Vinnie's Ghost by Adrianna Dane

Author:Adrianna Dane [Dane, Adrianna]
Language: nld
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Lee had enjoyed the evening far too wel.

Tempting the fates in such a manner was sure to get him

leveled, but God, he loved Stroker so much, and it had

nothing to do with Vinnie. Yet Vinnie’s ghost stil stood

between them, and it was likely to remain there until

Lee took the steps to a final exorcism. The night was

quiet except for the ever-present roar of the surf. The

sound luled him, and Lee found himself reviewing the

pleasant evening just spent in Stroker’s company. He

recaled the way he ate his lobster with such gusto. The

butter that had dripped from his lips, the way he’d

sucked his fingers clean. Lee shivered even though the

night wasn’t al that cold. His body had begun to burn

again.

Later, he’d suckled at the lingering taste of that

butter on Stroker’s lips. That and the tang of white

wine, a pleasant taste, but not nearly so sweet as the

rest of Stroker’s body, the salty taste that had Lee

ravenous once more.

What he wouldn’t have given to stay, to stil be

holding Stroker in his arms. But he dared not let down

his guard. The damned secrets were going to kil him.

He had to find a way to tel him, to give Stroker the

letter, before it was too late. Before Lee could manage

to walk away without having his heart shredded by

Stroker’s disgust.

If only it were that easy. Lee knew it was already

too late. He was already in it up to his neck, drowning

in the strong attraction he felt for Stroker. No matter

what he did now, he wasn’t going to come out of this

unscathed. But he also realized he likely wouldn’t, or

couldn’t, change a thing. He wouldn’t have wanted not

to have met Stroker. He just wished it could have been

under different circumstances. There was nothing he

could do to change any of it now. He could only move

forward, show his hand, and let the cards fal where

they may.

“That’s him,” a male voice said from behind him,

just as he passed the movie house. A couple more

blocks and he’d have been back at the Driftwood.

Look out! The voice inside his head screamed a

warning. But it wasn’t quick enough.

The first blow caught him in the smal of his back,

ramming into his kidneys, dropping him to his knees, a

hand to the smal of his back. Before he had a chance

to recover, a second kick, this time to the ribs, came

from the left. He saw stars, the pain excruciating. He

dropped forward and roled, tried to get away, just

missing the next kick. Unsteadily he managed to get to

his feet, staggered back, tried to clear his head. A

punch caught him in the jaw and snapped his head

back. He swung, connected with flesh and bone, heard

a man cry out. The next blow came from the side. How

many where there? His vision was blurry, and he

couldn’t focus.

“Leave town, asshole,” a voice to his right said in

a nasty tone. Lee swung toward the voice. Something

rammed into his back. Once, then again. It felt like a

two-by-four or a basebal bat, too solid for it to be a

fist.

“Leave and don’t come back,” a different voice

said.

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