Parties are so lame.
Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Techno music blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she’d danced and laughed?
Hell. She couldn’t remember.
She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of red-blooded male.
A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled towards her. “Hel-lo beautiful.” A wide grin curled his lips. He winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. “You shouldn’t stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty.”
She crooked one brow. “They’ll wash.”
“Yeah?” He wobbled on his feet. “Feathers work in washing machine?” He burped and his eyes widened. “I made a funny.” He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.
Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn’t the man she had in mind. Her dream man didn’t slop alcohol on anyone. Was she thinking of someone impossible? Probably.
“So, do ya wanna go make out?” He licked his lips. “I’m a great kisser.”
“Go home, Brett.”
Livia’s blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set all her nerve endings on end.
“Butt out, Ty.” Brett smacked his lips. “We were gonna have sex.”
“No we weren’t,” Livia snapped. “You spilled beer on me.”
“Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don't want shit on my carpet.”
The owner of the deep voice stepped out from behind Livia and grabbed Brett’s arms. Her jaw dropped. This man, Ty if she remembered, embodied her innermost desires. Towering, filled out with lean muscle, thick dark hair with just a hint of curl and that voice. Her pussy clenched and cream coated her panties. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body?
Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be murder on a sound system. Every moment she waited, her conscience ate into her more. Waiting made her look weak. It made her look needy.
Damn.
No. She’d waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he’d have come back. She turned and made her way to the back door. In the kitchen doorway, she plowed into a scantily clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.
“Watch it,” the tiger snapped. “Nice wings. Costume outlet or did you get then online?”
How the hell should she answer? The truth was so much more involved than anything. “Something like that.”
The cowboy tipped his hat. “Wanna join in? We’re always looking for a third.”
If they only knew what she’d done during her lifetime. “I’m good. No thanks.” Livia ducked her head and continued through the kitchen until she got to the back door.
Finally. Freedom.
Livia stopped on the back patio and stared up at the sky. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. Tears burned at the corner of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the dead, especially when they’d parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her heart and her life in his hands.
"Angel?"
Stay posted for next weeks addition.
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