Dirty Dealers

She’s elegant and sophisticated as hell in her little black dress, but I still recognize the feisty, skinny girl with long pale hair, running through the surf in shorts and a tank top and bare feet. We’d spent every waking minute together, before I was sent away for training. Ten months in the desert, and I came back to find her gone.

Her eyes flutter and her chin drops. I want to catch it and lift it, pull her into my arms and hold her like I used to all those years ago, every single day that summer. My last summer…

“What are you doing here?” she says. She’s still not smiling, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. “I thought you were gone—”

“I was in the Caribbean most of last year,” I say. “But… when did you come back? I looked for you when I got back from Morocco. Cam said you’d moved to America.”

“I took a job there.” She’s so tense standing here as if she’s under arrest. It’s making me crazy. “I just flew back a few days ago.”

Softening my voice, I dip my head to try and catch her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you, Sass.”

With those words, her entire posture changes. Her shoulders drop, and the stern line of her jaw melts into a smile. She covers her face with her hand, and I hear the smallest laugh. “Did you just call me Sass?”

Blue eyes cut up through her fingers to mine, and warmth floods my chest. There she is. “Perhaps I was out of line?”

“I suppose your familiarity could be considered inappropriate.” Her tone is taunting, like it always was, daring me.

“I hope not… Sassy Cassie,” I say, doing my best not to laugh when her blue eyes narrow behind those glasses.

We’re standing so close. She places a hand on my chest, and I mentally note she’s not wearing a ring.

“It’s Kass now. With a K.” A gentle push, and she glances over her shoulder behind us. “It’s been a long time since those days.”

As much as I hate it, I move back, giving her space. “Are you here with someone?”

Her head snaps to me. “Why would you say that?”

“I just noticed… You were looking around.”

I don’t want her to say yes. I don’t want her to leave. My insides are a tangle of anticipation and curiosity and all the feelings I gave up years ago. On the tip of my memory is the ease we had with each other. I crave it.

We were barely adults when we knew each other six years ago. She was nineteen and I was twenty-four, and we’d been pretty hot together. I’d lost count of all the places we’d had sex around the coast—under the pier, behind the cabana, in the ocean… so many times in the ocean. I’d perfected the art of holding her in front of me, slipping in from behind. I can still feel her skin against my chest, her clenching around my dick.

Heat floods my pelvis, but her voice interrupts my steamy reverie. “I came with friends, but they left early. I was just planning to leave myself.”

“You haven’t finished your drink.”

She tilts the short glass to the side. “It’s almost gone.”

“We could walk down to the fountain and talk. Catch up?”

I can’t get a read on her. She isn’t giving anything away. She has changed, and seeing her here now, this smart, beautiful woman, I can’t help wanting her. I want to know how much has changed and how much is still the same.

Her lips press together, and she exhales softly, almost as if she’s conceding something. “I guess I have a few minutes.”

It’s not the level of enthusiasm I’d hoped to get from her, but it’s not a no. We start to walk, side by side, not touching. My hands are in the pockets of my dark slacks, and we make our way down the beige stone steps.

Motorcycles are parked in a shining row, and across the enormous lawn the laughter of men and women dining outdoors at the Paris Hotel drifts to us on the sea breeze.

Glancing up over the tops of the buildings, the mountains surrounding the city are pale blue in the growing twilight. We’re entering the gardens at the back of the casino, where the choreographed fountains rise high overhead amidst dancing, colorful lights.

For the moment, they’re still, and the peaceful trickle of the smaller fountains hidden in the walls creates an ambient noise.

“It’s so lovely here,” she says, looking out across the darkening gardens.

“I remember sneaking onto these grounds with you.” A grin is in my voice. I remember doing more than that on these opulent grounds.

“We would hide in the shadows up on that hill and watch the men and women in their fancy clothes coming in and out.” A wistful tone is in her voice. “They were always surrounded