CARLOS COMES BACK around to meet Sinclair an hour later. At this point, Sinclair has won the last three rounds of the card game—blackjack, I think—that he was playing. Carla and Bruiser, who were previously loitering near the bar, are now loitering close by us and Sonny has disappeared. I saw him duck through the door and head back outside but I wasn’t able to go to him. I’ve been sitting here, on the arm of Sinclair’s chair, watching him play.
His face gives nothing about his plans away. Only once did I start to feel a little anxious and, sensing my anxieties, Sinclair placed a hand on my thigh. I was momentarily distracted by the heat of his hand and, of course, my insatiable horny, s*x-deprived state led me to remember what his hands and fingers felt like on other parts of my body. It
