earlier.
Instead of being relieved to hear her voice, the high-pitched, happy-happy
tone had been like a red-hot steel rod shoved through his brain. She‟d
invited him to a church picnic next weekend, and his first reaction had been
dread.
What was the matter with him?
Alyssa Devereaux.
It had taken Tyler‟s intrusion, Alyssa‟s subtle rebuff, and his own
intoxication to realize that maybe the best course of action was to fuck her
and get her out of his system. Of course, that option wasn‟t available just
now since she was otherwise occupied.
Thank God he‟d bought this bottle from Alyssa‟s bartender after
Deke‟s visit.
What did Tyler do for her that got her off so satisfactorily? Was he an
oral god? Was he exceptionally well hung? Luc made a face at the thought
of Tyler‟s man parts. The one thing he very much doubted was that Tyler
could surpass his stamina. Luc knew he had the bouncer—and just about
anyone else—beat at that game.
Not that he‟d ever been proud of the fact he sometimes went into a
sexual frenzy and didn‟t emerge for hours . . . and didn‟t ask a lover about
her comfort or pleasure. He took and gave to her relentlessly until she was
78
Shayla Black
a slave to the clawing need. In his altered state, he lived for her fingernails
in his back, her breathy pleas, and above all, her screams.
Suddenly, Alyssa‟s porch light flipped on. The front door opened. Tyler
stepped outside, and she emerged behind him, wearing a pale satin gown
that flirted with her bare thighs, her hair spilling down her back like a
shining beacon.
The bouncer reached the door of his truck, then turned. He cupped
Alyssa‟s shoulders, brought her against his big body, stroked the soft crown
of her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking perfectly comfortable
in his arms.
Luc looked away and took another swallow of whiskey. The liquid
crashed to the bottom of his stomach, burning. Or was his gut on fire
because he kept playing the vision of Tyler fucking Alyssa over and over in
his head?
No avoiding the truth now. Luc was so damn jealous he could hardly
see straight. Wasn‟t irony a bitch?
Alyssa straightened. Tyler murmured something, then kissed her
forehead. She nodded—then stepped back.
Luc frowned. If they‟d been burning up the sheets for the past hour,
wouldn‟t they part with a lingering kiss?
Finally, the other man hopped into his sleek black truck and drove off.
Alyssa watched him turn the corner. Then she clapped eyes on his own
SUV.
“Luc?”
Fuck . He should have left, driven off someplace so he didn‟t have to
see her with Tyler—and have her know that he‟d been watching. But no,
he‟d been too busy drowning in alcohol and jealousy to think straight.
With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree, his gaze glued to her
slender form, the breeze rustling her silky hair, her nipples poking the front
of her shimmering low-cut negligee, the satin clinging to her hips.
Tyler had probably just crawled from between her thighs, and damn if
Luc didn‟t want to crawl between them himself. He wanted her so badly, he
didn‟t give a shit if he got sloppy seconds.
He was in so fucking deep.
Finally, he stepped into the streetlamp‟s pool of light.
79
Shayla Black
Alyssa gasped, then smothered the sound with her hand. She peered
down at the bottle he clutched. “You‟re drunk.”
Luc wished that were true. He shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Come inside the house and let‟s get some sleep.” She turned for the
front door.
He darted after her. Just inside the foyer, he grabbed her arm. “You
have nothing else to say?”
She sent him a sharp glare. “No one asked you to leave.”
“So I was supposed to watch him maul you?” Luc slammed the door,
enclosing them in shadowy silence. Then something terrible occurred to
him. “Oh, hell, no. Did you want us both to fuck you? Together? Never
going to happen. I may not have
Instead of being relieved to hear her voice, the high-pitched, happy-happy
tone had been like a red-hot steel rod shoved through his brain. She‟d
invited him to a church picnic next weekend, and his first reaction had been
dread.
What was the matter with him?
Alyssa Devereaux.
It had taken Tyler‟s intrusion, Alyssa‟s subtle rebuff, and his own
intoxication to realize that maybe the best course of action was to fuck her
and get her out of his system. Of course, that option wasn‟t available just
now since she was otherwise occupied.
Thank God he‟d bought this bottle from Alyssa‟s bartender after
Deke‟s visit.
What did Tyler do for her that got her off so satisfactorily? Was he an
oral god? Was he exceptionally well hung? Luc made a face at the thought
of Tyler‟s man parts. The one thing he very much doubted was that Tyler
could surpass his stamina. Luc knew he had the bouncer—and just about
anyone else—beat at that game.
Not that he‟d ever been proud of the fact he sometimes went into a
sexual frenzy and didn‟t emerge for hours . . . and didn‟t ask a lover about
her comfort or pleasure. He took and gave to her relentlessly until she was
78
Shayla Black
a slave to the clawing need. In his altered state, he lived for her fingernails
in his back, her breathy pleas, and above all, her screams.
Suddenly, Alyssa‟s porch light flipped on. The front door opened. Tyler
stepped outside, and she emerged behind him, wearing a pale satin gown
that flirted with her bare thighs, her hair spilling down her back like a
shining beacon.
The bouncer reached the door of his truck, then turned. He cupped
Alyssa‟s shoulders, brought her against his big body, stroked the soft crown
of her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking perfectly comfortable
in his arms.
Luc looked away and took another swallow of whiskey. The liquid
crashed to the bottom of his stomach, burning. Or was his gut on fire
because he kept playing the vision of Tyler fucking Alyssa over and over in
his head?
No avoiding the truth now. Luc was so damn jealous he could hardly
see straight. Wasn‟t irony a bitch?
Alyssa straightened. Tyler murmured something, then kissed her
forehead. She nodded—then stepped back.
Luc frowned. If they‟d been burning up the sheets for the past hour,
wouldn‟t they part with a lingering kiss?
Finally, the other man hopped into his sleek black truck and drove off.
Alyssa watched him turn the corner. Then she clapped eyes on his own
SUV.
“Luc?”
Fuck . He should have left, driven off someplace so he didn‟t have to
see her with Tyler—and have her know that he‟d been watching. But no,
he‟d been too busy drowning in alcohol and jealousy to think straight.
With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree, his gaze glued to her
slender form, the breeze rustling her silky hair, her nipples poking the front
of her shimmering low-cut negligee, the satin clinging to her hips.
Tyler had probably just crawled from between her thighs, and damn if
Luc didn‟t want to crawl between them himself. He wanted her so badly, he
didn‟t give a shit if he got sloppy seconds.
He was in so fucking deep.
Finally, he stepped into the streetlamp‟s pool of light.
79
Shayla Black
Alyssa gasped, then smothered the sound with her hand. She peered
down at the bottle he clutched. “You‟re drunk.”
Luc wished that were true. He shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Come inside the house and let‟s get some sleep.” She turned for the
front door.
He darted after her. Just inside the foyer, he grabbed her arm. “You
have nothing else to say?”
She sent him a sharp glare. “No one asked you to leave.”
“So I was supposed to watch him maul you?” Luc slammed the door,
enclosing them in shadowy silence. Then something terrible occurred to
him. “Oh, hell, no. Did you want us both to fuck you? Together? Never
going to happen. I may not have
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