Page 56 of Property of Azrael

I havea lot of regrets in my life, but giving Hallie that fucking dress may be one of the worst decisions I’ve made in recent memory. The black dress at the event had been bad enough, but this one? Jesus fucking Christ. I about had a heart attack when she walked out of that bathroom.

Fuck, she’s beautiful. Her dark hair is twisted in a low ponytail at her nape. Perfect for what I have planned later.

It’ll drape beautifully around my hand when I fuck her against my bike. I’d been thinking about the mechanics of that since I read her book, and tonight,

after we have a little fun in town, I’ll be making it a reality. The only problem, though, is Eden’s fucking gift. The silver shimmery skirt barely covers her ass. The scrap of material is wide enough to not show everything, but short enough that two inches higher, she’d be fully exposed.

Adding to my issues, the lack of a back and plunging neckline. One stiff breeze would give Hallie her own Marilyn Monroe moment. A moment that would mean a lot of dead motherfuckers. The dress is going to be a problem. A major one. The black one from her event covered more, and a man died for licking his lips at her, amongst other things, of course. But this dress? Fuck. I’ll need an entire crate of body bags and a landfill to put them in.

“Is your jaw on the floor?” Hallie asks, beaming at me when she steps out of the bathroom. “I tried to warn you.”

“I’m seeing your point,” I answer flatly. “You know what? Let’s stay in.”

“Oh, no,” she retorts, walking slowly over to me. “You got me out of bed.” She taps me on the chest. “Gave me this dress to wear.” She taps a second time. “And promised me a date night.” A third tap presses into my chest. “We’re doing this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I snort. “One question. How are you going to ride the bike in that?”

“Very, very carefully?” She shifts away from me and grabs the pair of shoes she’s been wearing all week from the floor by her backpack. Dress to kill, and shoed to run away. I bite into my knuckles when I see how high that damn dress goes when she bends over. This going to be a very long night of watching every other man in the room eye fuck her.

“I’m ready. Do I need my ID?” She shuffles around in her wallet, paying no mind to me or my frown. Finding it, she hands it over to me. “Take it. I don’t have a place to store it.”

“I don’t want to,” I grumble under my breath. “Take your hoodie with you.”

“Az, the sun is still up. If I put that thing on, I’ll melt.”

At least you’ll be covered, and innocent men won’t have to die for looking at you.

I take a deep, calming breath. “Just keep your skirt down.”

Grabbing my wallet, keys, and phone, we head out to the garage and my bike. I slide on first, settling the weight before Hallie joins me, shifting so much that I can barely hold on to the bike.

“I think you might be right about this skirt,” she finally admits.

“There’s a jacket in my saddlebag. Wrap it around your waist.”

The bike lurches again as she follows my instructions. A few moments later, she settles back against me.

“Better?”

“Much,” she declares. “Where are we going?” “It’s a surprise.” Grabbing my helmet, I shove it

on my head. My Harley starts with ease, and within a few minutes, we’re off. The bar I had decided to take her to is only a few miles away, but with the gorgeous hues of the setting sun, I opt to take the scenic route. Hallie clings tightly to me on the curvy ocean side road.

Just as the sun sets below the horizon, the bar comes into view.

“Here we are.” I park in a spot at the side of the bar, where the upbeat music is playing through the outdoor speakers.

Helping her off the bike, she looks at me with an arched brow. “Is this a salsa bar?”

“It is.” Taking off my helmet, I secure it to the handlebars and dismount. “You can’t come to Mexico and not try it at least once.”

“I’m not a dancer. I have two left feet and no rhythm.”

“Neither am I, baby. But when in Mexico...” I shrug.

Truthfully, I’ve never been salsa dancing before, but I’ve also never had someone I wanted to try it with, either. Not until her. There are a lot of new experiences I want to try now.

Taking her by the hand, I lead her into the build- ing. Even being so early in the evening, the place is packed. Couples are twirling and spinning around on the dance floor to the music pumping through the room. A brunette hostess in a mini dress approaches us with a tray full of beers and cocktails. She’s a pretty little thing. Pretty enough that I’m glad I hadn’t told the guys about my plans with Hallie tonight, or they’d have wanted to come along. As far as they know, we’re still back at the rental. They wouldn’t know any differently until they came back from the chartered fishing trip.

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