Chapter 22

Not that he’d ever been proud of the fact he sometimes went into a sexual frenzy and didn’t emerge for hours . . . and didn’t ask a lover about her comfort or pleasure. He took and gave to her relentlessly until she was a slave to the clawing need. In his altered state, he lived for her fingernails in his back, her breathy pleas, and above all, her screams.

Suddenly, Alyssa’s porch light flipped on. The front door opened. Tyler stepped outside, and she emerged behind him, wearing a pale satin gown that flirted with her bare thighs, her hair spilling down her back like a shining beacon.

The bouncer reached the door of his truck, then turned. He cupped Alyssa’s shoulders, brought her against his big body, stroked the soft crown of her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking perfectly comfortable in his arms.

Luc looked away and took another swallow of whiskey. The liquid crashed to the bottom of his stomach, burning. Or was his gut on fire because he kept playing t