She laughed a little shrilly and then the next thing I knew she launched herself at me so that I had to use both hands to catch her.
“You’re right.” I wanted to demand to know what she was thinking. I wanted to ask why she had decided to throw down with a stripper, but before my tongue unleashed the words, her mouth locked on mine and then there was no thinking. There was just heat, the tang of blood, and all the sweetness that always seemed to rise above the tartness when it came to this woman.
Chapter 7
Reeve
I COULD TOLERATE A lot of things. I was immune to nasty words and thought very little of the people that slung them around carelessly. I had grown used to hearing that I was a rat. I often heard the word backstabber mumbled as people walked by. I had been labeled a sellout, a traitor, but even worse was the disappointment I saw in Titus’s eyes every time I got just close enough for him to realize exactly who it was that had her hands on him, what kind of woman it was that made his eyes bleed all their color and burn white hot with craving and need. It stripped little pieces away from what was left of my dignity when he looked that way because the disappointment wasn’t directed at me but inward. He struggled with the way he wanted me, fought against big, powerful things that rose up inside him when we touched, and it hurt that he wouldn’t give in to them. I wasn’t sure he even knew they were there, but I could see them shining out of him and hear them calling to me louder and louder the harder Titus tried to quiet them down. The cop had more going on than his duty to serve and protect, and I wanted to dig into all of it.
Apparently the situation between me and the handsome detective bothered Honor as well. I knew Keelyn Foster and her glittery stripper skin outside of Spanky’s. She was one of my regular clients when I worked down here in the District doing hair. She was tough as nails, spoke her mind, and if there was ever a reigning queen of the Point it was her. She was tough and unbelievably beautiful. She was also unabashedly honest and had no problem getting right up in my face and telling me that Titus was a good man, too good for the likes of me, and that I should keep my bloodstained paws off of him. It should have been ridiculous. The words were trite and obvious and she delivered them dressed in nothing but a sparkly G-string and a pair of platform heels that almost made her the same height as me. But it was there in her frosty gray eyes. She really thought Titus was above me, thought I was somehow going to dirty him up and drag him down to the level she and I were at, and she didn’t approve. It rubbed me the wrong way, maybe the truth in it, maybe the way I knew she was honestly concerned about what being associated with me would do to Titus’s reputation. I only wanted to help him and every time I turned around someone was shoving it in my face that I was going to hurt him whether I wanted to or not.
I told her to back off. I told her Titus was a grown man and could make up his own mind about who he wanted to spend his time with. Key’s eyes had narrowed speculatively and she crossed her arms over her naked boobs. She should’ve looked ridiculous and trashy . . . she didn’t. She looked fierce and protective, like an ancient Amazonian warrior, and that just made my hackles rise up even farther. I was worried about Titus just as much as she was. Hell, I was stupidly and hopelessly infatuated with the guy, had a crush built on first impressions that was growing into something so much bigger as I learned more about what was behind his drive to take care of the innocent and good. No one had a bigger stake in how this charade played out with him than I did.
She proceeded to tell me she knew something had to be up, that there was no way the handsome detective would willingly piss off his brother by hanging out with me, that he also wouldn’t be so handsy and affectionate because he wasn’t that way with anyone. It was the presumption that she somehow knew Titus better than I did, that she had intimate knowledge of how he operated, that sent me over the edge. Without thinking, I poked her in the center of her naked chest and told her that obviously he was that touchy-feely, was that hands-on with someone he really wanted. Her eyes had gone predatory, and before I could stop myself I reacted, lunging for her, taking her to the ground before she could get a shot in. The first rule in the Point was to never show any kind of weakness, so I attacked before I could be attacked. It was simple street logic.