Read Online A WILDer Kind of Love by Angel Payne - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angel Payne
Ads: Link
taunted. “Dude, I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” he snapped. “Breathing? Sitting? Enjoying my drink?”
“Gawking? Scowling?” The guy chuckled again. “And sure as hell not ‘enjoying’ yourself.” He suddenly frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve played with her before.”
“No.” He had no idea why the clarification felt so important. “Fuck, no.”
Max settled in lower, meaning he leaned closer. Nearly beneath his breath, he murmured, “So do it now.”
“ Fuck no.”
“You want to, Colton. Don’t tell me you don’t.”
He jerked up his head. “You know what I was doing one week ago tonight, don’t you? Looking at these hands as they shook, Brick. Shook because I didn’t know if I could hold myself back from killing Cameron Stock as we flew his sorry ass back to the states.”
“But you didn’t.” Max notched his stance one degree closer. “And I’ll bet, my friend, that you need to shut off the world as badly as she does. Maybe this is exactly what you need, too.”
He hated how much that made sense. How much he couldn’t retort that hooking him up with Tess would mean the monkey was off Max’s back. Max was a lifestyle purist who actually liked the monkeys, so that argument had no teeth.
What was he supposed to do now? Stride over and inform Tess that— ta da —here he was, and he’d changed his mind? That getting a good look at her in latex had reformed him about getting into a playroom with her? It’d be a lie. She could’ve worn a damn potato sack, and watching her walk off with any man would mangle him worse than a totaled semi.
Who was he kidding? He’d already been tossed into the scrap heap, dammit—and now glared hopelessly at the two metal plates about to crush him, one stamped with Damned if you do the other stamped with Damned if you don’t .
“What I need is to get the hell out of here,” he finally answered Max. “Look, if you can just call me a cab, then—”
He spoke to empty air. Max had gone ninja. Tamago didn’t provide any clues as to where he’d disappeared either, having moved to the other end of the bar, absorbed in conversation with a newly arrived couple to the club.
“Shit.” He fought a weird paralysis. He didn’t dare look back at gauge where Tess had traveled in the room. Did it matter? He could pretend not to notice her, that her mask was meeting its purpose, that her hair hadn’t already given her away like a signal flare.
Or he could really just get the hell out of here.
Just as he pulled out his phone and punched in a search string for reputable cab companies, a text blazed across his screen—from ninja boy.
:: I have an idea. Meet me in the storeroom behind the bar. ::
“Shit,” he repeated. “The last time I bought into one of your ‘ideas’, Brickham…”
Was all too recently. Tait’s bachelor party, at Gilley’s two weeks ago. Everyone had gotten blotto except him. Not one of the most memorable nights of his life—probably because he could remember it.
But going to the storeroom meant he wasn’t sitting out here, waiting for Tess to spot him like a fly on a pest strip.
He walked into the storage area to find his friend wearing a cocky smile. Hanging from one of Max’s massive hands was a half-face mask, decorated with very little except some silver filigree at the outside edges. In the palm of his other hand was a black disk about the size of a quarter.
Before Dan could say anything, Max drawled, “If you can’t beat her, join her, buddy.”
“The hell?”
Max shoved the mask at him. “Try it on.”
He stepped back. “No.”
“Shut up and try it on, you wuss.” He slammed the thing into Dan’s chest. “It got the Phantom of the Opera some tail, right?”
“The fuck it did.”
“You want to tell me he took that hot chorus girl down to his grotto and didn’t take advantage of the setting?” Brick leaned against the cooler door. “We’ve even got a grotto here, you
“Like what?” he snapped. “Breathing? Sitting? Enjoying my drink?”
“Gawking? Scowling?” The guy chuckled again. “And sure as hell not ‘enjoying’ yourself.” He suddenly frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve played with her before.”
“No.” He had no idea why the clarification felt so important. “Fuck, no.”
Max settled in lower, meaning he leaned closer. Nearly beneath his breath, he murmured, “So do it now.”
“ Fuck no.”
“You want to, Colton. Don’t tell me you don’t.”
He jerked up his head. “You know what I was doing one week ago tonight, don’t you? Looking at these hands as they shook, Brick. Shook because I didn’t know if I could hold myself back from killing Cameron Stock as we flew his sorry ass back to the states.”
“But you didn’t.” Max notched his stance one degree closer. “And I’ll bet, my friend, that you need to shut off the world as badly as she does. Maybe this is exactly what you need, too.”
He hated how much that made sense. How much he couldn’t retort that hooking him up with Tess would mean the monkey was off Max’s back. Max was a lifestyle purist who actually liked the monkeys, so that argument had no teeth.
What was he supposed to do now? Stride over and inform Tess that— ta da —here he was, and he’d changed his mind? That getting a good look at her in latex had reformed him about getting into a playroom with her? It’d be a lie. She could’ve worn a damn potato sack, and watching her walk off with any man would mangle him worse than a totaled semi.
Who was he kidding? He’d already been tossed into the scrap heap, dammit—and now glared hopelessly at the two metal plates about to crush him, one stamped with Damned if you do the other stamped with Damned if you don’t .
“What I need is to get the hell out of here,” he finally answered Max. “Look, if you can just call me a cab, then—”
He spoke to empty air. Max had gone ninja. Tamago didn’t provide any clues as to where he’d disappeared either, having moved to the other end of the bar, absorbed in conversation with a newly arrived couple to the club.
“Shit.” He fought a weird paralysis. He didn’t dare look back at gauge where Tess had traveled in the room. Did it matter? He could pretend not to notice her, that her mask was meeting its purpose, that her hair hadn’t already given her away like a signal flare.
Or he could really just get the hell out of here.
Just as he pulled out his phone and punched in a search string for reputable cab companies, a text blazed across his screen—from ninja boy.
:: I have an idea. Meet me in the storeroom behind the bar. ::
“Shit,” he repeated. “The last time I bought into one of your ‘ideas’, Brickham…”
Was all too recently. Tait’s bachelor party, at Gilley’s two weeks ago. Everyone had gotten blotto except him. Not one of the most memorable nights of his life—probably because he could remember it.
But going to the storeroom meant he wasn’t sitting out here, waiting for Tess to spot him like a fly on a pest strip.
He walked into the storage area to find his friend wearing a cocky smile. Hanging from one of Max’s massive hands was a half-face mask, decorated with very little except some silver filigree at the outside edges. In the palm of his other hand was a black disk about the size of a quarter.
Before Dan could say anything, Max drawled, “If you can’t beat her, join her, buddy.”
“The hell?”
Max shoved the mask at him. “Try it on.”
He stepped back. “No.”
“Shut up and try it on, you wuss.” He slammed the thing into Dan’s chest. “It got the Phantom of the Opera some tail, right?”
“The fuck it did.”
“You want to tell me he took that hot chorus girl down to his grotto and didn’t take advantage of the setting?” Brick leaned against the cooler door. “We’ve even got a grotto here, you
Similar Books
