Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  He turned her around, so he could see her face. She didn’t resist. She gazed up at him, black-rimmed eyes fucking glazed and heavy.

  She was out of it. Completely fucked up.

  Anger welled inside him, his protective instincts slamming into high gear. He leaned in, getting close. “Darcey?”

  She blinked. Some of the fog cleared, and she grinned. “Joe.” She poked him clumsily in the chest. “It’s you.”

  Thank fuck. At least she recognized him. “You take anything, sweetheart?”

  She dropped her forehead to his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, mumbling something against him.

  Shit.

  He cupped her face gently and angled her chin up so he could see her. “Answer me, honey.”

  She frowned. “What’s…hang on… Why’re you here?”

  Screw this. Sliding his hands under her ass, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the club. No one stopped him. No one paid them any attention at all. He kept moving until he was out the door. Cool air washed over them as they hit the street, and as soon as he was away from the crowded entrance, he lowered her to her feet.

  She rubbed her eyes, smearing the black shit around them more. “Why’d the music stop?”

  Joe gritted his teeth. Anything could have happened to her. What the fuck was she thinking, getting this fucked up on her own? He took hold of her biceps and got in her face. “Did you take anything, Darcey?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Drugs, baby. You take any?”

  She shook her head. “Does weed count?”

  Jesus. “Anything else?”

  “Just Tequila.” She frowned, head tilting to the side. “What’re you doing here?” She looked around, and he guessed, finally realized she wasn’t in the club anymore. Her eyes went big, hands lifting in surrender. “Hey man, I wasn’t…didn’t follow you…or anything. I’m gonna… I need to go home now.” Then she started off down the street, swerving the fuck all over the place.

  He caught her hand before she fell and hurt herself. “Where do you live?” He’d gone to her old apartment before he started searching the bars and clubs tonight, the one he’d tailed her to when all the shit had gone down with Al, but she’d cleaned out.

  She tried to shove him away, even as she rattled off her address. It wasn’t far, only a couple blocks. Half carrying her, he took her home while she mumbled incoherently the whole damn way.

  The place was a dump, the security nonexistent. He hated everything about it. They made it to her door, and he found the key in her pocket. Opening up, he carried her inside and flicked on the light. It was one room and as shitty as the rest of the building. She wouldn’t be living like this if she was in good with her uncle—if she was actually making money from doing Al’s dirty work. The state of this place and the fact she was obviously struggling, confirmed what Don said…what she’d said about her reasons for doing what she had to him and Hugh.

  No. He couldn’t blame her for what she’d done, not anymore. Not when he knew exactly what it was like to be backed into a corner.

  To feel like there was no other way out.

  Her bed was in the corner. She’d made a sort of screen with bright colored fabric draped over an old tube steel clothing rack. He lay her down and took off her boots. Shit, in that sexy, little leather mini skirt and those torn fishnets, she was temptation, perfection. But so damn vulnerable she made his gut ache.

  What if he hadn’t come looking for her tonight?

  He couldn’t think about what could have happened. What the hell was going on in her head?

  He grabbed the glass off her bedside table and filled it with water for her, then dragged the quilt up at the end of her bed, covering her.

  “Joe?”

  He looked up at her, surprised she wasn’t already out cold. “Yeah?”

  She blinked several times, staring up at him. “What’s going on?”

  “I brought you home.” And he didn’t think he could bring himself to leave her, not like this, not in this place.

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes again. “Kissed you behind the bar,” she mumbled.

  He stilled, swallowing hard. “Yeah, Darcey, you kissed me.” His voice sounded deeper, rougher. It was low, and the wrong time to ask, but no way would she give him the truth when she was sober. “Al put you up to that, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head back and forth, dark hair spilling over the pillow. “Did it ‘cause I wanted to.” She stretched, flinging in an arm over her head. “‘Cause watching you, that’s all I could think about.” Her eyes opened again, and she stared right at him, lids heavy. “You kissed those other girls.” Her face screwed up. “Bitches.”

  Then she wrapped her arms around his head and tugged him down, shoving his face against her tits in some kind of Vulcan death grip. He reached back to untangle her arms, but she squeezed tighter. “Mmm, don’t go.”

  “Darce…”

  “Stay with me, Joe. Don’t wanna be by myself anymore.” Then she closed her eyes again and was out cold within seconds.

  Something twisted, curled tight inside him when she’d said those words—something he couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore, either. No way.

  Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere.

  Chapter Five

  Argh. Ouch. Tiny people were using Darcey’s eyeballs as bongo drums.

  Shit, someone needed to extinguish the sun, because it was searing into the backs of her eyelids like it was trying to melt them with its death ray and penetrate her brain. She obviously hadn’t drawn the curtains before she went out last night. She couldn’t go back to sleep with them like that and still hope to wake in a few hours feeling better than death warmed over. But to close them, she’d have to move, and that wasn’t happening, either. She was in a stalemate—with herself.

  With a groan, she tried to roll to her back, but something stopped her, something heavy pinning her arm to the mattress… She couldn’t move her fingers. Her hand was completely numb. She tried to yank it out, and when that failed, she used her other hand to investigate. It was prickly, and…warm…

  A loud snort broke through her hangover-dimmed brain.

  Her eyes popped open, and she hissed like a demented vampire against the harsh light.

  Squinting, she looked down.

  Oh God.

  She’d brought a guy home with her.

  His face was pressed against her boobs, so she couldn’t get a good look at him, and she couldn’t move with his heavy arm draped over her waist.

  Shit!

  She tried to shove him back, but his arm tightened, and then he pressed his face deeper into her cleavage and shook his head, giving her a kind of groggy motorboat.

  The guy could be a serial killer. For all she knew, she might not have brought him home at all. Maybe he broke in, maybe…

  She shoved again, but he didn’t budge. The panic building in her hit maximum levels, and she reacted. Grabbing for the only thing she could reach with her dead arm still pinned—her latest romance novel—she smacked him over the head, repeatedly. It was only a paperback, but it’d have to do.

  The guy grunted, cursed, and reared back. Darcey took advantage, and dropping the book, shoved his head away, giving her enough wiggle room to lift her knees. Then planting both feet against his massive body, she shoved him off the bed. He hit the wooden floor with a thud and another curse.

  Rolling to her knees, she grabbed the lamp from her side table and lifted it above her head. “Move, and your brain matter will be decorating my floor.”

  The guy gasped and wheezed. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck is the matter with you?”

  That voice.

  No.

  No freaking way.

  Darcey leaned over the edge of the bed and froze.

  Joe Colton lay on her floor, both hands clutching the family jewels, teeth clenched and scowling up at her. “What was that for?”

  She stared at him, in shock. “Why ar
e you…what are you…you’re in my…”

  “You wanna put the lamp down?”

  “Huh? Oh!” She lowered her lamp, but kept hold of it, just in case. She still didn’t know why he was here. Or how he’d gotten into her place.

  He noticed, of course, his gaze dipping to her hand and the way she still gripped it tight, and his scowl deepened.

  He sat up slowly and dragged himself back so he was leaning against the wall. “Wow. Way to thank a guy for saving your reckless ass. Braining me, slamming your feet into my balls, and threatening to smash my skull in. Nice.”

  She straightened. “Saved me?”

  He was no longer clutching his equipment, his forearms were resting on his bent knees, inked hands hanging loose. “Really?” He shook his head. “You don’t remember? Not any of it?”

  Her belly churned. “Remember what?”

  “Woman, that shit is fucked up.” His gaze moved over her. “Don’t get me wrong, you have your girls with you and you’re with people you trust, do what the fuck you want, but on your own…”

  “What?” Her voice was louder now, panicked.

  “You were smashed. Completely out of it. Anything could have happened to you. I walked right up to you, and you were rubbing up on me without even knowing who I was. What if I was a bad guy, Darcey? What if someone had gotten to you before me? They could’ve hurt you.” He climbed to his feet. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Her face heated. She knew exactly what she’d been thinking last night. Her goal had been simple—forget Joe Colton—whatever it took. She didn’t usually drink, not like last night, and she hadn’t smoked pot since she was in high school. But last night, she’d been hurting. She missed Noah. She’d screwed everything up with Joe. Instead of helping him, she’d made things worse. Her only thought had been to numb the pain, to forget. For one night, none of it existed. She was just like any other twenty-four-year-old girl out for a good time.

  Carefree.

  Looked like she’d screwed that up, as well.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, clutching her head when those tiny fuckers started their bongo solo again, and headed to her fridge to grab some juice and her bottle of Tylenol out of the cabinet. She wasn’t in any condition to have this conversation, and truth be told, she was feeling kind of vulnerable. Why the hell did he care, anyway?

  Dammit, she was sick of being bossed around, manipulated, answering to assholes who thought they knew better. People who thought she wasn’t good enough because of her past. Not good enough to raise her brother. Not good enough for more than being some asshole’s puppet. And not good enough for the arrogant prick in front of her. She was sick of his rancor. He was no damn better than her. She’d done what she had to, and she’d do it again. She’d do anything for Noah. Anything. Yeah, Joe more than likely saved her from a bad situation, but she didn’t care, not when she was too busy feeling pissed off. Pissed that she’d put herself in that spot to begin with and pissed that she’d let a man lay her low. A man who hated her guts.

  She spun to face him. “Don’t you dare stand there and judge me.” She straightened her spine. “And what I think or don’t think is none of your damn business. I didn’t ask you to save me.” Shit, or maybe she had? She was never drinking again.

  Joe crossed his arms over his wide chest, his forearms flexing. “I’ve decided to make it my business.” He shook his head. “And I’m the last damn person to judge anyone.”

  What? This conversation was going places her addled, alcohol soaked brain wasn’t in any condition to go. Taking a couple deep breaths, she forced herself to calm the hell down. She wanted him to go. She needed him to go. He was too tempting, too gorgeous, and yummy, and sexy. It hurt to look at him. Her only option was to eat humble pie, pride be damned. If it got him to leave, it’d be more than worth it.

  She leaned back, resting her hands on the small counter behind her. Joe’s gaze instantly dropped to her boobs, his nostrils flaring.

  Yep, he had to go before she climbed his massive body, latched on, and never let him go. “Look, um…I don’t know that happened last night. I don’t… usually do shit like that.” God, this was humiliating, and then a horrifying thought hit. She must have hunted him down last night. She didn’t even remember leaving the club, but for him to be here, she’d obviously gone looking for him again. “I don’t know what I was thinking last night. I promised to leave you alone. So I’m sorry I crashed your good time or whatever. It won’t happen again.” She looked away, got busy pouring a glass of juice.

  But he didn’t leave. No, he just stood there. She could feel his gaze boring into her. Her face was hot, but she forced herself to woman the hell up and look at him again. He was watching her closely, that frown front and center.

  “So ah…yeah…thanks for getting me home and making sure I was okay. That was…it was real cool of you. But you can go now. I’m fine.”

  She was ashamed to admit she took their last few seconds together to eat up the sight of him. Damn, he was tall, and big, and that sexy ink. Her belly fluttered and did this flippy thing that had her heart racing faster. She’d probably never see him again after this. The idea caused an uncomfortable sensation in the center of her chest.

  He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms again. “Nah, I’m not going anywhere.”

  What now? “I beg your pardon?”

  “You and me, we’ve got shit to talk about. I’m not going anywhere until we do.” He aimed his brown eyes at her juice. “And I’ll have one of those, thanks.”

  She sucked in a breath. “We have nothing to talk about.”

  He pushed away from the wall and walked right up to her. He took her juice from her hand, tipped his head back, his throat working in an intriguing way as he downed the whole glass. Then he put it on the counter behind her, but didn’t step back—he stayed right where he was. Close. Too damn close. She could feel the heat of his body, see the contours of his six-pack through his snug T-shirt. Her breathing went a little funny.

  “How about we start with an easy one? Why did you help me with the Porsche?”

  She crossed her arms, anything to create a barrier between them. He was staring at her again, those brown eyes penetrating her retinas, trying force entry, to uncover all her secrets.

  “I told you, I felt bad for what I did. I wanted to make amends—at least in some small way—for getting you into this mess. I wanted to help you.” She had to fight not to cringe. She hated exposing herself like this.

  “Why would you go against your own family, your uncle, for me? Why, Darcey? Or did you just suddenly grow a conscience?”

  There was a slight growl to his voice, like he was trying to keep a lid on his anger. Well, she was sick of his accusations, warranted or not.

  Her own temper flared. “I can go against Al because I hate him with everything in me. He’s not my family. My mother married his brother seven years ago, that’s where the connection begins and ends.”

  “He forced you to mess with us.” It wasn’t a question.

  God. Did he actually believe her? She nodded. That’s all she could manage right then.

  His eyes flared. “What does he have over you?”

  She slid along the counter, getting the distance she needed, and moved to the other side of the room. “Again, not your business.”

  His gaze went hard, then his brows lifted, like a freaking light bulb went off in his head. “You’ve been taking my back.”

  Shit. She forced a snort. “You’re crazy.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve been trying to help me, and not just with the Porsche. Isn’t that right?”

  “This conversation is over.”

  He started across the room toward her.

  She backed up. “You need to go.”

  “That’s why you’re always there when I’m boosting, in the shadows. You’ve been watching out for me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
>
  “Why you’re always there every damn time I turn my head.”

  “No…”

  He closed the gap between them, and her back hit the wall. “But it’s not just that, is it, Darcey? You said it yourself…everything you’ve done since setting us up was on you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Your words, baby.”

  Her hands had somehow found their way to his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You came to me in that bar. You flirted, made me laugh when nothing had made me laugh in fucking weeks. Made me so fucking hard I could barely think straight…then you led me down that alley.”

  He was unraveling her word by word, exposing her in a way she didn’t know how to deal with. She tried to push him back, but he was an unmovable object. “Stop…”

  “You kissed me, Darcey.”

  “Joe…”

  “And it was all you.” His nostrils flared. “It had nothing to do with Al, nothing to do with the job he had you doing. It was all you. You wanted to kiss me, and, baby, the way you were grinding on me, you wanted a fuck of a lot more than that.”

  “Please…”

  “Why’d you run? Why did you pull away from me?” One of his hands went to the wall by her head, the other to her hip, his strong fingers fisting the shirt at her waist. “I need to know. It’s been messing with me for weeks. Late at night, lying in the dark, it plays in my head. It’s all I can fucking think about.”

  Oh God.

  “Tell me…”

  “No…I…”

  “Tell. Me.”

  “Joe…”

  “Now. Darcey.”

  “There was too much at stake!” The words exploded from her mouth.

  He stilled. “What was at stake, sweetheart?”

  “Too much to risk on a night with you.” She stared up at him, her heart hammering. “Yes, I’ve been trying to help you. Yes, I’ve been losing sleep over destroying your life…and yes…I wanted you. But it was a mistake. Taking you behind that bar—”

  She didn’t get to finish, not that she knew what else she could say, because his mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. She considered shoving him off for all of two seconds, but she couldn't do it. His lips felt so good. He tasted so damn good, and instead, she just—melted. Dissolved into a goddamn puddle when his mouth opened over hers and his tongue swept inside. She started shaking when he hauled her closer, when he lifted her off the floor, spun around, and planted her on the bed.