I was curious.

“We’re not going to bang.”

“Okay, so what’re we gonna do?”

“You bang someone you give a gold bracelet to to say good-bye when you’ve lost interest in banging her. The man I am does not bang a woman like you.”

Oh Lord.

His brows drew together as he watched my face. “Are you going to cry again?”

“No,” I snapped, though I was feeling close to it. So I needed a retreat, stat. “Go away. I need to crawl into your huge-ass bed, smell you on your sheets, and fight the desire to ask you to let it be me who puts a bullet into that jackass’s forehead.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

I blinked at the sudden change in the tone of his voice.

It wasn’t just firm.

It was steel grating against steel.

“I was just joshin’,” I told him carefully.

“Well, I’m not. I do what I do. I have other concerns that I’m growing alongside those you don’t know about, you’ll never know about, but know they’re there. I do this to assure the future I intend to have. That’s the part of my life where you’ll have your place. The only part. This gets done, you live in that light. I never put you in any dark.”

“Okay, sugar,” I soothed, because I needed to soothe. The sparks flying off his steel were singeing me.

The heat went out of his gaze, he bent and touched his mouth to mine, and then he gave my neck a squeeze.

He did all this right before he didn’t play fair.

“Now, go to bed, baby. And if you do something while you’re wrapped up in my sheets that I’d love, but right now knowing you were doing it would kill me, please be quiet. I intend to be.”

My eyes got huge.

His got wicked.

Then he brushed his lips against mine again, took his time trailing his hand from my neck so his fingers went all the way through my hair before he stepped away and walked away, not looking back.

Still, I watched until he disappeared through a door down the hall.

Okay, giving you the honesty.

I watched his ass until it disappeared through a door down the hall.

But there was some shoulder watching too.

I closed the door to his room, got ready for bed, and for the first time since what happened to me happened to me, I took care of business wrapped up in Marcus’s sheets.

And really, who could blame me?

Not to mention, he’d totally primed me so it was awesome.

And not once did I think about what had happened to me.

Oh no.

After I took care of myself as quiet as I could, I rolled over, smelled Marcus, closed my eyes with a smile on my face, and slept like a baby.

Chapter Nine

Love Boat

Daisy

I sat with my bare feet up on a chair in the dressing room at Smithie’s, a cold Fat Tire beer in my hand.

The beer was not my choice. It was Wynter’s birthday. She wanted a tub filled with Fat Tire, so Smithie left one for us in the dressing room. Though it wasn’t my choice, it was the first time I’d ever had it and that beer was yum.

My contribution was a big birthday sheet cake practically covered with huge frosting roses.

Oh, and the cake also had the words Happy Birthday, Wynter! and the whole thing was covered in edible glitter dust.

I was sipping and grinning at Chardonnay, who was telling a story.

“So then I was all, ‘What’s your problem?’ And she was all, ‘I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem?’ And I was all, ‘Do you see me talking to this guy?” And she was all, ‘Whatever.’ And I was all, ‘Not whatever. You just came up to him while I was talking to him and shoved your tits in his face.’ And she was all, ‘I did not do that.’ And I was all, ‘I got eyes in my head, don’t I?’ And then the guy says, ‘You did do that. And it was not cool. I’m talking to her.’” Her face got dreamy and so did her voice when she finished, “His name was Dylan, and he was fine.”

Then she gave me big eyes.

“How fine, sugar bunch?” I asked.

She lifted her hands and held her pointed fingers out at least ten inches. “Fine.”

That was when my eyes got big. “That is fine.”

“So what happened with this chick?” Ashlynn asked.

“She bitchslapped her,” Paris put in. “I was there. It was fucking aces.”

“Good for you,” I said to Chardonnay.

“You got that right, sister,” Chardonnay replied.

We giggled.

“Know this chick,” Paris said into our giggles, grabbing up a handful of the cashews that Ashlynn brought, which, as far as I was concerned, seriously classed up a birthday party in a stripper dressing room. Then again, cashews classed up anything. “Her name is Dawn. She’s so good spreadin’ her bitch around, think she’s goin’ for the world record of bitchdom.”

Then she threw back the cashews.

“Dawn?” China sidled up, pulling out her own Fat Tire and reaching for the opener. “I think I know her. She went after my girl Bethany’s man. He is hot.” Her face got distracted. “Though I think she’s just a booty call. His name is Hawk. And that night when that Dawn chick made her move was the only time he’s been seen with her in public and that’s only because he was pickin’ her up from this party so he could have his booty call.”

“This dude’s name is Hawk?” Chardonnay asked.