“It’s a girl I met last night,” I tell him.
“I thought that you said that things were quiet at the Claw.” He doesn’t sound angry, but I know that that emotion is always simmering just below the surface. Fuck, family is complicated, and anyone who tells you different is a goddamn liar.
“They were.” I don’t really want to get into my night last night, but as always, Arlo is happy to help.
“Things were quiet, but his little piece of ass wasn’t.” He grins at me and swirls his whiskey before taking a sip.
“Fuck you, brother, you’d already left. What the fuck do you know?” I’m squeezing my whiskey glass so tight that my fingers are starting to ache, but I manage to keep my face calm. There’s no way that I’m going to let on how pissed I really am, especially not in front of Pops.
“I heard.” Arlo leans back in his chair and grins at me, but before I can respond, Ricky’s phone buzzes. Everyone looks at it, even Pops, which surprises me, because he doesn’t usually take interest in who his kids are fucking.
“You want the info now?” Ricky asks as he looks at his phone
No. I fucking want it when we’re by ourselves so that nobody else gets to hear about my sweet little Eva. My goal is to keep her to myself for as long as possible.
“Read it.” Pops’ voice cuts through my thoughts. “I want to hear about this little piece of ass that has my son all twisted up and not thinking straight.”
Fuck.
Chapter 5
Eva
Fuck. I do not want to go to work tonight. Hell, I don’t even want to get out of bed today if that means that I need to look in the mirror and come to grips with what I did last night. My phone alarm is buzzing incessantly at me and I reach out to smack it but only succeed in hitting my hand on my dresser.
“Son of a bitch!” I yell, sitting up and holding my wrist. It’s throbbing, but I’m now awake enough to actually reach over and grab my phone without more injury. I’ve been snoozing for a while now, and the snooze button has disappeared, so I turn it off and slide out of bed.
Shit, my pussy is sore. I stretch, leaning over and grabbing my ankles and trying to work out some of the tightness in my hips. Last night was…not like me.
Okay? It was amazing, and yeah, I went to bed last night thinking about that guy and what he’d done to my clit and my cunt, but it simply can’t happen again. It was the first time I’d had sex in almost forever, and I’d told myself that when I was with another person again that it would be special.
Not that that wasn’t special, but…I shouldn’t have done it. The memory of his dark eyes and the way his tattoos peeked out from his shirt cuffs makes me moan and I squeeze my thighs together before dropping down into a sun salutation.
I have to wake up. Normally, a little yoga gets my blood pumping and helps me shake any funk that I’m in, but right now I can’t seem to shake the feeling of his hands on my body. And I don’t even know his name. What the hell is wrong with me?
Shaking my head, I stand up and stretch once more before heading to the shower. I hate my apartment, and it’s so small that I’m afraid to have friends over, but at least it’s mine. After getting married when I was still in high school and then staying with him well after when I should have left, it’s just exciting to have something that I can claim is really mine.
The hot water feels great on my back and I arch under the spray, trying to ignore the fact that when I stand up straight, I hit my head on the shower head. I swear, I’m going to have a permanent bruise there from all the times that I’ve hit it.
Without thinking about what I’m doing, I start to sing. I’m not great, by any means, but it’s late enough in the afternoon that my neighbors will all be up. If I sing in the morning, I usually wake someone up and have to deal with them pounding on my door to make me shut up.
Two o’clock seems like a fair time to start singing. My shift at the strip club is in two hours. I shave my legs and shampoo my hair, enjoying the suds dripping down around my shoulders. They slide down my body and I follow their tracks with my hands, enjoying the way my hands skim and slip over my curves.
A flush of heat between my legs reminds me of last night. If I put my hands on my hips, I can almost remember what it felt like to have his fingers dig into me. He’d held me in place and…taken me. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever had sex like that, especially not with my ex.
What the hell am I doing? My fingers flutter between my legs, but I pull my hand back, my face burning bright. I don’t even know the guy’s name, and here I am ready to touch myself just thinking about him?
My face still burning, I turn off the shower and step out, toweling off quickly. I have to get out of my shower. He’s never been here, and it’s going to stay that way, but right now it feels so constricting that I don’t think I can breathe.
Going from a lawyer’s salary to that of a cocktail waitress was hard, and there were a lot of sacrifices that I had to make. One thing that I refused to sacrifice on were my towels, and after I got my first good night of tips from waiting tables I’d gone to the store and bought new, fluffy towels. Now,
