Page 64 of Sinful Promise
But it’s bad luck for her, because the window is down—and I’m entirely too persistent as I crouch lower and grin.
“I’m often confused about life, Sera. It’s a complicated beast. But who isn’t? We’re not supposed to have it all under control all the time.”
“I’m not interested,” she bites out. “And now I have to find a new club to visit, since I can’t trust you to not come here to annoy me.”
“So you come to these places often?” I see the panic in her eyes. And yet, I keep poking. Poking. Demanding more. “Do you dance in a cage and touch your own body often? Because I’m not gonna lie: you’re kinda exactly my type.”
“You’re rebounding,” she argues. Pleads. “Your ex is coming home, she was once a dancer. You’re a single dad doing his best to raise a little girl, but you bang everyone with a vagina the second it looks your way. You have a million things going on in your life, and I refuse to become the next in your line of conquests, just so you can feel better about yourself.”
“What if you become the next… and I use my skills to makeyoufeel better?” I rest my arms on the doorframe and lean closer when her eyes grow just a little wider.
Of the two of us, it’s not me who is confused.
“I could make your body sing,” I smirk. “We could work this thing out of our systems, then you can relax for once in your fuckin’ life.”
“Iwasrelaxed.” Angrily, she points back toward the Opulus Club. “In there. Alone. I was relaxed for the first time in a long time, Detective. But you touched when you weren’t supposed to. And now you’ve followed me when I asked you not to.”
“Sex aside,” I grit out. “You’re fucking insane if you think I was letting you storm into the street all alone. You don’t come out here angry and just hope you make it home safe.”
“Why not?” she firms her thick, red lips and stares deep into my soul. “I’ve done it damn near every night of my life.” Turning to the driver, she bites out, “Just drive, please. I’ll give you my address when we no longer have an audience.”
I snort. “Not like I don’t already know where you live.”
Then I lean in through the window, past a huffing Serafina, and catch a glimpse of the driver’s name, license number, and car details. “If she doesn’t get where she’s going in one piece,” I glare at him through the rearview mirror, “you can expect me on your doorstep the second I find out.”
My phone trills in my back pocket. Again. It’s always going off. But the ringtone somehow only bolsters Seraphina’s mood.
“Go.” She presses her palm to my forehead and shoves me back. “A phone call at this hour?” she snickers, though there’s no humor in the sound. “That’s a booty call, Detective Fletcher. You better answer. Your fans are waiting.”
“You’re pretty judgmental for a chick who was dancing in a cage a minute ago.”
Her eyes fire with temper, but they only grow hotter when I grin.
“You live a lie, Sera. Churchmouse by day, but the moment the sun goes down, you know how to have fun. I assure you, your boss has no fuckin’ clue who you are beneath the manicure and salon treatments.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s a lie, Detective. No more than when peoplethinkyou’re an upstanding citizen by day, all because you carry a badge. But by night, you plunder your way through the city’s female population and leave them broken in your wake.”
“Sounds like you’re jealous.” I pull back, but bend at the hips so our faces are only half a foot apart. “Next time you wanna dance like you did in there, you know where to find me. Fuck, but there isn’t a dollar amount I wouldn’t pay to see you grind for me.”
“Too bad I neither like you, nor am I for sale.” Grabbing the window crank, she works the glass up as the cab’s indicators flick on to alert traffic they’re moving.
So I straighten out and drop my hands in my pockets.
My cock is hard and my heart races in my chest. But my chirping phone doesn’t bring me pleasure the way it might’ve in the past when a woman calls me in the night.
Taking it out and glancing at the screen as the cab pulls away from the curb, I sigh when I read the name flashing back at me. At the trouble courting me for attention.
The broken woman desperately hoping I can undo her downfall.
Accepting the call and turning on my heels, I start toward my home and bring the device to my ear. “Hey.”
“Charlie?” Jada’s voice isn’t strong the way it once was. It’s not steely or confident. Instead, it’s hoarse and too-quiet. Shy, and unsure. “Did I get you at a bad time?”
I know she hears the club music. The people wandering the street. My own footsteps on the sidewalk. “It’s not a bad time. Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I just…” She hesitates; another habit she never used to have. “I wanted to hear your voice. I was hoping to catch you before bed. But—”
“I was working.” I lift my hand for a cab and slide in when one pulls up almost instantly. “Did you need something?”
