Disclaimer: I don't own The Covenant.


Pogue followed Reid's stare to the chick leaning over the bar and groaned—not again.

But, of course, Reid slapped some of the money he'd just taken Aaron for down on the felt. "Blue cotton."

"Pink lace," was Tyler's guess. It was always his guess. Pogue figured the guy was just hedging his bets—eventually they had to run across a woman who wore pink lace panties, right?

But not this time. Pogue already knew the answer. The girl's name was Samantha, and she'd had a thing for him a while back. "Boys," he said, slapping his down on top of Reid's, "That girl hasn't worn panties since the day she turned twelve." She'd confessed as much to him once. It must have been around Christmas time because he remembered her doing obscene things to a candy cane.

But he still watched as Reid conjured a wind to lift her skirt. Samantha did have a damn fine ass after all.