Page 221 of Smooth Sailing

“Maybe preoccupied with that, you boys are in the clear. Maybe his message of ‘I’m done,’ is bullshit to take you off your guard. But at least for now, he’s not going to be an immediate problem,” Sylvie said.

This meant they weren’t assured the Babic situation was sorted, but Nolan and Di were safe, and they had some breathing room and a warning they were on the radar of a lunatic who had the urge to dick with them.

“We’ll keep an ear out,” Tucker added.

“Bottom line for now, Di and her dad are good,” Eight stated.

“You goin’ back to Denver?” Hugger asked him.

“Linus is already headed up there, tomorrow Muzz and me will too. Roscoe is going with us. We got this house until the end of the month, so apparently, Georgie and Archie are coming down for the weekend before the Black brothers head back.”

That’d be good, Di could meet them.

“So this is done,” Hugger summed up.

“For now,” Eight said.

Yeah.

For now.

But he’d take that with knowing Di was safe.

The rest, they’d see.

After talking to her dad to let him know all was good with Babic, Hugger saw her enter her bedroom.

He was stretched out in her bed with a book he pulled from her shelf (Mother Daughter Murder Night, sounded up his alley, even if he’d never been a reader—he was trying new things, and since Di had a big bookshelf filled with books in her living room, he’d helped himself).

He watched her walk to him in her tight cropped tee and loose drawstring shorts.

He quickly put the book aside as she collapsed on top of him.

“Your dad good?” he asked.

She nodded. “He wants to throw a pool party on Saturday, since Georgie and Archie will be here.”

Hugger hadn’t owned a pair of swimming trunks since he was at least eight.

“I’ll have to warn Dutch and Arch so the women can pack suits.”

“Okay.”

“And we’ll have to go out and get me some trunks.”

She grinned at the idea of shopping. “Okay.”

He dug his fingers into the hems of her shorts and up into her panties. “Why the fuck you put on pajamas?”

Di assumed a fake severe expression. “Excuse me, Harlan ‘Hugger’ McCain, you have the wrong impression about me. I am not easy.”

That was when he grinned, flipped her to the back and proved her wrong.

Hugger was doing Di on all fours, curled over her, one hand to the bed, one hand between her legs, finger to her clit.

And he was almost there, so she needed to fucking get there.

On that thought, her head, which had been bent, flashed back, slammed into his shoulder, her soft hair coasting all over his face and tangling in his beard, making his balls draw up in warning, and she came…loud.

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