I crave it.
I miss him, damn it.
The second our glasses are empty, I stretch up on my tiptoes and shout in Xander’s ear.
“Let’s go dance.”
He pulls back a little, looking me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. They’re due any minute and I’d rather not end the night with a broken nose.”
“Aw, Xanny,” I say, resting my hands on his chest. “You can handle my husband, can’t you?” I tease. “The big bad biker isn’t really scared of the pretentious mafia prince?”
“I’m not scared of him, Shorty. I’d just really rather not get into it and have both of us spend the night in a cell. Not when he’s going to spend the night inside you.”
“You’re wicked, Xanny.” I wink. “Now, man up, and let’s go. I need to move.”