Free Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life by Mallory Monroe Page B

his way
around.   “I mean, to be clear,” Mick
responded, “ we will be riding the
Subway. She and I.   You stay here, deal
with the police, and call me when you’re done and backup has arrived.   I’ll alert you to my location at that time.”
    Deuce
couldn’t believe it.   Mick Sinatra on the
Subway?   Wait until the guys heard about
this!   “Yes, sir,” he said.
    And Mick
pulled Roz closer as they began to make their way toward the station.   They could hear police sirens drawing nearer,
as they walked away.
    And Roz
couldn’t help it.   She felt like a queen
walking beside Mick Sinatra.   He held her
close, with his hand on the small of her back, as they braved the rain with
brisk steps.   He was even able to handle
the umbrella magnificently.   It didn’t
balloon upwards not one time.   She was
impressed.
    She was also
extremely aware of his closeness.   From
the press of his strong hand on her back, to his wonderful cologne scent, to
the way he walked with such swag, she felt him.   And the way women were giving him
that assessing look as they walked pass, as if he was definitely the grand
prize on these streets, made her feel special in his presence.   She was still a little peeved with him, but
at least she got the chance to explain where her anger was coming from.   She felt good.
    When they
arrived at the station, paid for tickets and made their way onto the platform,
all eyes seemed to be on them.   Roz was
reasonably certain they weren’t staring because she and Mick were an
interracial twosome.   This was New York,
after all.   But they were staring, she
believed, because of Mick.   A man who
dressed like him, a man who had his look and style, a limousine man, rarely
rode the Subway.   It wasn’t impossible,
and it did happen, but not usually.   Add
to that the fact that Mick was drop dead gorgeous to boot, and Roz knew he was
the center of their attention more so than she.
    But when
they got on the nearly-packed train, it was Mick who had the exact opposite
impression.   Instead of noticing the
ladies assessing him, he couldn’t stop staring at the guys, all of them, who
were assessing Roz.   After finding her a
seat, sandwiched between a guy and a girl, he was forced to stand some distance
away, near the back.   And from his
vantage point he saw guy after guy check Roz out as if she was a leg of lamb
they were craving.   He understood why.   Just looking at her from a distance made him
ever more aware of her attractiveness.   And not just the fact that her brown skin was so chocolaty smooth and
unblemished, or her breasts looked so big and imposing beneath that shirt she
wore, but it was in the way she carried herself.   She smiled, she was polite, she seemed
entirely approachable to anybody watching her.
    Too
approachable, Mick felt, as visions of her alone on this train at night, and
some real murderous psychopath following her home and doing heaven knows what
to her, disturbed his peace.   He didn’t
like that worried feeling that just the thought created in him.   He didn’t like the fact that those men were
eyeing her, some even openly salivating over her.   And he especially didn’t like the fact that
any of it bothered him.   But it did.   It bothered him mightily.
    And when
they had bounced and jugged their way to Brooklyn, and the train stopped, he
became particularly concerned.   Because
Roz stood, indicating that this was their stop, and one guy, the guy who had
been sitting behind her, stood up and pinched her on her small, tight ass.   Mick quickly began moving people out of his
way as he hurried toward her, ready to knock the shit out of that man, but Roz
beat him to the punch.
    As soon as
Roz felt the pinch, she took her satchel and slammed it against the pincher’s
head.   “Do it again, creep!” she yelled
at him, staring him down.   And it was
enough.   That snake of a pinching man
slithered off of the train, suddenly in a massive