“Sorry. I shouldn’t have stared.”
“I wish people would. Then they would get over their embarrassment.”
“You’re still a beautiful woman, Mal. I’m getting a drink. Want one?”
I nod and as I watch Firebird saunters over to the bar, a shadow falls over me, and I look up to find Oyster standing beside me. “I thought today was your day at Sugar and Spice.”
I lick my suddenly dry lips. This is what the man does to me. He turns me into a useless mess who forgets how to think. “Obviously not.” Oyster sits in the seat Firebird just vacated, and I glance over his shoulder. The whore who had been on his knees five minutes ago is missing. “I thought you would have left with your friend.”
Oyster shrugs and I wiggle on my seat as his gaze lingers at the vee of my tee-shirt. My fingers itch to reach up and pull at the material. To cover the rest of my scars. Yet the look he gives me is not repulsion, but one that has my pussy on fire as my clit pulses. I haven’t been sexually attracted to a man since my attack and I hate it that Oyster Keys is the man who sets my blood on fire. “She’s working later. Anyway, it was you I wanted to speak to.”
My stomach twists and I grip my pen. “About what?”
“TJ tells me you’re looking for a new apartment.”
“TJ talks too much.”
Oyster chuckles as he scratches his chest, dragging my attention to his throat. It is a strong sturdy throat and I have this urge to know what his skin tastes of. My tongue swipes over my lips, which I pull back in at the sudden flame in the biker’s gaze.
“How come you’re looking for a new place?”
Again, my fingers go to the scars on my face. Oyster scowls as he reaches over and brushes my hand away. My flesh burns from his touch. There are two kinds of men. Men who think I’m easy and thankful for any attention I receive because of my disfigurement and expect me to fall into bed with them. The others. They don’t look at me and if they do, it is with repulsion. My landlord’s son is one of the men from the first group. Each time I leave my apartment or return to it, he is there at the bottom of the stairs waiting. “My lease is due for renewal and the landlord plans to increase my rent.”
“Want me to talk to him?”
I shake my head, “I’m sure it’ll be easier to find somewhere else to live.”
Oyster chuckles and I glance over my shoulder, searching for Firebird. Wondering how long it takes to fetch a couple of beers, but when I check the bar, she has disappeared.
“Day called her out.”
I turn back to Oyster. “he did?”
Oyster nods, “it can’t be that easy to find somewhere to live if you mentioned it to TJ.”
I shrug. “I needed time off to view a couple of apartments. That’s how he found out. Otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it to him.”
“And how did that go?”
“They weren’t suitable.”
“There’s a spare room at Ma Keys you can rent.”
My heart skids against my ribcage as I draw in a large deep breath. “Your mother’s.” Oyster nods. Shit, it’s bad enough running into him either here or at Sugar and Spice. But at his mother’s. “I’m looking for something more private.”
“Ma won’t bother you. It’s on the top floor. Has its own bathroom. Besides, she could do with the money. We can take a ride over if you want. Check it out.”
My head pounds, and the air whistles through my ears as my hands turn clammy. It was one thing to daydream about Oyster, but to be up close to him as I ride pillion on his bike, has me wetting my panties. “Shouldn’t you ask her first?”
Oyster rises from his seat, pulling out his bike keys from his jean pocket. His smile turns my knees to water as I remain in my seat. “Come on, let’s go.”
Oyster turns and strolls towards the door. I glance at the books on the table and scan the room. Firebird is nowhere to be seen. With one last look at Oyster’s retreating back, I pick up my cell from the table and text Firebird.
The ride to Ma Key’s is as tempestuous as I thought it would be. Refusing to hold on to Oyster’s waist, I gripped the bar under the seat, keeping my gaze on his back. He’s a River Demon. I already have enough demons I’m hiding from, and I don’t plan to add any more to the bundle.
“Well. What to do you think?”
I blink as Oyster’s voice brings me out of my dreams and glance around the room. Shit. I run an escort agency with TJ. I’ve met a few of his clients. But as I stand in Ma Key’s attic, I have never been more aware of a man than I am of Oyster and the raw sexual appeal as I am now. I draw my gaze away from the biker, and the gleam in his eyes as I scan the attic. The room, as he calls it, is the full length of the house. There is plenty of light. The walls are painted a pale yellow. At the top of the stairs, there is a door which closes the attic off from the rest of the house. There is a large flat screen television hanging on the wall and a sofa with a green crochet comforter thrown over the back. The bed is further down the room and I lick my lips as an image of Oyster and me on the bed. Our bodies twisting as we pant. Sweat drips down my
