Bad Cruz

Intimate more than it was hot.

But I felt like it was exactly what she needed, and after all these years, I thought it was better to have her on her terms than not at all.

“I’m telling you, buddy. These two have the most dysfunctional relationship I’ve ever seen. Did you know he cheated on her with her sister and has two dicks and she gave him gonorrhea? Then he choked her with a black pearl necklace and gave her blisters.”

Our heads reared back in unison to follow the source of this nonsense. We both looked up to see Brendan and a male companion drinking beer on the patio of one of the open bars, looking down at us.

The male companion frowned.

“Wait, her sister has two dicks?”

“No, he has two dicks and cheated with her sister. But she cheated, too. First, I think,” replied Brendan.

“Did you know she’s a thief? And Ramona says he’s some mob guy. Blood diamond stuff. Business all over South Africa.”

Both Tennessee and I burst into laughter, still holding each other close.

“See? They’re shameless. I told you. Most dysfunctional relationship ever,” Brendan cemented.

“You’re not wrong about that one, Brendan.” Tennessee hugged her midriff as she stepped toward the elevators, pulling away from me, and I followed her. “But it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs.”

“You were right here, sugar pie,” Brendan drawled in his Southern accent.

“We were in the middle of something,” I pointed out to her, my dick nodding in my pants in agreement.

“Consider it the ending. Just got my wits back.”

“Dammit,” I muttered, following her like a lovesick puppy.

We entered the elevator. I was about to turn to her and persuade her with my tongue when another couple squeezed in and joined us.

Double dammit.

Silence filled the small space while the man beside me slid his hand over the curve of the woman’s ass.

At least one of us was getting some tonight.

When we reached our floor, I let Tennessee slip out first, then put my hand on the small of her back when we made our way to our room. I’d now successfully moved from acquaintance to someone who touched her occasionally, and I wasn’t about to give up my new privileges.

“You can drop your hand and the charade anytime now, there’s no one here.” She tried combing her hair back into its usual state.

“No charade. Is wanting to spend time with you a crime?”

“Depends on the state. As far as I’m aware, Nevada’s the only place with legalized prostitution.”

“Stop that right now.”

I hoped to hell Mr. and Mrs. Warren weren’t coming out for a late night snack, because I was bound to strangle both of them if they showed up and did something Tennessee found triggering.

“Let me guess—you want to spend time with me without clothes.”

“Clothes are okay, but not the ones you choose to wear.” I cracked a smile.

“Funny. I always thought it was women who wanted to change men, not vice versa.”

“I don’t want to change you. I want to help you discover your full potential.”

Great.