His cock was as hard as my pussy was wet.
"Fuck," he said, the sound a mix of angry, turned on, and resigned. "Fuck," he repeated, dropping Coop's leash into my hand, turning, and walking away.
I sank my ass back against the wall, not sure my legs would be able to hold me any longer.
My heart was thudding alarmingly in my chest as my sex clenched painfully with the need for release.
Beside me, Coop wagged his tail as I turned to watch Eli disappear into the night.
Fuck.
That had been his parting word.
And, well, that just about covered it.
Fuck.FIVEShaneThey had all been out looking for him for fucking hours. It was starting to seem hopeless. Hell, even Scotti's four brothers were scouring the town along with them.
Nothing.
Everyone was pretty much ready to start heading home to help out with the kids, to see their women.
And that was where Shane was heading, coming back from Third Street territory where no one would claim to having seen Eli.
He had slowed down for a stop sign when something big and multi-colored and oddly familiar caught his peripheral.
There was no stopping the laugh that burst out of him at the sight of that hideous, oversized mutt that the entire family had been looking for for years. Right there. Down a side street. On a leash. Looking well taken care of.
At that thought, his eyes drifted over and up.
And fuck if he didn't hit two birds with one motherfucking stone.
Because there was Eli.
Mouth and hands all over some woman.
If he figured right, it was likely the woman who had been taking care of Coop all these years.
And that was right where Eli went when he got out.
Maybe he should have stopped, charged down there, demanded an explanation for the years of disconnect. But, well, the poor fuck had been on the inside for six years. He didn't blame him for wanting to get some action first thing.
What mattered was, he was in town.
He was okay.
The rest would fall into place.
Wait until he told the rest of the fucks this shit...SIXEliI had no right to put my hands on her.
Not even if I had fucking permission.
She didn't need to be near a man like me.
I had no right to even show up at her store, to exploit some weakness she obviously had toward me, for whatever reason she had it.
Then I went and kissed her?
And it wasn't just any kiss either.
It was the holy fucking grail of them.
It was like a dying man after a meal.
She should have pushed me away, scolded me for pushing too hard too fast. Instead, she was rubbing her hips against my cock, practically begging for fulfillment.
As for me, I was too fucking far gone even to realize the lines I was crossing with her.
Until Coop reminded me.
Was it a dick move to turn and walk away from her right then? Ah, yeah. But it would have been an even bigger dick move to keep going, to take advantage, to fuck her right against the wall in that alley, no matter how much every cell in my body was begging for me to do just that.
I walked back to my place more sexually frustrated than I had ever been in my life.
And I didn't relieve myself of it either.
Apparently, after six years of punishment, I still wasn't done getting down on myself.
Maybe I never would be.
On a growl, I grabbed a bunch of the bags left in the living room and hauled ass upstairs to my studio, planning to lose myself in some project until my brain cleared up, until I got the thoughts of her out.
I realized, just shy of sunrise, how impossible that would be.
Because, brain focused for the first time in hours, I realized what I had been so focused on.
A goddamn portrait of her.
Standing in her store.
Seeing me for the first time.
On her gorgeous face there was a look of shock, of complete disbelief and, if I wasn't mistaken, genuine relief.
Because I hadn't been shanked in a shower as her sister had suggested.
I should have turned and backed out right then.
She shouldn't have been relieved to see me.
But there seemed to be no reasoning with myself right then.
I think, above all else, something inside of me was begging for some kind of connection to the outside world, a connection that didn't tie back to my prison time the way my friendship with Bobby did.
Since my family was off-limits, Autumn was really all that I had.
Even though the only reason I knew anything about her at all was through prison letters, I don't know, it felt different. She never felt tainted by it, marred with its ugly the way Bobby and I were.
Through all the letters, I had learned a lot about her preferences for movies, music, food, TV, and weather. She hated horror, but watched Oz out of curiosity. She loved tomato soup, but hated tomatoes. She didn't listen to hard rock or rap, but loved indie and classic rock. She loathed summer with a passion, and thought snow was the most magical thing in the world.