Page 58 of Southpaw Slots

As if he can’t look at me, his head hangs. “Listen, I’venevertold anyone this, but I came here because I was trafficked here. Was in the trade since a young age.”

Reaching across our bodies, I lace my fingers through his and encourage him to go on. “So this is revenge for you?”

He finally looks at me. “Yeah, it is. And helping the people of the city, too.”

“Does Arianna know?”

“No,” he says quickly, as if ashamed. “I don’t want her to know. It’s—it’s nothing I really want to discuss.”

“So why’d you tell me?”

Sniffing in a deep inhale, he says, “Because I believe youarethe best man to rule the city. And because…Fuck, maverick. I didn’t want to think about this or even fucking say it. But you’re gonna make me, aren’t you?”

“Say what?” But even with my question, I understand where this is going. And I need it. My heart pounds powerfully as sweat forms across my forehead.

“I’m not gay. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. But,goddamnit, Ace. I’m into you. Like,attractedto you. Get butterflies in my stomach and all that shit around you. I’venever oncehad that happen to me for someone with a dick. Arianna is delicate, you knowthis. She’syourwife. But you? You’re strong and I’ve been through a lot. So when we’ve done stuff together, it’s different than what happened to me. And I think it’s a good thing.” Letting go of my hand, he rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I don’t know how to put this.”

The pain I felt for my own circumstances transfers to thinking about a young Wyatt struggling here in his forsaken city. Alone, probably terrified. And we’ve been fucking around together like it’s a joke. “You mean dudes raped you and stuff.”

Slowly, his eyes raise to mine. “Yes.” My jaw clenches at the ire cementing within my belly. I want revenge for him, too.

I take a deep breath as I think about his words and try to settle these puzzling feelings I’m having. Have I hurt him without knowing? “But when you and I and Arianna have been together, it feels different.”

Nodding, he says quietly. “It feels, um, amazing. But confusing.” Some moments pass between us, just scanning the other’s face. He breaks the silence and asks, “Are you into me?”

Scooting my butt closer to him, his legs lay over my thighs. I curl my fingers around the back of his neck and press our foreheads together. Our misty breaths mingle as our chests rapidly expand in sync. My cock fills with blood as I glance down and see how close our coresalign.

“What are you…” he whispers, some of his spit mingling inside my mouth.

“Shh. I want to try this.” Lowering my head, I softly press my lips to his, and his sharp inhale tickles my skin. “Can I?” When I blink up at him, he gives me a slight nod. Then I press my mouth over his.

He’s not like Arianna, soft and gentle. His rough stubble rubs against mine as our lips move in sync, slow at first, and as anticipation sends tingles throughout my body, I move closer. His jaw moves stronger than Arianna’s. More forceful. And his firm arms wrap around me and mine around him.

Then we collide. Shoving his lips open, I don’t wait for an invitation, my tongue just delves inside. Wyatt kisses like he doesn’t want to, and then when he gives in…he’sallin. His hands run through my hair, mine gripping his skin tighter. He tastes like fire and something familiar that I can’t place. But it feels like he’s part of me.

“Fuck!” he moans against my mouth, the reverberations causing me to harden even more in my jeans.

As I pull away from him, my moist lips press together so I can try to slow my pulse. “So, uh, yeah. I am attracted to you, and I’m not into dicks normally, either.”

He swallows, and the corner of his mouth kicks up into a smirk.

Laughing, I tell him, “I guess your jewels worked.”

SIXTEEN

ARIANNA

Thrashing in the bed, I check my phone for the fifteenth time. I should have gone with them. I shouldbewith them. Why am I like this? I should be with my husband and Wyatt. Fuck those bikers. They need to realize who I am now.

I snatch my long silky robe from the chair near the bed, toss it on and head downstairs. Leo, head of security, sits in the foyer in one of the dining room chairs. His eyes never leave the front door.

“No word?” I ask.

“No, ma’am. My guards are out patrolling.” A buzzing noise cuts off the end of his sentence and he snatches his phone from his pocket. “Yes? Thank you.” Unlocking the door, he stands with his hand on the knob, waiting. “They’re here. They walked here.”

As I try to shove past him, he places his hand onmy arm. “No, Mrs. Donovan. I’m supposed to stay right with you. And you’re supposed to be in the house.”

Irritation flares in my chest as I stand back and cross my arms. He’s blocking the door, but there are plenty of others I can sneak out of. Moving into the living room, I pause at the wall of windows, watching for any movement across our sparkling pools, lit up only by dancing underwater lights. The moon is full, casting a long stream of white across the surface in which shadows of two men holding hands come creeping across the painted picture.

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