiting her so damn fun.
She shoved me on the shoulder when I turned back to my sketch.
“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear, Cole. I’m the Executive Director of The Fairley-Chatham Family Foundation. I manage millions of dollars per annum. I might’ve been privileged”—she stomped her foot—“but I work for what I have, and I’m damn successful. So if you think you can keep treating me like some harebrained flake just because of where I come from—”
“Then act like it, precious.” I cut her off mid-riff.
Pressing up onto her tiptoes, she got in my face, hissing, “Stop calling me that.”
I glanced behind her, then quickly pushed her away from me. Three rough-looking losers were outside with their hands all over her car.
“You need to leave now.” I prodded her to the door, going cold all over.
“But I’m not done—”
“You’re done. We are done.” My voice flinty hard, I urged her to hurry up as the gang bangers strutted inside.
Sin continued to resist until a skanky, skin-and-bones asshole brushed against her.
“Hey there, honey. What’s the rush?” He sneered at her.
Another one tried to sandwich her on the other side, his disgusting leer barely visible through a scraggly goatee. “Yeah. You look like you could be fun.”
Chapter Four
“GET THE FUCK AWAY from her,” I growled, forcing my way between Sin and the wasters.
Kyle, Brett, and Curtis were nightmares from my past.
Maybe sensing she was out of her element in a major way, Sin zipped her mouth shut and hustled the hell out.
My old gang glued themselves to the windows to watch her. The second she unlocked the muscle car, the crude comments began:
“That rich bitch needs a cock in her hand, not a gearstick.”
“I hear that. I’ll be her gear daddy.”
“Piston the shit out of her,” scumbag number three said.
Shaking with rage, I only released a breath when Sin started the engine and squealed out of her spot. She shot down the road and out of sight.
With nothing else to keep their attention, the trio of thuglies turned to me.
“What the fuck do you want?” I pounded my fist down on the counter.
“Hey, Coletrane, that ain’t no way to greet old friends.” Curtis pushed off the hood of his sweatshirt, revealing red-rimmed eyes, a red-tipped nose, and hacked off mouse-turd brown hair.
He looked scrawnier and more tweaked than ever.
“You aren’t my friends.” Years ago I used to look just like him.
Down on my luck. Looking for a buck. Blitzed out of my head and needing a bigger dose of crank to reach my high.
Now I was bigger, stronger, smarter. And clean. I didn’t scare easy, just so long as these three delinquents never made a connection between Sinclair and me.
“We came to squeeze you for some money.” Brett, the biggest of the group, shoved up to the counter.
Maybe he was mixing steroids with his crystal.
“Who the hell do you think you are? The Godfather?” I knew one such Godfather type—Frankie Burelli—and he was the real ex-Mafioso deal, unlike these three runny-eyed meth heads.
That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. I should know. I used to run with them.
“What about that hot bitch. Bet she’s loaded.” Kyle stroked the straggly ends of his sad attempt at a goatee.
Even from several feet away his unwashed stench nearly made my eyes tear
“I’ll let you do it.” Her hair whipped over her shoulder as she met my burning gaze.
I inhaled harshly, the image of her baring her tits for me, holding still while I pierced her nipples, overwhelmed me with a surge of animal-like lust.
Not yet though.
Dragging my shirt back on, I grinned. “You have to earn it first.”
“What?” Her voice rose several octaves.
“You heard me.” I checked the clock.
Twenty minutes until my next appointment. Definitely not enough time to do what I wanted to with her. Not here. Not now.
Sin wouldn’t go down without a fight, of course. That was what made baiting her so damn fun.
She shoved me on the shoulder when I turned back to my sketch.
“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear, Cole. I’m the Executive Director of The Fairley-Chatham Family Foundation. I manage millions of dollars per annum. I might’ve been privileged”—she stomped her foot—“but I work for what I have, and I’m damn successful. So if you think you can keep treating me like some harebrained flake just because of where I come from—”
“Then act like it, precious.” I cut her off mid-riff.
Pressing up onto her tiptoes, she got in my face, hissing, “Stop calling me that.”
I glanced behind her, then quickly pushed her away from me. Three rough-looking losers were outside with their hands all over her car.
“You need to leave now.” I prodded her to the door, going cold all over.
“But I’m not done—”
“You’re done. We are done.” My voice flinty hard, I urged her to hurry up as the gang bangers strutted inside.
Sin continued to resist until a skanky, skin-and-bones asshole brushed against her.
“Hey there, honey. What’s the rush?” He sneered at her.
Another one tried to sandwich her on the other side, his disgusting leer barely visible through a scraggly goatee. “Yeah. You look like you could be fun.”
Chapter Four
“GET THE FUCK AWAY from her,” I growled, forcing my way between Sin and the wasters.
Kyle, Brett, and Curtis were nightmares from my past.
Maybe sensing she was out of her element in a major way, Sin zipped her mouth shut and hustled the hell out.
My old gang glued themselves to the windows to watch her. The second she unlocked the muscle car, the crude comments began:
“That rich bitch needs a cock in her hand, not a gearstick.”
“I hear that. I’ll be her gear daddy.”
“Piston the shit out of her,” scumbag number three said.
Shaking with rage, I only released a breath when Sin started the engine and squealed out of her spot. She shot down the road and out of sight.
With nothing else to keep their attention, the trio of thuglies turned to me.
“What the fuck do you want?” I pounded my fist down on the counter.
“Hey, Coletrane, that ain’t no way to greet old friends.” Curtis pushed off the hood of his sweatshirt, revealing red-rimmed eyes, a red-tipped nose, and hacked off mouse-turd brown hair.
He looked scrawnier and more tweaked than ever.
“You aren’t my friends.” Years ago I used to look just like him.
Down on my luck. Looking for a buck. Blitzed out of my head and needing a bigger dose of crank to reach my high.
Now I was bigger, stronger, smarter. And clean. I didn’t scare easy, just so long as these three delinquents never made a connection between Sinclair and me.
“We came to squeeze you for some money.” Brett, the biggest of the group, shoved up to the counter.
Maybe he was mixing steroids with his crystal.
“Who the hell do you think you are? The Godfather?” I knew one such Godfather type—Frankie Burelli—and he was the real ex-Mafioso deal, unlike these three runny-eyed meth heads.
That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. I should know. I used to run with them.
“What about that hot bitch. Bet she’s loaded.” Kyle stroked the straggly ends of his sad attempt at a goatee.
Even from several feet away his unwashed stench nearly made my eyes tear
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