She could kill Trey. She knew he was walking just behind her, watching her ass in the tight black low-rise leather pants as she tried to walk in the stripper’s four-inch heels that were a size too big. “You’re a dancer, remember? Try to be a little more graceful,” he whispered behind her. She shot him a killer look over her shoulder. “We’re off the plane, remember? No more talking.” He was trying hard not to laugh at her and she was trying harder not to whack him with the stripper’s giant leather purse full of the makeup and hairspray he’d made her put on. She looked like a clown, or worse, the cocktail waitress at work. “Ooo. I hate you right now.” Her stomach roiled with frustration. He made a mock hurt face. “But, sweetheart, I love you so.” Turning away from him, she focused all of her concentration on the downward descent, hoping this assignment would get better, which wasn’t very likely. Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and the solid ground of the tarmac, she found it a bit easier to maneuver in the heels.
What do You think about Trey: Red, Hot & Blue, Book 1?
