Page 38 of Desperate Desires

With their overprotective parents, that meant we always had plenty of bodyguards in the background watching out for everyone.

Truth was, I was glad about that. The city could be dangerous, and if I left, I knew Lucy and Andrea would be fine.

New York City was still a dangerous place, and I liked knowing we were being taken care of. It was the only reason I felt comfortable leaving early.

Otherwise I would never. I mean, Lucy and Andrea and all of them were the family I’d missed after my parents had died.

They filled all those spots, all the deep, secret longings I’d had when I was a little girl for friends.

Even Sammy and Nico Jr., the only two boys among them, had adopted me as a sort of honorary cousin.

They were both here tonight, and it was great to see them.

Sammy and Jr. were every bit as dominant and good looking as their dads and uncles.

Every bit as powerful and menacing as a certain blue-eyed man I promised myself I wouldn’t think about.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, moving past a group of young scantily clad women taking selfies by the mirror until I found an empty stall in the restroom.

“Thank god,” I whispered as I pulled my jeans down and squatted over the toilet.

I didn’t care that men and women were going in and out. I really just had to pee.

Still, it took me a minute to get going. I had to flush even though I hadn’t started yet just so I’d relax my pelvic muscles.

Whatever.

I guess I was pee shy.

After I was finished, I flushed again, refastened my jeans, and opened the stall.

Then I screamed.

Loudly.

“Oh my fucking God! What are you doing here?” I asked.

I was stunned at the well over six foot tall, hulking male who stood there.

Goddamn, he looked good.

My pulse raced as I took him in, blue eyes blazing in the darkness and head canted like a curious animal as he just stared at me.

“Hello, Doc. Miss me?” he asked, licking his bottom lip and making me long for things I had no business wanting.

I had to hand it to him, though. The man certainly knew how to make an entrance.

Ono was decked out in an expensive-looking black button-down shirt and tailored slacks.

The soft fabric caught just enough light to show it wasn’t some off-the-rack piece, but something custom made and luxurious.

I recognized quality when I saw it, and whoever his tailor was, they’d done a superb job fitting his larger than average frame.

The top buttons were undone, revealing the smooth plane of his collarbone. Those ridiculously sexy, inky lines drawn into his skin peeked out from where the shirt was open, and the vast wealth of muscles at his chest was visible beneath the thin material.

His pants fit him perfectly, accentuating his long legs and powerful frame. His thighs were so thick, I thought they’d bust right through the material if he should attempt to squat or bend while wearing them.

I appreciated a man who filled out his clothes, and Ono did that. Beautifully.

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