I scowled at him, but he gave me a chin lift in challenge. I gave him a silent challenge of my own. One that would come in the form of my fist in his face at a time of my choosing. I turned and headed toward Alamo’s office, not caring if Lyric followed me or not.
She did, but it took her a minute because she was still on crutches. I should have been a gentleman and helped her, but as I’m sure she’d discovered in her file, I was an asshole and it was important she didn’t forget it.
Stepping into the office, I opened the tequila and took a long pull before setting it on Alamo’s desk and leaning against the wood. I crossed my arms and waited for Lyric to hobble inside and close the door.
God, she looked gorgeous. She wore a long black and white striped skirt with a slit that obviously helped her maneuver with her boot. Her tight white T-shirt showcased full tits and she’d left her long, blonde hair to fall like a cascade of spun gold around her shoulders. She had a satchel slung diagonally over her shoulder, and the strap settled between her breasts which drew focus and my dick took notice.
I shook my head. I had to shut this shit down.
“What do you want, Lyric?”
“I…I’m really sorry,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Great,” I said, standing. “Have a nice life.”
“I handled today badly,” she whispered. “I am so, so sorry.” She fumbled with her bag, managing to open it with one hand and pulling out a large manila envelope, thrusting it at me. “Take it. I haven’t even looked at it. I have no idea what’s in it. You could be a serial killer for all I know. Or a gigolo.” She wrinkled her nose. “But, honestly, I don’t know which one would be worse to have on your record.”
I couldn’t deal with her beautiful mouth forming words anymore, especially when her eyes grew a little misty and the sincerity of her apology went straight to my dick. I closed the distance between us and covered her mouth with mine, my hand sliding to her neck and stroking her pulse as I deepened the kiss.
Jesus, she tasted like a fuckin’ mint julep. Southern belle to the core.
I heard the clatter of her crutches hitting the floor and she gripped my cut as she held on for dear life, mewing quietly before breaking the kiss. “Oh my god.”
Fuck.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” she rasped.
“No.”
She met my eyes. “Do you really think I have a skinny ass?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Good. I spend a shit ton of time at the gym getting that butt…well, I did before the accident. I was nervous it was disappearing.”
“It’s not.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“Are you fucking seriously saying that right now?”
She shrugged. “Well, now that I’m forgiven, I figured we could have a more lighthearted conversation.”
“You’re not forgiven.”
She smiled. “Yes, I am.”
“How do you figure?”
“You kissed me.”
“I’m a gigolo. I kiss a lot of women.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, ho, so now we’re finally sharing personal information.”
