Page 54 of Forbidden Eyes

He chuckles and turns to face me, a grin creeping up his face.

“It was a good night.” My own chuckle comes back at him as I pour another shot and push one over to him, ignoring my phone vibrating in my pocket. Perhaps I should just get blind drunk after I’ve fucked, enjoy another night of whatever we did last time round. I’m certainly not answering a phone. Vacation. Time the fuck off.

“Can’t remember half of it, let alone crashing the car. You’re bad news. I shouldn’t even be here with you.”

“Says Carter Wade. The man who not only fucks girls to near death, but also happens to bring Cane shit all over my city. What is it this time?”

“I’m on vacation.”

He spits his champagne over the floor in laughter, his hand reaching for the tequila instead.

“Vacation? Well, damn. What you after?”

“Something pure.” The laugh that continues to echo makes me pour a shot, knocking it back just as quick. “But you don’t have that hanging around, so something unavailable will do.”

He nods out into the room, showing me a bunch of women over in the far corner.

“They’re all out on a bachelorette party. The blonde wearing a crown is getting married next weekend.”

That’ll do for me.

It’s as close to forbidden as I’m gonna find in here.

And blonde.

“Give me an hour or two.”

I knock back the next shot and nod at him before heading through the crowd and dodging all the incoming women as I go. That blonde is all I’m interested in. She’s giggling, seemingly happy, and young enough that I can imagine she’s a couple of years younger than she is. Shame she’s no virgin, and by the way she’s grinding her ass on her friend I’m thinking she’s far from pure. Not that I give a fuck. I’ll take whatever I can get to make damn sure I forget about what I can’t have. Perhaps I’ll be able to concentrate on my damn job then, go home and forget Sofia Vico even exists.

My smile sets in place, the same one I always use to get what I want out of a woman, and I head towards the small section they’re dancing in. It only takes two minutes for me to get noticed by one of the friends. She sidles over, pink pouty lips and brown hair getting in my fucking way. I cajole her to the side of me, arm wrapped around her, but eyes still locked on the body of the blonde. That’s all I give a damn for now. This one can come, too, if she wants. Fuck it. They all can. As long as I can get balls deep in the blonde, I’m up for it.

She finally notices me, and her eyes glance me over, tongue rolling over her lips. Yeah, she’s up for it. I lift the bottle and swig some more tequila, watching as she makes her way over to me.

“Hey,” she says, getting her body up nice and close.

“Hey.”

“What’s your name?” she asks. The hell does that matter? I keep my stare fixed on her mouth, trying to imagine Fia’s voice. “I’m—” I lean in, kissing the name away before she lets it out into the air. I don’t give a fuck what her name is, and I let her know that by yanking her body up closer to mine.

Cheers go up around me, and all the noise brings me back to the here and now rather than the abyss I’m hoping to fall into. Fuck. She tastes sour, like she’s been downing lime shots or some shit. Where are the strawberries? I break off, eyes staring at hers as I try to process someone else’s face. Jesus.

“Wow,” she splutters out, all smiles and giggles again. “Hi to you, too.”

I don’t know what the fuck happens then, but something takes hold in my head. I feel wrong, like my whole goddamn body is baulking against what I’m trying to achieve. I look at her starting to dance in front of me again, already bored by the look of her up so close.

Jesus, I need to get my shit together. My head shakes. I need to fuck, that’s all. Get drunk and fuck. And ignore this damn phone that keeps vibrating in my pocket.

Vacation. Time out. I’m not fucking looking at it. I’m looking at this woman and getting up inside her as soon as possible.

Someone’s hand reaches for mine—the brunette’s. My head whips to look at her instead, maybe thinking I’ll be more interested in her. I’m not, and the fact that my feet are walking backwards without me even asking them to should give me a fair indication of what the hell is happening. I’m fucked up over a woman, aren’t I?

A Vico woman.

I growl at my own situation, but it doesn’t stop me walking away like my body is refusing to cooperate with my thoughts. Or maybe it is influencing my thoughts. Fuck knows. I’m a mess. Carter Wade—fucked up. I down some more tequila and head into the crowd again, confused about what the hell I’m doing or what I was ever trying to achieve here. I’m damn well lost in my own head again, a riot of emotions and desires muddling what should be so damn simple.

My phone vibrates again as I slip through the side entrance to leave and end up in a dirty back alley, tequila bottle still in my hand. I snatch the phone out of my inside pocket, annoyed with it, the world, and my goddamn dick for suddenly not knowing how to collaborate with the plan.

"Yo, got a light, man?" a guy calls.

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