I ended the call without another word and continued down the cobbled stones running in front of the aged buildings along the river walk.
I rounded the corner and darted down the narrow lane, strolling along the shaded street before I bounded the exterior staircase cutting up the middle of the old craggy building. Taking them two at a time, I deposited myself on the small landing leading to the two apartments occupying the top floor, their doors situated directly across from the other with the landing in between.
This secluded place sat right in the heart of the Historic District in Savannah, Georgia.
Was lucky as shit to nab it, too. Knew it was rented out most of the time, short-term to tourists and drifters like me who were just passing through.
My door was on the right, and I wiggled the key into the lock and let myself into my temporary home. It was a converted warehouse, now a trendy studio with exposed brick walls and high ceilings, a partition wall to section off the bedroom. Double French doors led out to a balcony I was guessing once upon a time had been a fire escape.
I tossed the keys onto the little table sitting just inside and raked a hand through my hair, shaking off the conversation and allowing my thoughts to go traipsing back to the girl.
God, that girl.
My blood was still pulsin’ a little too hard for comfort, my dick all too eager to take a ride.
When I flew in to Savannah yesterday, I knew I would see her. Knew she was going to torture me a little more. Problem was, every time she told me I couldn’t have her, the need she stirred in me just grew.
The girl slung drinks at Charlie’s, the bar Shea, Baz’s wife, had worked at when they’d first met. The same bar Shea’s uncle Charlie owned. Every time I walked through the doors of that bar, a crazy feeling skimmed my veins, filling me full of some kind of foolish excitement I hadn’t felt in a long damned time.
Didn’t know what came over me when she invaded my space. She was like a red-headed siren, circling and circling and circling me on unsettled waters until I was trapped in some kind of vortex. It instantly flipped a switch in me and my dick started doing the talking.
And believe me, he was a dick.
Guess he didn’t like being ignored. Shot down and rejected.
Neither of us were used to that shit. I didn’t chase women. They chased me. Flocked in droves, really. And that wasn’t my dick talking again. It’s just the way it was. After a show, they were always there, doing their own circling, some acting coy and others’ advances blatantly clear. But they all wanted the same thing.
Me.
But not Red. Every advance I made? She pushed right back. Hard.
It was no secret I loved women. Loved the way they smelled. Loved the way they tasted. Most of all, I loved the way they felt.
But I didn’t love women.
Loving someone was like volunteering for heartache and sorrow and a lifetime of bullshit.
But I wanted one. I wanted her.
Tamar King.
We had a love/hate relationship.
I loved messing with her and she loved to hate me for it.
Just once, I wanted her to let go. I wanted the girl to come at me with the brunt of all the hostility radiating from that white, snowy flesh that peeked out from behind the pretty tats twisting down her arms. Tats I had the intense need to lick.
Yeah.
The girl looked like the perfect sin.
But there was something more. Something darker. Anger leached from her. The kind of anger that was real and not the angsty show all these other girls prancing around backstage liked to put on.
For one night, I wanted her to give it to me. Fight it out with me. Hands and teeth and bodies. Right in my bed.
My phone dinged and I glanced at the screen.
Ash.
You get Shea & Sebastian’s wedding gift, asshole?
I tapped back a reply, grinning at one of my oldest friends who couldn’t stay serious for five seconds. Yep.
Immediately it dinged. You impress me.
I could feel his sarcasm woven in the words.
Whatever, man. You’d forget your head without me.
Keep telling yourself that. We all know I’m the brains of the bunch. See you at 10.
I smiled and that same pulse of excitement vibrated through me. Nah, this little break wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
CHARLIE’S BUZZED AROUND ME. Lights were cast low and the music turned high. Bodies pressed up to the smooth, antique bar, vying to get my attention as I scrambled behind it, filling pitchers full of microbrews while simultaneously shaking up a couple Purple Lamborghinis.
I slid the two martinis to the blondes commiserating their love-life woes over drinks at the end of the bar.
“Here we go. Two Purple Lamborghinis. Watch yourselves. Those go down fast and ride you hard.”
The woman on the right smiled wide. “Mmm…after the day I’ve had, fast and furious is exactly what I need. Keep them coming.”
“Glad I could be of service.”
“Hey, princess, how about another round of beers down here?” The same asshole who’d been eyeing me up and down all night shot me a smarmy smile. No doubt, it was supposed to melt my panties.