Primal Instinct

by Tara Wyatt

“So what do you want to do?”

  “I think you know I used to work for Virtus.”

  She’d glanced away from him to look out the window and whipped her head back around at the name. “Yeah. Sierra mentioned it.”

  “Has she talked to Sean about…me, working for you?” His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, she noticed.

  “I asked her not to.”

  “You need to know that I…a job went wrong because I made a mistake, and I got fired. But if anyone can help us, it’s them.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

  As they drove up Vine, a high-rise office tower that she knew housed the Virtus Security offices came into view. She licked her lips, wishing she had a bottle of water. Wishing she could ask him about getting fired, but she knew now wasn’t the time.

  The last thing she wanted was for Colt to feel like he had to do something that would make him uncomfortable. She could at least try and protect him from that, even if it was too late to protect him from all the other shit he’d been through. Going to the man who’d fired him had to cost him, mentally and emotionally. “Listen, Colt, we don’t have to—”

  But he cut her off, his voice a little rough. “I promised I would keep you safe. And I will.”

  She nodded, swallowing around her thickening throat. “So, uh, in the spirit of honesty…” She hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her face hot and prickly. “I used to date one of the guys there.” She ran her tongue over her teeth, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details. Hoping that Zack wouldn’t be there, and that she could avoid that whole messy situation.

  For a reason she couldn’t quite name, she didn’t want Colt to know that Zack was the one who’d hurt her so bad. She already felt so transparent with him—he’d barely known her, and he’d known she’d been pushing him away because she’d had her heart broken. And although things were going well between them, she still felt somehow compelled to hold little bits and pieces of herself back, almost as though she were doling out parts of herself as rewards the longer he went without hurting her.

  Colt let out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. “Well, isn’t this just going to be a fucking party.”

  * * *

  Colt didn’t let himself hesitate as he pulled open one of the glass doors leading to the Virtus offices on the tenth floor of the office tower at the corner of Sunset and Vine. It didn’t matter that this was the last place he wanted to be or that the last person he wanted to ask for help was Sean Owens. Keeping Taylor safe was the only thing that mattered, and as much as it killed him, he didn’t want to risk trying to take on her psycho stalker and potentially a biker gang by himself. Sean might hate Colt, but that didn’t mean he was an asshole. No, if anyone was the asshole, it was Colt.

  A rolling wave of heat churned through his stomach as he ushered Taylor into the offices, and it hit him how much he fucking missed this place. He missed working with a team, and he missed the steady, secure paycheck. He glanced over at Taylor, who was pale, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes scanned the space. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the strap of her purse, her knuckles snow white against her skin.

  She was looking for him, the guy she used to date. Mentally, he went through the roster of guys. He knew it wasn’t Owens, and it likely wouldn’t have been Ian MacAllister, given that he didn’t date, ever. It could’ve been Jamie, but wouldn’t he have mentioned that at the poker game when he’d clued Colt in to Taylor’s Virtus connection? So that left Carter, which wasn’t impossible. The ex-NFLer was a good-looking guy, single, smart, good sense of humor. There was also the possibility it was someone Colt didn’t really know, or someone who’d started after he’d been canned. His stomach churned harder, and he pushed down the surge of jealousy washing over him as he took a few steps toward the circular stainless steel reception desk. But before he got there, he heard his name from several feet away in a deep, Scottish-accented voice.

  “Priestley? You doaty bastard, that you?”

  A wide smile spread across Colt’s face as he turned, shaking his head at former SAS paratrooper and medic Ian MacAllister. He and Ian had bonded over old war stories and scotch, and had worked dozens of jobs together. They’d fallen out of touch after Colt had gotten fired.

  “You son of a bitch,” said Colt by way of greeting, and Ian clapped him on the shoulder, sending him a rare smile. “This is my…” He cleared his throat as he gestured toward Taylor. “This is Taylor Ross. She’s my client.” Fuck, she was so much more than that, but this wasn’t the time to get into it. Not when she was pale and quiet, her eyes still roving over the modern, sleek, open-concept office space.

  “Aye, we’ve met. How are you, Taylor?” he asked, and Colt couldn’t stop his eyes from darting between them, wondering briefly if Mac was the Virtus guy she’d dated.

  But before he could observe any further and let his jealousy flare up again, one of the glass office doors to the left of the space swung open, and Sean Owens stepped out, one eyebrow cocked as he approached them. His gaze flicked from Taylor to Colt and back again, and a frown creased his face. “I was wondering when I’d see you.” Owens, his hands on his hips as he came to a stop, towered over all of them by at least a couple of inches. He cut his eyes from Colt to Taylor again. “Don’t be mad at Sierra, but she told me what’s going on.”

  “She did?” Taylor asked, frowning slightly.

  Sean nodded. “She’s worried about you, and so am I.” He shot Colt a pointed glare.

  “We talk in your office?” asked Colt, tipping his head in the direction Sean had just come from. Taylor looked shaky, and he wanted her to sit down, maybe have some water. Wanted to shoulder everything he could for her, and he was suddenly glad that, although walking in here had meant swallowing his pride, he was able to do it for her. Sean nodded again, pushing a hand through his hair. Colt ground his teeth together when Sean put an arm around Taylor’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug, whispering something Colt couldn’t hear into her ear. Taylor just nodded and let Sean lead them into his office, Colt trailing a few feet behind. He tipped his chin at Ian as he walked away, trying to process everything. Being back in the Virtus offices. Taylor. The immediate situation at hand. The past. All of it was slamming together, making it impossible to tease any one part away from another.

  A row of offices, all walled in glass, filled the left-hand side of the bright, open space, and Sean led them to the one second from the back, ushering them inside. He didn’t say anything until he’d settled himself behind his desk, his fingers tented in front of him. He looked at Colt and then Taylor, who seemed slightly more relaxed.

  “So. Let’s hear it,” he said, meeting Colt’s stare.

  “She’s got a psycho stalker. We filed a restraining order and all of that, but he’s been arrested for trespassing at one of her concerts before. The guy’s been obsessed with her for a while now and is potentially dangerous. When he was arrested, he had a knife on him, and he’s shown a pattern of escalating behavior.

  “On top of that, her dad—who happens to be the president of the Grim Weavers—has been harassing her, trying to scare her into giving him money. He tried to convince her that there are some people after him and that they’d come after her if she didn’t help him pay them off. Not sure if he’s telling the truth or not, but until we know more, I’m not taking any fucking chances. I need backup on this.” He looked at Taylor and shot her a half smile. “That about sum it up?”

  She smiled, nodding. “Perfectly.”

  Sean studied them, an unreadable expression on his face. He glanced away, curling one of his hands into a fist. “I wish you’d told me about this sooner.” He sighed heavily before turning to Colt. “I’ll need all the intel you’ve got on this situation so I can brief the team. We’ll take it from here.”

  “Colt stays.” Taylor’s voice was low and quiet, but firm.

  “Did he tell you that he used to work here? That he got fired?” asked
Sean, a challenge gleaming in his eyes.

  “I did.” Colt crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Did you tell her why?”

  Colt shook his head, glancing down at the floor before meeting Taylor’s curious gaze. “He and I were assigned to guard this hip-hop star. The guy was an idiot, looking for trouble wherever he went. Thought it made him a badass or some shit. He’d already spent some time in prison on weapons and drug charges. Anyway, one night he started a fight in a nightclub and…” he shrugged “…things went sideways.”

  “Things went sideways?” Sean let out a sharp laugh. “Another couple of millimeters and I could’ve lost an eye, thanks to you. I had the situation under control. I was breaking up the fight, and then this idiot jumps in and escalates things. I took a beer bottle to the face because of him.”

  “You make it sound like I’m the one who stabbed you in the face.” Colt clenched his jaw, fighting back his rising temper.

  “Taylor, let us help you. You don’t need him.”

  “Enough!” Taylor stood, glaring at each of them. She wheeled on Sean. “Colt stays. I trust him, and that has to be enough for you.”

  Sean met Taylor’s gaze. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” He paused and sighed heavily. “If you trust him, I can work with that.”

  “That’s…thank you.”

  She sat back down and reached out, lacing her fingers through Colt’s.

  Well, well. Everything was out in the open now, wasn’t it? The corner of Colt’s mouth twitched up as he rubbed a thumb back and forth over Taylor’s knuckles.

  Sean blew out a breath as he pressed his thumb and index finger to his brow and then slowly shook his head. “I don’t even want to know how you two found each other.” He held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You know, Priestley, you could’ve gone to any security firm for backup. Why here?”

  Colt ground his teeth before answering. “Because you guys are the best. And I want the best for Taylor.” Her fingers tightened on his. “I’m still the primary on this, but I do need backup. Even with the restraining order, that psycho’s still out there, and I don’t feel like taking on the Grim Weavers by myself.”

  Slowly, Sean nodded, his expression completely unreadable. “You’re primary on this, but any situations that require a second or a third, call in, and I’ll send someone or come myself.” He shot Colt a pointed glance. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting your job back. This is temporary until we get Taylor sorted out. Understood?”

  Colt nodded, relief flooding him that he’d have help—the best help—keeping Taylor safe.

  Chapter 21

  You sure you want to play?” asked Colt, one eyebrow raised as he chalked the end of his pool cue. Taylor wrapped her fingers around her beer bottle, the glass cool and wet against her fingers. For the past several days she’d been cooped up at Colt’s, alternating between working on her music and fucking Colt until she couldn’t even remember her name. And while both of those activities were both fun and fulfilling, she was starting to feel a bit stir-crazy. She’d begged Colt for a night out, to a bar, a movie, anything, but he’d refused. She had, however, managed to talk him into a game of pool at the table in his loft.

  Taylor took a long pull on her beer and then nodded as she swallowed, smiling at him. “Yeah. I haven’t played in ages, but I used to be pretty good.”

  The corner of Colt’s mouth quirked up in that cocky half smile that made her want to drag him into the bedroom and fall to her knees in front of him.

  “Oh yeah? Why don’t we make it interesting, then?” he said.

  She took another sip of her beer and then brushed by him, grabbing a cue of her own. She glanced over her shoulder. “Interesting how?”

  He leaned back against the pool table and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “I win, I get to tie you up.”

  She leaned into him and dragged her lips over the shell of his ear, her stomach exploding with butterflies at the idea of being bound for him. “Fine. But if I win, you have to do a striptease for me. And I get to pick the music.”

  He pulled back, his green eyes glittering. “Deal. You want to break?”

  “Sure, but I’m not very good at it,” she lied. “Will you rack them for me?” She sipped her beer, watching, with pure, female appreciation, the way Colt’s forearms flexed as he racked the balls. She walked around to the other side of the table, cue in hand, and bent forward, loosening her grip on the cue as she lined up her shot. She glanced up at Colt through her lashes, biting her lip as she pulled her cue back. She took her shot, which just barely grazed the cue ball and sent it rolling slowly into the side rail. “Shit. Does that count?”

  Colt smiled at her, wolfish and hot. “Why don’t you let me break?” He repositioned the cue ball and broke smoothly, scattering the balls across the felt. As ZZ Top played on the stereo, Colt proceeded to sink ball after ball, while Taylor sunk a couple of balls but flubbed the majority of her shots.

  As Colt bent over the table, he shot her a glance, one eyebrow raised. “I thought you said you knew how to play,” he said just before he sunk an impressive bank shot.

  “I do! I just haven’t played in a while. Give me a round to shake the rust off.” As the game progressed, she let herself sink a few more shots, just so her losing wasn’t so obvious.

  Several minutes later, Colt sunk the eight ball, winning the game, and he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the pool table. Before she could say anything, he kissed her, slow and deep. “I’m going to make you so happy you lost,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her earlobe.

  “Mmm,” she purred, knowing he was 100 percent right about that. “Want to play again?”

  He chuckled, the deep sound rumbling over her skin. “Sure, gorgeous. Same stakes?”

  “How about double or nothing? If I win, I get to tie you up.” She felt his dick twitch against her hip and knew he was just as into that idea as she was.

  “Deal. You want me to break again?”

  “Nah. Lemme try again.” He stepped back and let her walk around to the end of the table. Instead of using the rack to organize the balls, she gathered them all at the end of the table and then used her forearms to rack them into a perfect triangle in seconds flat. She bent forward, lining up her cue with the cue ball and she glanced up, winking at Colt before she broke with a blistering crack, the balls shooting out across the felt. Colt stood still, staring at her with a half-pissed, half-turned-on expression on his face.

  She tipped her chin at him. “Hey, we gonna play? It’s your shot.”

  Grumbling under his breath, he took his shot, but within a few minutes, Taylor had sunk all of her balls. Only the eight ball was left, and she took a sip of her beer before leaning forward and lining up her shot. Her cue poised in her hands, she looked up at Colt, who was watching her with a mix of admiration, lust, and the tiniest bit of irritation.

  “I’m gonna make you so glad you lost,” she said, right before she sunk the eight ball and won the game.

  He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the doorbell, and he held up one finger in a “hold that thought” gesture. “That’s probably Carter. Sean said he’d be by to pick up the copies of my files I made for Virtus.”

  “Oh, well, I want to come say hello and thank you. I always liked Carter.”

  Colt studied her for a second, but with a tip of his head, he turned and left the room, Taylor following closely behind.

  Colt glanced through the peephole and frowned. “Who is it?”

  “Zack De Luca from Virtus. Carter had something come up with his kid, and he sent me to get the files,” called Zack through the door, his deep voice as familiar as ever. “Here’s my ID. I can wait while you call into the office to verify.”

  “Do you know him?”

  She froze as her heart plummeted like a stone into her stomach, her eyes glued to Colt’s front door as though, if she stared hard enough, she’d be able to see the man
on the other side. She managed to nod weakly. “He’s legit.”

  Yeah, she knew him. Zack, the man she’d been hoping to avoid. Zack, the man who’d sent her into this little tailspin to begin with.

  Tracking her gaze with an arched eyebrow, Colt turned to look at the door. He opened it, and Zack held out his hand to Colt. Colt shook it, glancing once again from Zack to Taylor. Zack zeroed his dark brown eyes in on her, rubbing a hand over his thick, dark brown hair. A layer of stubble clung to his jaw, framing his thick lips. “Hey, Taylor. It’s, uh, been a while.”

  Taylor glanced at Colt, whose eyes were bouncing back and forth between Zack and Taylor, and the line of Colt’s shoulders tightened slightly, his expression darkening almost imperceptibly. Taylor knew, just looking at him, that he’d put two and two together and figured out that Zack was the guy she’d dated.

  She straightened, and Colt clapped Zack on the shoulder, maybe a little harder than was necessary. “Colt Priestley. I don’t remember you from when I was at Virtus.” Colt crossed his arms over his chest, studying Zack.

  Zack rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and Taylor noticed the scrapes on his knuckles, probably from training. Zack’s dream was to be a professional mixed-martial-arts fighter, and he was actively pursuing it, training almost every day and fighting professionally in one of the bigger fight promotions in Southern California.

  “Oh, yeah. I think I was your replacement. After you…after you left.”

  “And you know Taylor.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Zack and I dated,” said Taylor, wanting to get it out in the open. To get the honesty over with. She forced herself to meet Zack’s eyes, just for a second, and then she looked down, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off of her jeans. “Hey.”

  Her mind flashed back to when she’d told Zack she was in love with him, and he’d told her that he cared about her, but he wasn’t in love with her. That he was sorry if she’d gotten the wrong idea, but they were just casual, having fun, not serious. That he wasn’t looking for anything permanent, or long-term. The subtext, of course, was that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, permanent or long-term with her. She’d handed him her heart, damaged and messed up as it was, offered it up to him, and he’d handed it back. It hadn’t been good enough.