Sunday
Rhett trusted instinct, and when that inner sense tugged his eyes up from his work, he paused the tattoo gun.
Sure enough, it was the unmistakable silhouette of Aislen Carter, paused before his window. She was with Talen, the vampire out-massing her twice over despite Aislen’s generous temptress’s curves. She craned her head back to look at Talen’s face as they talked, and her hand rested on the vampire’s chest, stroking in an unconscious motion over the knap of the fabric as she smiled and nodded along to whatever he was saying.
He cupped her skull, his fingers burying into the dark, unruly curls, and leaned over to kiss her in a leisurely, appreciative manner, drawing her bottom lip out as he pulled back.
Rhett’s c**k throbbed against his thigh. f**k, he thought in a glaze
