Free Spin Devil by Red Garnier Page A

friends had grown during the past years. All of
them looked more mature, the years gone by somehow etched in their brows, the
spark of experience glimmering in their eyes. But now, hours later, she gazed
at each of them while they drank and smoked and dared and laughed, and realized
that time had not changed them. They were still the dear, reckless friends
she’d known before.
    Jason was still as handsome as she remembered, with his
tanned jock’s body and regal blond hair. He played professional golf now and
she’d often seen his familiar face on TV, brow usually furrowed in
concentration as he focused on his swing. Jason rarely found fault in anything,
and his easygoing, carefree manner accounted for the dozens of times someone
had pulled him aside to spill his or her guts to him, treating him like a
shrink. Jason didn’t mind at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy having an excuse
to laze around quietly and do nothing more than nod.
    Being his complete opposite and a man who inspired nothing
but shivers, Sebastian Russo was as dark as night, and as reckless and rude as
ever. For some cruel reason the years had only enhanced his masculinity,
something he seemed blatantly aware of—and which he used to his advantage. His
eyes, those coal-black eyes, hawk-like and narrowed under the vicious slashes
of his eyebrows, served as weapons to issue unspoken threats and bend his
targets to his will—be they man or woman. There was strength in his face, in
his brow, in the straightness of his nose and the firmness of jaw, as if he’d
been cast in iron—which could account for his seeming inability to smile or
grin or laugh.
    He wore his thick mass of silken black hair longer now, falling
past his ears with a light curl at the ends. His hair and his luscious full
lips were his mildest characteristics—though not necessarily the least
threatening. The truth was, just by sitting there, Sebastian managed to engulf
the space surrounding him like a black hole—consuming and overpowering
everything around him. Cleo had no idea what he did for a living but she
imagined it was something that fit his vicious black heart. Maybe even killing
for hire.
    Then there was David—tall, distinguished-looking David, who
was a man with ideals, with goals. A man known throughout college for his
kindness and sensitivity as well as for his hard work and ambition. No matter
how big a salary he was earning on Wall Street, he still looked every bit the
studious, clean-cut frat guy Cleo had always known. Of course, he’d grown even
more gorgeous during the years, his sculpted face now firmer, stronger, having
lost some of the boyish qualities that Cleo had found so attractive when they’d
met during their first year at college.
    Next was Luella, who’d highlighted her light brown hair with
silky blonde streaks. Though she now looked every inch the bombshell with her
new boobs, she was still the same foul-mouthed smoker Cleo knew so well. Enjoy
life to its fullest was Luella’s motto. There was probably nothing she wouldn’t
try and no feat too impossible for her to tackle. Even if it was impossible, she’d never let that keep her from trying. She worked in real
estate now and she sometimes slept with her clients to celebrate a purchase, so
she thought her job was “fucking great”.
    Then came the spirited, talkative Haley, a recently
confessed fashion freak since she’d lost a few pounds. Now her body, although
petite, was curvaceous and enticing, her long, wavy hair blazing red under the
glow of the flickering lantern lights. She was a publicist at a tobacco company
and had brought free smokes for them all—which had been, for the most part,
consumed by Sebastian.
    And finally Cleo. Shy, sweet Cleo, who wore the same solid,
conservative dresses she used to wear—the ones that hid her uncomfortable C-cup
breasts rather well—and her shiny black hair in the usual neat bun at her nape.
    Unlike Haley and Luella, Cleo disliked colorful,