Chapter 8

Beverly stepped out of the ladies room and took a brief glimpse at where the big guy had been sitting with the two women. She felt a flash of disappointment when she saw the table was empty.

She charged the meal to her room, then went outside. In August, the nighttime air was still hot in Phoenix, and she guessed it was around ninety-five degrees. Even though it was warm and muggy, Beverly wasn’t quite ready to head back to her room. She decided to take a stroll around the grounds, thinking that she would leave tomorrow afternoon for California.

Her and her mom had rarely traveled. They had been to Disneyland once and to New Orleans once. She had always wanted to explore the west coast, and maybe she would find a nice, little town and settle down and get a job. What type of job, she had no idea. What type of job would an ex-doctor get? She doubted there would be a pharmaceutical company that would hire her—they’d probably be afraid she would consume the samples, and it was also a bad environment for an ex-junkie. Maybe she could find work with a private firm, or find someone looking for a personal physician. But then again, she didn’t have the MD behind her name any longer; she had Ex-MD. So what did an ex-doctor junkie do for a living?

Realizing she was almost back at her room, she happened to glance in the room to her left. She stopped cold in her tracks as something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

She gasped.

The curtains were parted just about a foot. The dim light inside revealed the big man from the bar and the brunette.

The brunette was laid out on the bedspread, her hands cuffed to the bedposts in furry, black clasps. Beverly always thought that people who used things like handcuffs engaged in rough sex, but not in this case. The woman was panting as the man lifted his face from in between her legs.

He traveled up her body, his movements smooth, like a jungle cat. His tendons and muscles rippled beneath his skin as his tongue explored the woman’s stomach, her hip, and then his mouth latched on to a breast, his long, thick sex jutting out from his hips. The woman began pulling at the cuffs, swinging her head from right to left, her eyes screwed tightly shut.

Beverly felt her hand travel to her neck as she watched, her breath coming in short spurts. The big man let go of the nipple, poised himself between the woman’s legs, and slowly pushed his hips forward. The woman pulled harder on the cuffs as her back bowed. His hips retreated, and he pushed again, this time with a little more force. He reached up to the cuffs, flicked a switch, and the woman took the opportunity of freedom to grab onto his chiseled arms.

Feeling heat pool between her legs, Beverly knew she should just start moving. She had no business watching these two people have sex, but she was transfixed, unable to put one foot in front of the other. She wrapped her other hand around her waist, as if she had a stomachache, while the other remained at her neck.

If she thought he was beautiful before, she now stood in stunned silence as she watched him. She felt as if she were watching some sort of erotic dance, not two people having sex. Actually, she couldn’t have cared less about the woman—she wasn’t what held Beverly’s attention. As his hips thrust and retreated, the muscles and tendons beneath his skin rolled. A shimmer of sweat covered his body, and her mouth went dry. She heard the muffled cries as the woman’s body contracted and writhed in pleasure.

Suddenly, he turned his gaze to the window. She felt a flush come over her as their eyes locked. She wanted to move so badly, to get away from this terribly embarrassing situation, but she was transfixed, barely able to breathe let alone walk. After a long moment, he turned his head and closed his eyes. His hips began to move faster in long, confident strokes. A moment later, he threw his head back, gritting his teeth. He opened his eyes and looked at the brunette below him. Then his head slowly turned to the window, their eyes locking again. The expression on his face showed no emotion; it was as still as the air on a windless afternoon. The brunette said something, and he stared at Beverly for a heartbeat longer, then turned his attention to the woman. He got up from the bed and moved toward the window. Beverly inhaled sharply as he approached. As he stood at the window, gloriously naked, his sex still hard, his black hair streaming around his shoulders, he stared at her. He gave her a small smile, then shut the curtains all the way.

Beverly inhaled a deep breath and ran to her room.