Angela stood—all five foot nothing of her—before replying with a coy grin, “Sounds good to me.”
Well, clearly no challenge there.
Sawyer noticed her black minidress was barely covering her rather impressive assets. Her breasts were spilling out the front of the dark spandex that was stretched to its limit, and the hem was hovering just beneath her cute little ass. And she did have a cute little ass even if she probably didn’t have a functioning brain cell. Where Greyson found chicks like her, Sawyer still didn’t know.
“Give me a sec,” Sawyer told them, tapping the bar after stepping out of their way.
“No problem, man. We’re in Room Three-oh-seven when you’re ready.”
Sawyer nodded at Greyson and then signaled the bartender over.
A few minutes later, after stalling yet again, Sawyer retrieved the bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he’d requested and made his way to the elevator in the main lobby.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?”
Sawyer spun on his boot heel when he heard his brother’s voice coming from behind him.
“I should probably ask you the same. Why aren’t you at home with your wife and kid?” Sawyer asked Kaleb, the brother who had seemed to set the dominoes in motion when he decided to go after his best friend Zoey a couple of years back, convincing her to marry him after making her fall in love with his ass.
“Just had to take care of a problem. It’s settled now, and Zane’s keepin’ an eye on things tonight. Why’re you here?”
Sawyer lifted the bottle of whiskey up as though that was all the answer Kaleb needed. As it turned out, it was.
“Got it. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe?”
“I’ll be in the office at the normal time,” Sawyer assured him.
“Good. See you then.”
Sawyer stood rooted to the floor as he watched Kaleb walk out the main doors and into the night. His brother was going home to his wife, Zoey, and their little boy, Mason. Kaleb was going to spend the evening with his family, while Sawyer was going to spend the night indulging himself in liquor and pussy. When Kaleb woke up in the morning, he’d have his wife in his arms, and before he left for the day, he would kiss her, then his son, before he headed off to work. When Sawyer woke up in the morning, he’d probably have a damn hard time finding his clothes and he’d be intimate with a hangover that would linger for most of the day.
Same shit, different girl . . . uh . . . day. Different day.
Fuck.
Glancing over at the elevator doors, Sawyer knew he should turn around, walk back the way he’d originally come, and go home before he screwed up another night.
Yes, that’s exactly what he should’ve done.
But what did he do?
Well, he didn’t turn around. Instead, he found himself standing in front of the elevator doors, still debating. He punched the button to take him up.
Obviously he wasn’t debating too damn hard.
The elevator arrived, so, rather than waste a perfectly good opportunity, Sawyer stepped inside and stabbed the button for the third floor before glancing down at the bottle in his hand. Yep, he’d need his buddy Jack to keep him company tonight. Especially if he was going to be immersed in Angela. It seemed the alcohol had become as much of a necessity these days as a condom.
When the elevator doors opened, Sawyer stepped out, made his way to the hall. He stopped, glanced to his right, then his left. He knew exactly where he was going, but he needed a minute. His feet weren’t quite as on board with the idea as he originally thought. He took a breather, although he wasn’t winded. Leaning against the wall, he studied the black label on the bottle in his hand.
“Jack, you really up for this tonight?”
If only whiskey could talk back, tell him that he wasn’t up for a night with a strange, albeit willing woman, no matter how cute she was or how soft her lips looked. Then again, if the whiskey could talk, his dick would likely argue back. As much as his dick liked the idea of her using those soft lips to blow him, Sawyer’s head just wasn’t in it and he didn’t need Jack to confirm that for him.
He knew that he could push off the wall and make his way down the hall to Room 307, walk in, strip naked, and fuck the blonde in every way possible until the sun came up. But then when he walked out of that room, he would still want Kennedy and at that point he’d have dug himself an even deeper hole. One that eventually he would find himself buried in.
Was that really what he wanted? Another night of mindless sex? He’d spent his entire adult life having one willing woman after another, but even he knew there was a reason he was still single, still pining after the woman he had deemed the one he couldn’t have.