He huffs as he turns toward the house, opening the front door and tipping his head for me to follow. I do, stepping into the foyer and closing the shot-up wooden panel behind me. I’ve been this far before, when I picked up Sloane for the beach. Nothing is extravagant. Nothing seems out of line with what a bunch of men, a bunch of cops might have in their house. And I’ve seen what Steven drives. Again, nothing extravagant. He had to have made a shitload of money. So where is it? Either he’s saving it or I’m wrong.

For the first time in two years, I hope I’m wrong. I hope my search is still out there, ahead of me. And the culprit is someone that’s not related to Sloane.

********

I texted Sloane after lunch to tell her that she was welcome to stay with me until her family got things straightened out. I’m a little pissed off that she’s not here already. Even though her only response was to thank me, I assumed she’d come by after school. I mean, where else is she gonna go? Yet it’s almost seven, closing in on her normal time to arrive, and I haven’t heard a word from her.

When the alarm at the front door sounds, I roll my chair to the right of the desk in the small office, giving me the perfect angle to see out into the lobby. I see Sloane passing through, heading straight for the back. I get up and follow.

I feel the frown working at my forehead as I cross the studio after her, my irritation building. “Where have you been?” I ask without preamble.

She turns surprised eyes to me. “What do you mean? Was I supposed to come in early?”

“I texted you about staying with me.”

“I know,” she says with a small smile. “I got it. Didn’t you get my response?”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d come here after school.”

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were working. I had to go by the house and get some clothes anyway.”

“Didn’t your dad tell you I’d been by?”

“No, he wasn’t there. No one was.”

“Sloane, what the hell were you thinking? No one was home and you went in anyway?”

“Of course I did,” she says, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown of her own. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s stupid, that’s why.”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re acting exactly like one of my brothers.”

“It bugs the shit out of me that you could be so careless and irresponsible,” I explain, refusing to acknowledge the way my heart pounds harder just thinking about someone attacking her while she was there. Alone.

I see her chin come up and I realize that was the wrong thing to say.

“Luckily, I don’t base every decision I make on your definition of careful or responsible.”

“Sloane, that’s not what I meant. I meant—”

“I know exactly what you meant, Hemi, and I don’t need another brother. Or another father. I have plenty of people second-guessing my every move and trying to keep me out of every conceivable path that harm might take. But I’ll tell you like I told them—I refuse to live my life afraid, Hemi. Refuse! Life is too short to overthink every single thing because I might get hurt or it might end badly. I’ll never have a single moment of happiness if I live that way. I thought you understood. I thought you felt the same way. What happened to ‘Live, no regrets’?”

“Having fun and being free doesn’t mean you have to do stupid shit that could get you hurt, Sloane.”

“Doesn’t it? Isn’t that the nature of risk? Doing something despite the fact that you might get hurt?”

“On a smaller scale, yes. But this is your life. This isn’t having a drink to stick it to your brothers or getting a tattoo to prove a point.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Rebelling? Proving a point?”

Her level of upset is disproportionate to what I’m trying to say, but I don’t know how to say it any differently.

I sigh, reaching out to rub my hands up and down Sloane’s upper arms, loving the way it feels like silk against my palms. “Look, this is not how I pictured this conversation going. You said you wanted my truth, well this is it. I’m not trying to control you. Or boss you. I was just worried. That’s all. I just have a piss-poor way of explaining that.”

I see her expression soften. “I love that you’re concerned about me,” she says, taking a step closer to me. “I love it a lot.” Color blooms in her cheeks and a smile flirts with the corners of her mouth. But when she continues, her eyes are earnest. “But you have to trust that I know what I’m doing. And that I’m old enough and smart enough to do it. I had Sarah with me. Sig had just left the house a few minutes before I got there. Cops have been in and out of there all day. I didn’t feel like, all things considered, it would be too dangerous to run upstairs, in broad daylight, and grab a few things before I went to Sarah’s for a while. But I also didn’t feel like I needed to explain that to anybody either.”

Now I feel like an ass. “I’m sorry I snapped. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I was…I was just concerned.”

She nods, taking yet another step closer to me. “So you want me to stay with you then?”

“Of course I want you to stay with me. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, it’s the nice thing to do.”

I arch one brow at her. “Sloane, I’ve told you before that I’m selfish. This is me being selfish. I’m not trying to stay away from you anymore.”

This is as much news to me as it is to her. Being done with the fight, with the pretense and just putting it out there. I don’t know when I decided to flip guilt the bird. Probably when I realized I could have Sloane in my house, in my bed, all to myself if I play this the right way. Yet another opportunity I can’t pass up. I refuse to look more deeply into it than that.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then, by all means, be selfish,” she says, grinning up at me.

“You shouldn’t look so pleased. Your virtue could be in peril.”

“Even better.”

I ignore the way my dick jumps just thinking of where this conversation is going and how, now, I can do something about it. “Speaking of selfish, why didn’t you wake me up when you left this morning?”

Sloane’s lashes flutter down to hide her eyes and I feel her stiffen against me.

“Why would I do that? You were kind enough to let me stay, to watch over me all night. I didn’t want to…I mean…” She trails off and I see her tongue sneak out to wet her lips. A nervous gesture. Finally, she lifts her eyes to mine again. “Look, Hemi, I remember the whole conversation about breakfast. I know how you feel about it, about women…staying. I just…I just didn’t want to make you feel like I expected anything. That’s all.”

I do like a woman who knows when to leave. I’ve always liked that. No attachments. No obligations. Just two consenting adults. And when it’s over, we go our separate ways. Until next time. If there is a next time. But then why was I ticked off when I found a note in the kitchen this morning? Why was I so pissed when I realized that Sloane had left without so much as a word?

“This is different. You don’t need to worry about that. This is…this is just different,” I repeat, unable to explain it any further than that.

Sloane nods and murmurs softly, “Okay.”

A tense silence falls between us, one that I feel the need to eradicate. “So, did you eat?”

“Yeah, Sarah and I had take-out.”

I nod, crossing that option off the list. I don’t know why I suddenly feel the need to pamper Sloane, to show her that she’s not just another girl that I want to bang and then shower away while she walks out the door. I want to be with her. I want to watch her when she tastes new things, feels new things. I want to watch her eyes open first thing in the morning. And, admittedly, I want to watch them close when I bury my dick in her. And now I have the perfect opportunity to do all those things. To get her out of my system before she finds out too much and learns to hate me.

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we blow off this place tonight and hit a club or something? Let you get rid of some tension? I think you’ve earned a…release.”

Her smile is wide and her eyes take on an instant sparkle. “That sounds great. But can you do that? I mean, won’t the owner…”

“It’s just one night. And we’ve got plenty of people here tonight. I had planned to work with you some more on our tattoos, but we can do that another night.”

Sloane glances down at what she’s wearing. “I didn’t really bring anything to wear for something like that.”

“That’ll be fine,” I say, taking in her tiny black shorts and white top that sits off one shoulder. “Trust me, you could wear a paper bag and be the hottest girl at most of these places.”

I love how her cheeks get all pink and round when I say things like that to her. It’s the truth, of course, but I probably wouldn’t tell her what I’m thinking as often if she didn’t react this way.

Or maybe I would.

“If you think it’ll be okay…”

“You’ll be fine. I know the owner of the place we’re going. You’ll fit right in.”

********

Less than an hour later, I’m leading Sloane through the doors of a club in down town. It’s called “Aphrodisiac” and most everything within the four exterior walls is geared toward titillation. And I’d be willing to bet a shitload of money that Sloane has never stepped foot in a place like this before. Hell, I’m not even sure she’s wanted to. But she’s here. And tonight is all about her feeling pleasure rather than stress, about her letting go rather than holding on.

From the second we step through the doors, the bass-heavy thump of music sets the tone to sensuality. Everything does. From the color scheme—rich reds and black—to the lighting—dim and pulsing—everything adds to the feeling of carnal freedom. Even the air is thick and humid, lending a sultry feel to the place. It’s like someone set a dance club out in the center of the jungle. The heat brings out the animal in everyone. And the temperature is on the rise.

Passing between two elevated cages in which half-naked women are dancing, I lead Sloane to the bar and order us both a drink.

“Have you ever done a shot?”

“Once.”

“Well, I don’t want you drunk, but I do want you feeling all grown up and liberated, so we’re going to do a shot and then go dance. You up for it?”

Sloane grins at me, her wings almost visibly loosening and spreading right before my eyes. “Hell yeah!”

I smile. I feel like licking my lips. Something tells me there’s something delicious on the menu tonight.

The bartender slides two shots across to us, each sporting a lemon wedge tucked on the rim, along with a salt shaker. I nod and slip her a bill. “We’re starting with shots of tequila, mostly because they’re fun to do,” I explain. “And because tonight, I’m taking advantage of any excuse to touch you.”

Sloane’s smile builds slowly. “I like the sound of these already. What do I do?”

“I’ll show you how to do yours first. Then I’ll do mine.” I take Sloane’s hand in mine and I lick the back of it, sprinkling salt on the damp surface. I place the shot glass in her other hand. “Lick the salt, drink the shot and then I’ll give you the lemon, okay?”

Sloane nods. “Now?”

“Right now.”

Her dark eyes are crackling with heat. It’s easy to tell she’s ready to dive into this night with everything she has. And I’m going to make sure she forgets her worries. At least for one night.

With her gaze on mine, Sloane raises her hand to her mouth and licks off the salt. I don’t know if she does it so slowly on purpose or if it’s just that she’s enjoying the taste. Either way, watching her pink tongue scrape along her skin makes my dick twitch. When the salt is gone, she turns up the shot glass and drains it in one big gulp. She’s a born drinker. Without taking her eyes off mine, she sets the glass on the bar and waits. I bring the lemon wedge to her lips, swiping the fleshy part across them. “Suck.”

Her lush lips part and I see her small, white teeth sink into the juicy sacks of the citrus. I can feel her sucking on it as she leans into me.

“Mmmm,” she murmurs when she’s done. “Delicious. Your turn.”

She grabs the salt shaker and reaches for my hand, but I stop her. “No, I’ll be doing mine a little differently.” Sloane’s hair is up again tonight, revealing her long, graceful neck and the feminine curve of her shoulder. The shirt she’s wearing is deeply cut in front, making it fall down one arm. The exact spot that I want to put my mouth is exposed, like she dressed for this night with me in mind.

Bending forward, I put my lips and tongue to the tender place where her neck and shoulder meet, enjoying the taste of her skin and the way she tips her head to the side, giving me better access. I shake salt onto the damp place and turn my lemon wedge backward, holding it to her lips. “Open.”

Sloane’s lips part and I set the citrus slice between them until I feel her clamp down to hold it in place. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her in close to me as I reach for my shot. As I lower my head to lick every grain of salt from her skin, she melts into me, threading her fingers into my hair. I turn my face to the side and down the fiery liquid then bite into the lemon wedge Sloane’s holding between her teeth. I suck all the juice from it then take it from her and drive my tongue between her lips to tangle with hers in a kiss that sets my blood on fire.