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he’d get to fuck up Alistair’s shit. He unlocked the hotel room door and entered, immediately noticing Sloan was nowhere to be found. A moment’s panic hit him, but he calmed when he heard movement in the room’s en suite.
    “Sloan?” he called.
    “Just a moment,” she replied, her voice muffled through the closed door.
    He listened as she moved around what he knew was the large bathroom, and Adam could swear he heard her hum, the soft, sultry sound worming its way into his blood. The sound made him clench his fists as he fought to maintain his control. Two seconds and the sound of her voice had him on edge, ready for her. He turned away, figuring that staring at the door was not a good use of his time, and went to his luggage.
    He kept his head turned when he heard the door open. “I was wondering if you were going to make it back in time—”
    Despite his unspoken promise not to do so, Adam turned. Sloan was still talking, but Adam couldn’t hear her, not really. He couldn’t when all of his senses were completely enraptured by the sight of her.
    He’d never seen Sloan like this—he’d never seen anyone as beautiful. She’d pulled half of her braids up into a twist and let the other half trail down her shoulders. Her bare shoulders.
    Adam followed the trail of her hair down and over her shoulders across her skin until his gaze snagged on the gauzy white fabric of her sleeveless dress. A moment later, he continued down the dress. There wasn’t much too it, really just a scrap of fabric that stopped just above her knees, hugging and caressing Sloan’s body in a worshipful way that he wanted to mimic. The hard-on that his chat with Alistair had managed to tame came back full force.
    “Did you hear me?”
    Adam blinked at the sound of her voice and then, with great effort, lifted his eyes to her.
    “Sorry. What did you say?” Adam responded.
    “Did you find anything?”
    “Nothing important, but I did have a little conversation with our proprietor.”
    “Pleasant, I take it,” she said, though the little smile on her face told him she thought anything but.
    “You know me,” he replied with a shrug, at which she laughed.
    “So what do you think?” she asked.
    “He’s an asshole, and scummy as fuck, but I don’t have anything beyond that,” he said. “I should get ready.”
    Adam walked toward the bathroom, careful not to look at Sloan more than necessary. He showered and dressed in a half hour, then stepped back out of the bathroom. His gaze immediately centered on Sloan where she sat, one of her legs tucked under her, looking as delectable, more so than she had earlier.
    Adam only barely bit back a groan, his cock now hard enough to hammer nails.
    This trip was going to kill him.

6
    “ C an you pass the bread ?” Dirk, Sloan and Adam’s tablemate, asked.
    Adam grunted and slid the basket across the table to the man, who was in his midforties, his dark hair thinning on the top.
    “Thank you kindly, Adam,” Dirk said. Then he looked at Adam, eyes twinkling conspiratorially. “I gotta carbo-load for tonight.”
    “Yeah, carbo-load,” Adam said, barely managing to get the words out.
    It was enough for Dirk, though, who brightened immediately, which drew a groan from Adam. Fortunately, Dirk soon looked at his wife Candy, eyeing her like he wanted to slather her in butter and devour her like a piece of bread. But exercising restraint Adam thanked God for, Dirk reached for the bread, keeping his eyes off Candy long enough to butter the roll and take a bite.
    His eyes lit up. “Did you taste this, honey?” he asked, mouth full.
    He lifted his arm, extended the roll to Candy, a thin blonde, also in her midforties, who took a big bite.
    “Umm. Yummy,” she said.
    “Not as yummy as you.”
    Dirk had only finished speaking when Candy started kissing him, though it looked to Adam like she was trying to suck his tongue out of his head.
    Adam tightened his arm around Sloan, and she glanced over