Two weeks. Lucifer had been out for just over two weeks, and he had little to show for it. Granted, he was doingalrightfor himself, what with not exactly being tossed out on the street anywhere or managing to get arrested again just yet. But the convict was tired of crashing of his friend Az’s place (the apartment really was a dump) and the bit of work he was picking up at his cousin’s construction sites just… wasn’texactlycutting it. (It gave him some cash, sure, but it wasn’t like the job was just letting Lucifer roll in the dough and retire on some rich island.)
So a bit of side-dealing helped line his pockets a little more thickly, and he was able to get his bike working again. (Az had at least kept the motorcycle in semi-working condition while he was locked up.)
But what the ex-convict really felt missing was one, single, thing. Something he’d been without for the past several years and he hadn’t even had the luck to find the right one to soothe that particular itch the moment he got it. This town was too small, the women were too pure. None of them were right for the kind of fuck he needed…
Until Lucifer saw her walking down the sidewalk that afternoon. And he just knew it was right.