by Lori Foster
He wouldn’t rock the boat by chasing a woman already taken—but he could indulge an occasional fantasy.
Speaking of fantasies, Cherry and Yvette trailed Vanity, both of them very sweet on the eyes. He watched them laughing and chatting as they shed coats and hung purses on the backs of chairs at a round table situated in the corner.
Leese grinned. Hell, they were all worthy of fantasies; Cherry with her lush little body and Yvette with her tempered sex appeal. But he’d never admit it to anyone.
Merissa came in late and joined them at the table. She was taller than the others, and considering she was Cannon’s little sis, as off-limits as a girl could get. There was also something going on between her and Armie, but damned if he could figure it out.
Just then Vanity looked up, and their gazes met. She waved him over.
Leese left the stool and ambled over to them. “Ladies.”
Merissa kicked out a chair. “Join us.”
He probably shouldn’t. “Not sure I fit into this particular tea party.” He glanced around but still didn’t see Cannon, Denver, Armie or Stack.
Cherry made chicken noises. “Be brave, Leese. We’re harmless, I promise.”
“Right. And next you have a bridge to sell me?”
Yvette laughed. “You see, Cherry? He knows you too well.”
Cherry threw a napkin at her friend.
Vanity gave him a long look. “Seriously. Sit and visit.” She grinned. “We’ll behave.”
“And there’s that bridge.” But Leese figured, why not? He spun around the offered chair and straddled it. It wasn’t easy, but he did his best not to stare at Vanity’s cleavage. “Is this a celebration or just a ladies’ night out?”
“The guys are joining us,” Yvette explained. “But they’re running late.”
Okay, then. If only to needle the others, he’d hang around. Leese raised a hand, and a waitress started in their direction. “First round of drinks is on me,” he told them all.
And for that, the ladies cheered him.
* * *
DISGUSTED THAT HIS trip to Whitney’s had been a waste of time, Stack pushed through the doors of Rowdy’s bar. As if they’d just arrived, Cannon and Armie stood off to the side with their jackets open but still on, talking to Denver, who nodded across the room with a scowl. When Stack got closer he followed the direction of their collective gazes—and realized they focused on the women all seated at a table with...Leese.
Staring, Stack watched Leese lean into the table to say something. He couldn’t hear him, not with the noise from the crowded bar, but Vanity and the other ladies all laughed.
Having suffered a lousy day already, Stack bristled. “That’s bullshit.”
Looking like a thundercloud, Denver said, “I know, right?”
“The sly bastard,” Armie agreed with menace.
Cannon laughed at all of them. “Relax. The ladies like him.”
That earned a lot of grunts and grumbles.
Still grinning, Cannon said, “From what I can tell, Leese doesn’t hit on any of them.”
“Oh, he’s hittin’,” Stack said. “He’s just slick about it.”
Cannon slapped him on the back. “Breathing or being cordial doesn’t count. Besides, I trust Leese.” He eyed each of them. “And I trust Yvette.”
Denver rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Same with Cherry.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier,” Stack added.
Armie kept mum. Stack understood. He’d only just given himself the right to be an idiot about Vanity; Armie was still trying to pretend he didn’t have a thing for Merissa.
“Before you update us,” Cannon said to Stack, “would you mind fetching Leese? He should be in on this since he was Whitney’s initial contact.”
Stack straightened. “Sure. Why not?” Leaving the others behind, he made his way across the bar. Spotting him before he reached her, Vanity left her seat to meet him halfway. Her silly, uncertain smile slipped into place, but she didn’t touch him.
Stack didn’t understand her sudden reserve, and he’d missed her enough to ignore it. He pulled her in and put his mouth to hers. Blocking out his frustration with Whitney and Phil and his sister’s personal situation, blocking out the noise of the bar and his gawking friends, he lost himself in kissing Vanity.
An elbow clipped his ribs, and Rowdy, the bar owner, said, “There’s a hotel down the block. Hell, I’ll loan you the eighty bucks. But take it off the floor.”
Easing up, Stack laughed. Vanity ducked her face against his chest and mumbled an apology.
Rowdy, a badass of the first order, grinned at her. “I blame him, honey, not you.”
“Thank you.”
After Rowdy walked on, Stack tipped up her chin. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“It’s okay. I got a little lost, myself.” Face hot, she stared into his eyes. “Is everyone looking?”
“No,” he lied. “And anyone who is, is just jealous.” Arm around her, he led her back to her table. Leese was already standing, but as they got close, Yvette, Cherry and Merissa all stood, too. Then they applauded him.
Covering her face, snickering, Vanity slumped into her seat.
Grin crooked, Stack took a bow.
The women made some pretty ribald comments to each other. Cherry pretended to swoon. Merissa patted a hand over her heart. Yvette just smiled.
Ready to get back on track, Stack said, “If you ladies will excuse us, I need to steal Leese.”
That got Vanity’s attention. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere. I have a few things to discuss with the guys, that’s all. I won’t be long.”
The women teased her about being impatient, which worked for him because he was impatient as hell to get her alone. He’d promised her a night out, and instead he was stuck dealing with Phil’s bullshit.
On their way to the others, Leese glanced at him, saw his black frown, and said, “I was trying not to look.”
Drawing a blank, Stack said, “What?”
Leese lifted a brow, then coughed. “Never mind.”
Stopping in the middle of the floor, Stack said darkly, “No. Tell me.”
Leese eyed him, then shrugged. “Fine. You went from joking to glaring, so I figured it was over me being with the ladies. Just wanted you to know, even though Vanity dolled up extra fine tonight with—” he coughed again when Stack stiffened “—that low top, I wasn’t looking.”
Stack folded his arms. “You said you were trying not to look, not that you hadn’t.”
Unrepentant, Leese grinned. “Yeah, well, I’m not the only one, so sue me.”
Stack twisted back to take another look. Huh. She had dolled up, and damn, she looked fine.
“You hadn’t noticed.” Leese shook his head. “Hard to believe.”
“To me, no matter what, she always looks hot.” The longer he knew her and the closer he got to her, the more beautiful she seemed to him. Stack turned to Leese. “And she’s mine.”
“She’s as clear on that as you are.”
Nice. That took some of the tension from Stack’s shoulders. “Good to know you’ve been listening.”
“To both of you.” Leese looked around the room at all the available ladies vying for attention. “Besides, I’m enjoying my freedom, and Vanity’s all about settling down.”
That was news to Stack. When had Vanity discussed it with Leese? He wanted to ask more, and he would—when he talked to Vanity. If she was thinking along those lines, well...he liked it.
In fact, it filled him with a certain sort of peace. Sleeping with Vanity each night, waking with her every morning, keeping her with him when he traveled, when he took part in family gatherings...it enticed him.
Settle down with Vanity? In his heart and mind he already had.
They joined Cannon and the others, and Stack quickly updated them on what he knew. Leese offered to make his own visit to Whitney, to see if he could catch her with Phil, and if not, maybe she’d divulge more to him. Armie and Denver would keep tabs on the two men who had jumped Stack, possibly press them for more answers.
And now that they could share descriptions of Phil and Whitney, Cannon insisted on making the rounds with his contacts on the street. It was possible someone would recognize one of them.
“You should still be honeymooning,” Denver told him.
With deep satisfaction, Cannon smiled. “We have a lifetime, and I’m pretty sure the honeymoon isn’t ever going to end.”
Good-natured jokes ensued, but nothing dented Cannon’s satisfaction. Stack had to hand it to him; Cannon made marriage look pretty damned appealing.
His gaze sought Vanity, and of course, seeing her meant he wanted her. Now. Tomorrow.
Always.
With everyone up to speed, the group dispersed, each guy going after his lady. Leese headed back to the table to reclaim his drink, but by then, only Merissa remained.
Telling himself to be patient, to give Vanity the night out that she deserved, Stack followed her to the pool tables. He could take a few hours, but he wasn’t sure he’d last any longer than that.
Tonight, as promised, he’d show her how much he cared. Given what he felt for her, it just might take all night.
* * *
LEESE KICKED BACK the rest of his drink, told Merissa to have fun, and headed for the john. He was in the hallway when he felt a hand touch his arm.
Turning, he realized Merissa had followed. She stood so close, he could see her individual eyelashes. Lifting a brow in query, he backed up a pace. “What’s up?”
Her small pink tongue came out to slick over her lips. “You in a hurry?”
Confusion pulled at his brows, and, yeah, he’d noticed her tongue. “Not really.” She blushed, and he got instantly wary. “Everything okay?”
With a lot of uncertainty, she stepped closer again.
Ah, hell. A dozen different thoughts scrambled. Here in the hallway it was quieter, cooler. More intimate.
“Rissy...” he started, trying to fight off the temptation. Not easy, because part of him wanted to take her hand and find a little privacy.
The better part, the more reasonable part, told him something more was going on. He’d spent plenty of time letting the other fighters know he understood the boundaries. With Denver and Cherry, he’d almost screwed up. But instead of hating him, they’d included him in the training. He was a better fighter for it.
Hopefully, too, a better man.
Being still new to the group, he didn’t want to do even the smallest thing to lose their trust.
Getting busy with Merissa would be far from small. It’d be gigantic.
He leaned back on the wall and smiled at her. “What’s going on, hon?”
For a single second she stared at him, then with a gigantic sigh she dropped against the wall beside him. Shoulders touching, she said, “You aren’t interested, right?”
He nudged her gently. “It’s the other way around.”
Her head lifted, and she turned to him. “What?”
“If you were actually interested in me, I’d be on it in a New York minute.”
Teasing, she said, “It?”
Leese’s gaze dipped over her. He popped his neck, determined not to waver, but she looked so damned cute. Tall, with every inch slim but shapely. “You,” he said, nodding at her face, then looking down. “Your body.”
She glanced down at herself, too.
“Sex,” he growled more deeply than he’d intended.
Her gaze shot back to his. “Really?”
Leese nodded. “But I’m not the guy you’re into.”
Her shoulders slumped. “The guy I’m into isn’t into me.”
“Just give him a little more time. I don’t know him well enough to say for sure, but seems to me he’s fighting too many battles right now.” Leese nudged her again. “Besides, I like you, and I like having you as a friend. If we did the nasty, everything would change.”
“The nasty,” she repeated with a grin.
Unable to resist, Leese leaned in and, voice low and husky, said near her ear, “Nasty, nice and smoldering hot.” He settled back a safe distance.
Rissy looked suitably impressed.
He nodded, fighting a grin. “Guaranteed.” Chucking her chin, he said, “But not for gal pals.”
After a big blink, she laughed and punched his shoulder. “You’re dangerous.”
“Got ya thinking, huh?” He winked, then made himself move away, to not take advantage. “You see any willing women even half as hot as you, spread the good word for me, okay?”
“Sure thing. And, Leese?”
“Yeah?”
She put her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. It was a unique thing, being hugged by a woman who matched his height. Leese gave in, indulging in one hug while breathing in her scent and thinking of what could be if he wasn’t determined to be scrupulous.
She released him with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He turned to leave—and almost plowed into Armie.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ARMIE STOOD THERE, his damned feet glued to the floor as Leese walked past and deliberately shouldered him. Under his breath, he muttered, “Make up your mind before it’s too late.”
What a joke. He could make up his mind a dozen times, but it wouldn’t change anything.
Merissa looked as frozen as he felt, then she forced a smile. “Lurking in hallways, Armie? Tsk.”
“I’m thinking lurking is better than whatever the fuck you had planned.”
She puffed up like an imminent explosion. With her long legs, she reached him in one stride. Angled in, her nose almost touching his, she snarled, “You don’t have the right to—”
Armie kissed her. Hell, he didn’t mean to. Actually, he’d meant not to.
But she had her mouth right there, all soft and sweet and within reach.
He didn’t stop at kissing her. No, once they touched, he all but lost it, backing her up to the wall and pressing his body to her body and dying just a little.
She was long and lithe, her thighs aligning with his, her breasts a soft cushion for his chest. She wiggled, and he went hard in a heartbeat.
From beside them, he heard, “What is it with you guys tonight? Is it a full moon or something?”
Shit. Armie took his tongue from her mouth, his hands from her body and, trying hard to regain his sanity, turned to face Rowdy. He would have shielded Rissy, but she was so tall there was no way to hide her.
One look at the amusement in Rowdy’s eyes and Armie ran a hand over his face. “Jesus. Sorry, man. I...” What could he say? She pushes all my buttons. Or I’ve wanted her too long to keep resisting. Maybe I need her so fucking bad I can’t stop thinking about it.
“I get it.” Rowdy made a point of not looking at Rissy. Armie wasn’t so lucky; he got the full force of Rowdy’s no-nonsense stare. “I suggest you find someplace more private.”
Wrong. That’d be the absolute worst thing Armie could do. But he nodded, and thankfully Rowdy left.
Keeping his back to Rissy, Armie tried to calm his galloping heart. Impossible. With his brain cells all focused on how she tasted, how it felt to finally feel the warmth of her body flush to his... Jesus.
“I liked that, Armie.”
Her small, quiet voice nearly took out his knees. She liked it. He shored up his weak resistance, and, both dreading it and needing it, he turned to face her.
Ah,
hell. Eyes soft and aroused, lips swollen, she watched him with unspoken invitation.
An invitation he couldn’t accept. “Fuck me,” he complained, one finger pointing at her. “Don’t do that!”
She blinked.
Armie took a step back, ran into someone and muttered an apology.
Rissy touched his arm. “I wasn’t—”
“You’re giving me those ‘I’m ready’ looks, but no way in hell are you ready. Not even close.”
She licked her lips and asked suggestively, “Ready for what?”
God. He tried not to, but his gaze went over her, and he breathed harder, imagining her naked, sweaty.
Under him.
“For any of the stuff I want to do to you.”
He didn’t miss her stiffened nipples pressing against her sweater. He wanted her in his mouth. He wanted to suck on her, maybe bite her lightly, make her squirm.
Make her come.
She whispered, “I can imagine what you’re thinking.”
“Don’t,” he warned.
She reached for him.
He quickly sidestepped. “I mean it, Rissy.” His eyes burned. His cock strained. Physical and emotional need pulsed hotly inside him. “Don’t imagine. Don’t think about it. Don’t fucking tempt me. Just...don’t.”
She staged a visual standoff, but Armie held his ground. He had to. He’d lost enough of himself to know it sucked. He wouldn’t take from her just so he could feel better.
Finally, her eyes getting glassy, she turned and hurried away through the bar.
Fucking felt like someone just pulled his heart from his chest. He wanted to punch the wall, but he had better control than that.
If he didn’t, he’d be on her already.
Time for him to go.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite made it to the door when Stack got a call—and all hell broke loose.
* * *
“I HAVE TO GO.”
Armie looked ragged, but he quickly pulled it together. “What can I do?”
That was the thing with good friends; they knew when to ask questions, and when to quietly back you up. “Tell the others for me. Whitney just called to say Phil was heading to my sister’s apartment. The prick is going to clean her out. He already took everything from the bank—”