Page 80 of Hollow Heart

“Fuck you, asshole,” Dare slurs, swaying backward a little.

Jinger giggles as Geo gives the finger to Dare. I roll my eyes.

I know we’re all a mix of ages, but I swear these guys act like damn teenagers.

As I break my gaze from the riveting discussion in front of me, I turn to see Duncan on the other side of the room.

His gaze catches mine, and my heart skips a beat.

Clearly, he’s utilizing the capsule collection I sent him. His deep, gold silk shirt is unbuttoned at the top two buttons, his leather jacket accentuating the ochre tones perfectly. Combined with the fitted black jeans and boots, he looks more like the Duncan fromHollow Pointe, than the Duncan in faded jeans and vintage tanks.

His deep brown eyes pull me in like a fish on a damn hook.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to extricate myself from this riveting conversation,” I state, as Jinger laughs, Dare questioning what the fuckextricatemeans.

I make my way across the foyer, until I meet Duncan on the other side.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to show up,” I say gruffly.

Duncan slides his hands in his pockets, cocking his head to the side, his thick, neatly trimmed eyebrows furrowing.

My gaze dips to his trimmed beard, to his mouth where he’s sporting the slimmest sliver of silver.

A fucking lip ring.

My cock throbs at the sight as thoughts fill my brain of what that would feel like against my thighs, scratchy beard and cool metal.

What it would feel like pressed against the slit of my weeping cock.

Fuuuuck.

I swallow hardly, trying not think sexy thoughts.

But I find that’s extremely difficult when I am ninety percent sober and in the presence of this mountain of a man.

“Lou said it was mandatory press for the tour, so...”

“Right.” I nod as both relief and disappointment flood me. Relief because he’s acknowledging the tour, which means he must be staying, but disappointment because maybe hedoesn’twant to be here.

And because I’m a goddamn glutton for punishment, I quip, “You clean up nice.”

Duncan cracks a half smile, but it’s genuine and warms my insides better than any fruity concoction.

Which I take a sip of, if only to keep myself from spewing more stupidity.

“Yeah, well. It helps when someone else picks out my clothes. If it were up to me, I’d be in a Slayer shirt and a pair of blue jeans.”

I smirk at him. “Honestly, it might be this…” I tap my own lip ring. “Really pulls the whole outfit together.”

Duncan slides his hands in his pockets, slowly walking us around the round foyer.

“I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to revive the look. For the tour, anyway.”

I take the lead. “Let me give you the unofficial tour, of the Sylvestro’s palace,” I offer before I start spouting sonnets about his perfect, pierced mouth.

After one drink, that should be a record. I pawn off my empty glass to a waitress passing by, waving about to the first room.

“That over there is the kitchen, full of fancy schmancy shit that tastes like fuckin’ cardboard, then you’ve got the great room, where all the corporate assholes hang out.” I wave at the great room. I catch Lou in my sight, who sees us, and Duncan waves.

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