“No sir. I am simply being truthful.”
“Truthful, huh? Well, the majority says you’re using me to lose Blondie. So be truthful, dude. Is that what’s going down?”
What the hell. Romano would figure it out soon enough. “That would be an affirmative, sir.”
Romano sighed. “Man, you are whacko.”
“You’re probably right, sir. But that’s how it is.”
“Mooning like a schoolboy over some babe…”
“Ten minutes, Captain,” Dec said, his voice going flat and cold. “I’ll see you then.”
He ended the call and looked at the blonde.
Her tiny skirt had inched even higher. An open bottle of ale was on the small table beside her. Apparently, she’d helped herself to it while he was hiding in the bathroom. Eyes on his, she tilted her head back, tilted the bottle up and encircled the head of it with her lips.
Dec’s cock rose in instant salute. It was reassuring to know his body parts were still working. For a couple of seconds he even reconsidered his plans.
The blonde was good looking. Better than good. Big blue eyes. Long platinum hair. Tits any man in his right mind would appreciate.
A face swam into his head.
Topaz eyes. A straight fall of lush brown hair shot through with gold. A soft mouth, breasts he had only once tasted and barely touched except in endless dreams…
“What’s happening, baby?” the blonde said.
Dec cleared his throat. “That was my commanding officer.”
“And?”
“And, I’m afraid it’s bad news.”
Blondie’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, we’re gonna have to cancel the rest of the evening. I’m really sorry, but—”
“The hell you are!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The blonde slammed the bottle of ale on the table and shot to her feet. “My girlfriends warned me about you.”
Dec stared at her. “They what?”
“Hot-looking, they said. Nice line of BS, they said.” She strode towards him. “Nice moves, they said. Rub up against him on the dance floor, he’ll get hard as a rock.”
Jesus. Dec could feel his face start to burn.
“Listen, Susy—”
“It’s Lucy,” she snapped. “And what I should have done was listen to my friends. He’ll take you to your place, they said, or maybe his place on the beach—and just before things start to happen, he’ll come up with an excuse. A sick friend. An appointment he forgot.” She paused. “A call from his CO.”
Shit. Had he done the call thing before? Yeah. He had. That time, he’d sneaked out on the patio and phoned Chay Olivieri.
“Susy. I mean, Lucy. I’m sorry. I just—”
She swept past him. He went after her.