Body trembling, muscles clenching, I pant out, “Bae.”
A lot. A lot of times is the answer to his question. Orgasming has never been my problem. Finding enough ways to orgasm has.
Head resting back, I suck in a breath and clear my scratchy throat, refusing to let his filthy mouth deter me. “Brodi is taking me for a ride. Come with us?” I encourage.
“I bet he is.” Bae laughs and removes his hand from between my thighs.
I roll my eyes and cross my legs.
Vee shakes his head, taking my question seriously. “No. Not tonight. Bay and I have some business to take care of.”
Just as I expected. “What business might that be?” I try yet again.
“Oh, you know… a little grocery shopping. Things like that.”
I narrow a glare at him, and he chuckles. “Any requests?”
“Those jalapeño cheese puff things,” I state way too easily.
“Consider it done,” he responds, lifting me off his lap and slapping me on the side of the thigh to shoo me away.
I shuffle off into the dressing room, figuring it would probably be best that I wear pants. Exhausted, yet not, I plop into the chair in front of my favorite vanity, toss my head back, and close my eyes.
My mind is like a damn filing cabinet with every single drawer open. I slowly begin to visualize closing each file, one by one, as I mentally tick off things in order of importance.
When I get to Jess’s file, my eyes spring wide. I lean forward and start searching all over the vanity, in the drawers, underneath it, everywhere for my cell phone, but with no luck.
Tapping my finger against my lips, my gaze roves around the room. The place is absolutely wrecked. An icy fear solidifies in my chest. The silhouette of a large body standing near the doorway nearly has my ass lifting a mile high off the metal chair.
I would recognize those wolf-like eyes anywhere, though. Or, rather, Coyote-like. “Dammit, you scared the shit out of me.”
Coty lifts his hand, displaying a palm-sized device. “Looking for this?” he asks.
“Yes.” I stand and walk over to him on shaky legs and reach for it. He yanks the phone away, grabs my wrist with his opposite hand, and pulls me in tight, fingers bruising.
He then recites ten numbers by memory under his breath. “Who is that, Lace?”
I jerk my hand away from him, step back, and begin peeling his hoodie off my body, eyes locking on him steady except for when the hoodie covers my sight on the way off. “Repeat it,” I state.
He does… as if he has had the number memorized for a lifetime. Not even I have the number memorized. The area code gives its owner away. “Remi. Cali girl, new to the area. Been fooling around with the street racers lately. Seems her interest is with the Revelry crew more than any of the other Gulf Coasters, though.”
Coty looks less than convinced. He digs deeper, eyebrow raised inquisitively. “If she’s screwing around with Revelry, she must be driving something pretty impressive.”
A mix between a cough and laugh comes out of me. The Universe is in a humorous mood tonight apparently. “She actually rides a Duc.” That trips Coty up for sure. “Black and everything. If she didn’t have a killer ass and knockout tits, defined even with her leather on, locals might mistake her as one of you. Stoney did, in fact. ‘Bout had a damn coronary when he heard about the black Duc causing havoc on the streets in his territory. Until someone assured him there wasn’t a patch on her leather.”
“She race it?”
I shrug. “Our acquaintance is distanced at best. We had a couple mutual goals, helped each other out. Word got out that she was having some trouble with her old man. I made sure he could never step inside the saloon — didn’t want the likes of his kind stirring up the pot here anyway. Tipped off the doormen; you know, that sort of thing. Her Duc is not quite as… expensive… as yours.”
“Not many are,” he states, smug.
Completely naked now, I step forward. “Better?” I ask, slipping my hand around my phone and slowly prying it out of his fingers while pushing up on my tiptoes and giving him a small kiss.
He sighs deeply and on the exhale his warm breath flutters against my face. “I guess.”
I can’t decide what turns me on more, his caveman-like behavior or how he caves for me when I provide him the honesty he so often assumes I will refuse.
Coty steps forward, and I step backward. We continue this dance, eyes locked, until my body bumps into the vanity, and we can no longer continue on that path. I toss my phone back onto the top of my bag, breath hitching as he wedges me tighter between him and the table edge.