Page 73 of Golden Touch
She smells like flowers, and her skin is warm and silky. I take a slow, greedy breath of her. This woman will be the end of me, I swear.
“I’m mad at you,” Livia slurs, even as her fingertips explore my abs.
“Yeah? What did I do?”
“You sent me a babysitter. That’s sweet, but also con…” She grapples for the word, and she still hasn’t opened her eyes. “Condescending. And also dangerous. Poppy isn’t the kind of girl who could help me fight off a criminal.”
“Poppy is tougher than she looks. But you two were in no danger. I told you Benito’s guys were watching the place.”
“Pfft,” she says drunkenly. “A drive-by every half hour wouldn’t save me.”
“No kidding. That’s why the guy was parked across the way, tucked into that old logging road. I stopped to talk to him before I turned into the lot.”
She opens one eye. “Wait. Really?”
“Of course. You think I’d leave you here alone, like bait on a hook?”
She tucks her face into my bare chest. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
This guts me. I smooth her hair away from her face and choose my words carefully. “You are not alone in this. It’s a team effort, pussycat.”
“Hrmph,” she mumbles. “I’ve been a solo act my whole life.”
“Gettin’ that,” I murmur. “Poppy got a ride home? Her car is outside.”
“Yup. We got drunk.” She hiccups.
“You don’t say.”
She pokes me in the belly. “Poppy got an Uber. Benito’s other brother was the driver. They’re a good-looking family.”
I snort. “I think he’s still the only Uber driver in Colebury.” And that’s why the cop didn’t have to come out of his hidey hole to investigate the arriving car. Everybody knows Damien Rossi.
“Mmm,” she says sleepily. “There was also cake.Reallygood cake.”
“Poppy’s cakes are legendary.”
“It’ssogood,” she murmurs. “It’s better than sex. Well, not better than sex with you.”
“Wow. That’s quite a compliment. Because I just had some of that cake and it practically changed my life.”
She lifts her head and opens her eyes. “You ate some of my life-changing cake?”
I pull her head back down to my chest. “Easy, killer. There’s plenty left. But do you know what this means?”
She gives her head a little shake, and her soft hair caresses my chest.
“Well, by the transitive property, if that cake changed your life, and sex with me is better than that cake, then a good bang from me was also life changing.”
“Pfft,” she says. “Ego much?”
“It’smath, Livia. Can’t argue with math.”
Another shake of her head. “They’re both good. Really good. But they didn’t actually change my life. Nothing can change my life.”
“That’s the spirit,” I say drily.
“It’s just too late to change,” she says with a sleepy sigh. “And you shouldn’t have come in here. I’m too drunk and too tired for sex.”
