my growing hard-on. She takes her time kissing lower, down my abs, until she’s on her knees in front of me.
I look down, see blond waves loose over ivory shoulders. I stiffen for her.
She tugs at the waistband of my underwear. “I’m going to show this bad boy how much I’ve missed him.”
I grasp handfuls of her silky hair. Her gaze lifts to mine, and everything comes into focus. Auburn hair, not blond. Green eyes, not blue.
The cyclone inside me rips its way out in a growl. The next second I’m across the room. I twist the top off the Tanqueray with a shaking hand and take a long swig directly from the bottle. The burn is real, something I can grasp onto, and it helps calm the storm. I set the bottle down and turn to face her. “I said I can’t.”
Her eyes flick to my cock and she trails her fingertips along the curve of her breast. “Your body says different, Robby.”
I take another swig of gin and set the bottle down. “Go to bed, Sophie. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her expression becomes wounded. “You’re not the same guy.”
She’s right. I never would have turned down a good fuck back in Chicago. My heart kicks in my chest when it hits me why I’m turning it down now. “I fell in love.”
She moves closer and her expression softens, her green eyes piercing mine. “I was in love once.” My jaw tightens as she lifts a hand and strokes a finger down my chest. She moves past me, looks over her shoulder at me when she reaches her bedroom door. “I won’t tell anyone where you are. Despite what you might think, I’m glad you’re okay. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Then she’s gone.
* * *
Sophie has a late-morning interview at a Tampa news station. We barely talk in the suite or in the car. When David drops her at the airport, she stretches up onto her tiptoes, and her lips brush my cheek on the way to my ear.
“Be safe,” she whispers.
I stand in the terminal after she clears security, staring at the flight schedule. There are two flights to Chicago leaving in the next ninety minutes.
“Let’s blow this clambake,” David says, heading for the door.
“Go ahead without me,” I tell him, deciding on the three o’clock flight.
“What?” he asks with a bemused grin. “You’re going to walk back?”
“I’ve got somewhere to be.” I turn for the ticket counter.
“And where the fuck is that?” he yells after me.
I ignore him and step up to the desk. The ticket agent grimaces when she tells me there are only first-class seats available. I buy my ticket and check my duffel. David’s still there when I pass by on the way to security.
“Tell Elaine thanks for the shot,” I say, “but it just wasn’t my thing.”
He squints at me in confusion. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” I answer, already past him.
“You’re one seriously fucked-up character,” he says to my back. “But if you stuck it to that actress last night, you’re smart to get your mangy ass out of Dodge before Elaine gets her hands on you.”
I flip him off without turning around, then toss my phone into the trash on the way into security. With my Glock checked in my duffel, I’m through in no time. The PA is calling for final boarding of my flight just as I make the gate. I pull the cash from my wallet and toss the rest before boarding. I can’t risk anyone in Chicago being able to trace me back here.
When I settle into my seat, the flight attendant comes by our row and takes an empty glass from the guy next to me. “We’re just getting ready to close the cabin doors for departure, but I’ll be back as soon as we’re in the air for your drink order.”
I nod and she heads up front. She pulls the door closed, then picks up the phone on the wall and tells the passengers to power down their laptops.
When she comes back for my drink order, I swallow the panic snaking up my throat with a double G and T. Panic that has nothing to do with what I’ll find in Chicago, and everything to do with the fact that I’m leaving the only real thing I’ve ever had behind.
* * *
It’s dusk when my flight lands at O’Hare. I grab my duffel off the luggage carousel, find a taxi at the