On Every Street by Karina Halle Page A

wondered if he even believed it. His eyes were emotionless, still locked on me. Suddenly he burst forward and kissed me, full of fire and passion. I could taste salt and a wetness from his cheeks and I wasn’t sure what to make of this man. He was constantly surprising me and catching me off-guard.
    We made out for a few minutes, just our mouths communicating with each other by feel and touch. The world, my scars, drifted away for those blissful seconds.
    Then he stopped and covered up my leg with the blanket.
    “You lie here. I’ll get breakfast started,” he said , and slipped on a thin pair of lounge pants over his perky ass, his skin glowing more golden than usual in the light of the morning sun. He had a large tattoo of an elaborate cross running up and down his spine, adding to his bad boy appeal.
    Soon he was back, bringing me a tray of scrambled eggs with rosemary, seven grain toast with fresh raspberry jam , and a glass of freshly squeezed blood orange juice. He went back for the espresso and climbed in bed with me while we ate, and he told me a bit about his four sisters back at home in Mexico. I had the impression that he took care of them all financially, but I didn’t want to press it. Not yet.
    After we were done eating, we showered together and he insisted on soaping up nearly every inch of me. He teased my ass crack with his foaming fingers and that’s where I drew the line. He just told me he’d convince me one day; that he’d end up owning every part of me, inside and out. I ended up giving him another blow job instead.
    With my head in a daze of pheromones, we eventually left the house and he drove me back to Biloxi where I had to get ready for my shift.
    I got out of the car, feeling like a totally different person despite wearing the same clothes as the day before. I leaned on the driver’s side door and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
    “Thanks for everything,” I told him.
    The corned of his mouth lifted. “Angel, you haven’t even seen everything yet. But you will. How about I pick you up on Monday at noon?”
    Seeing as it was Saturday, that had me a bit disappointed. But I was working for the next two days anyway. It’s funny how quickly I had turned into someone that wanted to spend every minute with a guy. That had never happened to me before. I guess I could blame it on working the long con, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t it.
    I told him Monday was perfect and said goodbye. I watched as he drove off, then prepared myself for the next two days. I was going to spend every second of it trying to get my head back on track. Everything depended on it. Even my heart.
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    Monday crashed through the weekend like a bull in a china shop. At first I wasn’t supposed to work that evening but Deanne got sick and I was called in. It was only from seven to eleven though, which meant my date with Javier was still on, it just got sliced in two.
    I spent Saturday and Sunday trying to get my wits together. I focused one hundred percent on my job, trying to work past the apprehension that was left over from my last shift. By the time Sunday night rolled around, I was handling the customers with ease and working through my Javier problem.
    On the surface, there wasn’t really a problem. The plan was going as planned and then some. Back in Dallas, I looked to this moment and imagined that I’d be having to get in with some sleazy old man, feeling ashamed and desperate of my actions. But, though Javier was definitely a player with some serious skills, he wasn’t an old man. He was young and virile and made me feel like a million dollars.
    And that, of course, was the real problem. I was becoming too attached to my mark. I thought it was lucky that I happened to win over someone like him, but feelings muddled things , and I was spending more time thinking about him from an emotional and romantic point of view than I was from the cold-level of detachment that I