Page 21 of Floodgates

I cleared my throat. “Did it ever occur to you or Alex that if my partner was a criminal, having the brother of a DEA agent working for him wouldn’t be too smart?”

His gaze stayed locked on mine.

“So maybe, just maybe, he’s a legitimate businessman.”

“No, that never crossed my mind.”

“And maybe seeing you out here he thought I was your late-night booty call and that’s why he left.”

“What?”

“Or maybe,” I said cheekily, “you’re mine.”

“I’m your what?” he asked indignantly.

“The man I call to come fuck me at”—I checked my dive watch—“twelve thirty on a weeknight.”

He got to his feet, as did I, and only because I’d stepped up to the porch, two up, was I taller than him. On equal ground, he could rest his chin on the top of my head as he was six five to my five eleven. He was bulkier too, covered in thick, heavy muscle. “No one in their right mind thinks you call me and I come running. You’re deluded if you think so.”

My eyes fluttered at how full of himself he was.

“Trace.”

“What?” I asked as he joined me on the porch.

He took hold of my chin and tilted my head back so he was gazing down into my eyes. “Please don’t give your brother any more heart palpitations.”

“I’ll try.”

Taking a step forward, into my space, he leaned close, and under the porch lights, I could see the sepia flecks in his moss-green eyes.

“Thank you for waiting for the changing of the guard.”

“You’re welcome.”

His hand was warm, and whether he realized it or not, his thumb was rubbing over my jaw.

“Do you want to come in?” I swallowed so I wouldn’t make any telltale whimpering sound of desire. I was hurt, and I wanted someone to lie in bed beside me and watch TV while I slept. Even more, I wanted to be fucked through the mattress. There had been no one since Breckin, and that had been four months ago. I wanted, needed, a man. It took everything in me not to yell at him to get his ass in my bed. It was the alcohol, and I knew that, but it didn’t help the hunger for him. My inhibitions were nonexistent. I wanted more than anything to be naked under him, under his hands.

“I better not,” he said, dragging his thumb along my bottom lip before he let me go. “You’re a little too defenseless tonight.”

I was going to ask what the hell that meant, but he turned and left me on my front step watching him do what he always did—walk away.

Chapter 3

ORIGINALLY MY agenda for Saturday night had been for Matt, Eric, and me to meet Ira and his new girlfriend, Courtney Abernathy, out at a club they would enjoy. But then Courtney had asked to bring along her two best girlfriends, and I had added Breckin because I was a gutless coward. So what had started out small had gotten bigger than I had wanted, and that was before Alex called earlier in the evening and interrogated me about where I was going. He never questioned—he demanded. In the dictionary under “overprotective” there should have been a picture of my brother the DEA agent.

The only part of my plan that remained was the place I chose. Mabon was a mixed club, which was good for our mixed group, and I’d already had a couple of mojitos by the time everyone started showing up.

“Does the bartender make a good cosmo here?” Eric asked me.

“Yeah, really good. Order one.”

“Get me one too,” Matt chimed in.

“Yes, dear,” he said, leaving the high table near the dance floor that I’d commandeered.

Matt leaned in close to me. “I love it when he calls me dear, even when he’s being sarcastic.”