...With an air of “don’t-fuck-with-me” in her step, she made her way toward him. “The bartender seems to think you can be of some assistance,” she declared, stopping a mere six inches to the left of the man’s seated frame.

He ignored her, choosing instead to take a long swig from his mug.

Removing her laser from its holster on her left thigh, she plopped it onto the counter top. Her hand rested lightly on its black metallic shape, her finger hugging the trigger. “Well?”

“I can take you there, for a price,” he replied, his deep voice a thunderous rumble within his muscular chest.

Annoyed, she lifted her chin. “Name it,” she practically growled.

The man chuckled. “It’ll be steep,” he warned. “Perhaps more than you’re willing to pay.”

Gaelyn’s patience wore thin. They wasted precious time. Is this guy gonna get down to business or what?

Struggling to see his face beneath the shadowed hood, she leaned a little closer. “Look, buddy. I don’t have time for games. Either name your price or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

He glanced at her, his onyx, deep-set eyes two bottomless black pits within his handsome angular face. “I want half the booty. For starters.”

Gaelyn’s breath caught in her throat. Reese.

This wasn’t happening.

He pulled back his hood, letting the heavy material fall onto his broad shoulders in a neatly folded pleat. “Hello, Gael. It’s been a long time.”

Her right fist doubled at her waist. With forced control, she resisted the urge to knock that superior smirk right off his handsome face. “Reese,” she said through clenched teeth. “I suppose you’re after the same hit.”

He shrugged. “It’s a sizeable payoff.”

“He’s my contract.” Warning laced her tone.

Reese turned fully toward her, his massive frame almost comical atop the strained bar stool. “Well now, seems we have a difference of opinion on that matter.”

He offered a grin so seductive it could melt the ice right off Quaoar’s frozen surface. The bartender’s description fit him to a tee. With his rectangular features—the wide zygomatic breadth, the broad jaw and flaring gonial angles, the prominent chin—Reese did look like the devil himself. Of course the red skin, horns, and barbed tail only added to his demonic appearance.

Gaelyn’s gaze dropped to the tight black T-shirt stretched across his bulging pecs and flat abs. Warning bells clamored in her head, but her inspection continued on to the waistband of his faded jeans, and inevitably to the generous bulge at his groin. An old song her father used to play popped in her head and it took everything she had not to belt it aloud.

The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal.

In a bind, cause he was way behind, he was lookin’ to make a deal...

Despite her fury, Gaelyn’s insides responded. Her stomach knotted with instant need, causing her pussy to clench. One couldn’t dispute the man’s virility. While they’d never “hooked” up, she couldn’t deny her attraction. She’d be willing to bet half the contracted pay that he’d be awesome in bed.

She’d heard Trøndite males had large penises, that they were, in fact, able to do extraordinary things with their members. She wasn’t sure what those things might be, but the swell in his pants clearly indicated his considerable endowed. She imagined herself down on all fours with Reese up behind her, pounding his big cock in and out of her tight channel.