Page 60 of Brutal Sin

“Of course it is.” She grabbed his arm, those fingers searing skin and nerves. “Seriously, I need to get lucky. I’ll take whatever help I canget.”

She batted her lashes, and his dick shoved hard against his zipper, expecting a high-five.

“I’m eager for your expertise.” She swiveled, turning her back to the bar. “What about thatguy?”

For the next hour,he went through the pros and cons of every male in the building. The pros were few and far between. For good reason. He couldn’t find anyone to entrust with her pleasure.

A third of them wore wedding bands. Others leered with no manners or respect. Another chunk of potentials were wiped from the board because they simply didn’t look good enough.

He didn’t know what it would take to earn his respect, but nobody here had even a glimpse of it, which was becoming harder to explain to Ella, who seemed to have slid on intoxication goggles and considered every man who walked through the door a potential candidate.

He’d had to point out the gay guy who only had eyes for his friend’sass.

He’d had to discuss the downfall of being with someone who spent ten minutes staring at the drink board. Because, seriously, if it took you more than two minutes to figure out your own needs, there was no point wasting a lifetime trying to determine Ella’s.

The man she currently ogled wore a plaid shirt, dirty faded jeans, and muddy cowboy boots. Which, realistically, wasn’t a bad thing. He looked like he had a good work ethic. But… “If you’re still into fucking cattle, go forit.”

She snorted, her happiness springing through him like a gunshot. “That’s an unfair assumption.”

He didn’t give ashit.

“What about him?” She tilted her chin toward the man at the far end of thebar.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” The guy had stuck-up-suit written all overhim.

“What’s wrong with him?” she slurred through bubbles of laughter, and he immediately regretted reinstating her drinking privileges. “He’s cute. He also has good fashion sense. Hell, I could ask him to strip and simply touch him for hours.” She slapped her hands together in prayer. “Please, Brute, let me touch his nakedness. I can’t remember the last time I got to put my hands on a guy’sbody.”

His nostrils flared. “A few nights ago doesn’t ring a bell?” Why didn’t she just punch him in the dick? The injury would’ve hurt less than the insult.

She balked. “I barely got to touch you. Hell, girlfriend—” she waggled her head at him, “—if I had the chance to sink my nails into you, you’d knowit.”

“Girlfriend?” He pushed from his stool. “You’re too drunk for this. Either sober up or I’ll have to take youhome.”

She pouted. “Okay, daddy.”

Fuck. Me.

She snorted again. “I’m joking. Stop glaring at me like that. Christ, you throw in a daddy line and everyone gets offended.”

Yeah, he was fucking offended, because any other reaction while imagining spanking her over his knee wasn’t goddamn appropriate. If only his cock would get thememo.

“I’ll be back in a sec. Behave while I’mgone.”

He needed a bathroom break.

An Ellabreak.

She wasn’t the only one who needed to sober up. The alcohol heating his veins spewed some pretty crazy shit into hismind.

Jesus Christ, he could fucking taste her with every swallow.

Good news was, he hadn’t thought of his family. Not until now, when his lust dissipated with eachstep.

He hadn’t contemplated why his dying mother couldn’t gather a glimmer of affection to call her only child to say goodbye. He hadn’t pondered why his father hadn’t picked up the phone—now or in the past months. He didn’t think about how the two people who were supposed to love him the most hadn’t given a fuck about him at all, because his concentration kept focusing back on Ella with pinpoint precision.

He shoved into the bathroom, stood in front of the basin, and stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror.

Something wasn’t right.

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