by Mia Dymond
“Honey,” he groaned as her hips ground against his aching erection, “baby, wait.” He moved his hands to cup her face in both hands, separated their lips, and then stroked the soft skin of her cheeks with both thumbs. “I’m on duty.”
“Sorry,” she moaned while her fingers continued to play at the base of his neck.
“I’m not.” He placed another long peck on her lips. “We’ll just have to finish this later.”
She released a sigh and stepped out of his embrace. “That wasn’t some sort of ploy to get information, was it?”
The breath left his lungs in a whoosh, as if he’d been sucker punched. “Do you honestly believe that?”
She giggled and winked. “If I did, Detective Rawlings, I never would have allowed that to happen.”
He chuckled under his breath as he turned and retrieved her keys. As soon as her skin met his in a simple gesture such as passing keys, electricity traveled over every nerve in his body, headed straight for his dick. She could allow all she wanted; neither one of them could’ve stopped that freight train of desire if they tried.
“In.” He opened the car door, motioned her behind the steering wheel, and then leaned in once she was seated.
The clink of the belt echoed in the still-sexually charged spaced between them. With great restraint, he pecked her lips one last time. “I’ll drive by later to make sure you made it home.”
“I’m sure you will,” she mumbled.
“And I might be persuaded to tuck you in.”
Her electric blue gaze held his for several seconds before she finally turned the key to start the engine. “You and I both know it wouldn’t take much persuasion.”
He simply grinned while he closed the door and then watched her back up and drive out of the parking lot. He should’ve been encouraged when her left blinker flashed and she pulled onto the main street, but deep in his gut he knew better – she wasn’t headed home.
Years of training pushed him to follow but instinct made him stay put. He’d let her go, let her think she’d pulled one over on him. He smirked as he climbed into his cruiser and headed back to the station to finish his shift. Bri wasn’t half as sneaky as she thought; he knew exactly where he’d find her. He’d give her a few hours then burst her bubble.
When Jake entered the station, Mace sat at his own desk, feet up, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it, wearing his usual shit-eating grin.
Jake shook his head. “You saw Dara. Or did you read a few chapters?”
“Funny.” Mace tossed the ball to him and he easily snatched it from the air with one hand. “I talked to her.”
“And?”
“I need to work on her.”
“So I won the bet.” Jake held out his empty hand. “Pay up, sucker.”
“Not so fast.” Mace’s feet hit the floor and he sat up. “I was just getting her warmed up.”
Jake sat at his desk. “Neither of them will tell us anything they don’t want us to know.”
“I have the solution.” Mace chuckled. “We get them to talk without them realizing what they’ve said.”
Jake glared at his partner. WTF? Mace made about as much sense as a woman. “I have no idea what the hell you just said, but I do know you don’t have any Intel. Wanna double our bet?”
“You’re on.” Mace gave a smooth smile. “It’s only a matter of time before Dara spills.”
Jake finally tossed the ball back to Mace. “I’ve got a ton of paperwork.”
“So, did you talk to Bri?” Mace returned the ball.
“I found her at the Sunlight Hotel.”
“Why?”
“She claims she was relocating a patient.”
“You don’t believe that explanation?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you just go home with her?”
“She didn’t go home.”
“You followed her?”
“No.”
“Gut feeling?”
“Yeah.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
“First, I’m gonna finish up my paperwork —”
“Done.” Mace handed him a stack of paper.
“You wrote my reports?”
“Since I was writing mine, I figured what the hell? Something told me you might want to leave early tonight.”
“Thanks, man.” Jake stood and headed for the door. “And yes, I plan to make this a memorable evening.”
He heard Mace snicker as he headed out of the station. Once seated in his own truck, he glanced at his watch. Party time.
Jake drove by Bri’s office at an easy speed, only to assure himself he was absolutely correct in his assumption that she hadn’t gone home from the hotel. When her car was absent from the lot, he turned the left corner to cruise by Mabel’s house. Again, her black BMW was nowhere in sight.
His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he rounded the next corner and headed for the outskirts of Primrose, his foot heavier on the accelerator. Although he fully expected to have to pay her a visit, he wasn’t in the least bit happy about it.
Damn. Complex women were a bitch. He drove faster toward his destination contemplating his next move, only to scoff at his conclusion. He could hogtie her, spank her hot little ass, or put her in handcuffs – and every single one of those options gave him an incredible hard-on.
CHAPTER FIVE
From her usual seat outside the dressing rooms, Bri glanced at the digital clock hung directly over the doorway and heaved an aggravated sigh. Three hours ago, she’d come to the Glove to escape Jake’s watchful eye; the hours had only made her want him more. What was it about his I-never-take-no-for-an-answer attitude that made her want to strip naked and have her wicked way with him?
Desperate to change her line of thinking, she stood and glanced at the woman draped over the pole on the catwalk who gyrated her body in time to the music. Men lined the bar, waving paper money in various increments in an attempt to grab her attention for a few moments of personal entertainment. Bri smiled, warmed by the thought that she’d gotten through to Andrea. A few more weeks and the other woman would have the resources she needed to move on. After several nights of armchair therapy, she’d finally realized her self worth and her time at the Glove would help her meet some well-deserved substantial goals.
Bri walked past the stage and gave Andrea an encouraging nod before she climbed the stairs to the security office then knocked softly on the door. “Hey, Brian.” She gave the head of security a smile as he opened it and gestured her inside. She padded across the plush burgundy carpet and took an extra chair in front of the rows of cameras. “I’m out.”
The olive-skinned man gave her a dazzling grin as he took a seat. “You’ve broken enough hearts for one night, huh?”
“Hardly. My job is to teach them to do that. The place was packed tonight.”
“Two for one alcohol tends to make that happen.” He leaned forward and flipped a switch near one of the several monitors. Soon, the stage appeared in full view, zoomed in to capture each and every sensual movement of the woman who danced there. “For a newbie, Andrea has them wrapped around her finger.” He whistled low under his breath as she slung her top to the side of the stage. “Girl’s got major skill.”
Bri glanced down into his lap, his regulation black slacks tented at the fly. “Obviously you appreciate that sort of thing.”
“We lock the door for several reasons.” He had the decency to blush while he grinned. “I love my job.”
“That doesn’t happen when I dance, does it?”
With his gaze still trained on the screen, Brian had the decency not to answer and she took the opportunity to change the subject. “Have you seen Sunny today?”
“She pulled a no-show.”
“Really? Did you call her?”
“Jimmy talked to her sister. Apparently, Sunny took early retirement.”
Bri pushed a cautious wave of relief to the side. Although she was
n’t entirely encouraged by Sunny’s abrupt disappearance, she was thankful the younger woman decided to make the change.
“I didn’t realize Sunny had a sister.”
“Jimmy called her just a few hours ago.”
“He didn’t talk to Sunny?”
“Apparently not. Her sister did all the talking.”
Still not comfortable with Brian’s explanation, she was forced to change her line of thinking when he flipped a few more switches. “Big spender.”
“Who?”
He tapped a monitor. “Dude’s got a fist full of hundreds and Jimmy’s wearing a shit-eating grin.”
As soon as she moved her gaze to the screen, her body went on full alert while her heart pounded the beat of a marching bass drum and sweat dampened her palms. “What room are you watching?”
“The Platinum.”
In vivid color, Jimmy gave the customer a tight, very enthusiastic handshake before exiting the room. Her gaze never wavered – she couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She knew from experience that the customer waving hundred dollar bills knew exactly how to get what he wanted.
“One of yours?”
“No.” She worked very hard to remain calm as the man on the monitor unbuttoned the first three buttons of his light blue dress shirt and then went to work on the buttons of his cuffs. Soon, the sight of smooth, tanned, muscled forearms made her skin tingle. Moisture gathered between her legs.
Seconds later, she jumped when the doorknob jiggled and Jimmy entered.
“Hey Bri, I was looking for you.”
“I was just about to leave.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
Brian snickered beside her and impulse made her smack the back of his head with her open palm.
“Damn,” he mumbled.
Jimmy continued, obviously undeterred by Brian’s pain. “I need you for a lap dance in the Platinum room.”
“We had a deal, that’s not my area.”
“Just this once? He’s made an offer I don’t want to refuse.”
She glanced back at the screen at the man now casually seated in the soft easy chair, his long legs stretched in front of him, easily content as if he had absolutely no intention of being denied.
She fingered a false curl on her shoulder. “What about Andrea? She’s blonde.”
“Nope. He doesn’t want blonde, he wants red.”
“I don’t dance red anymore.”
“C’mon, Bri, if nothing else consider it a personal favor. I have a feeling this guy could bring major business.”
“He’s a cop.”
Jimmy’s face tightened. “I know that, but how do you?”
“He’s a repeat customer.”
Jimmy simply shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s his ass if he’s on duty.”
She released a heavy sigh and held out her hand, palm up. “Payment in advance.”
“That’s my girl.” Jimmy gave her a wide smile and graced her palm with several hundred dollar bills.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled as she rose and headed out the door.
Just a few steps down the hallway, she paused outside another door and drew in several deep breaths. She ran her hands down the artificial curls on her head then smoothed her short skirt, fighting herself the whole time.
You’ve wanted another chance.
Yes, but the circumstances have changed.
It’s just a dance.
No, it’s not, you know it’s not – it’s so much more.
She shook her head to clear the useless argument, took another long deep breath and opened the door.
The man met her gaze as soon as she entered the room. Her thighs quivered. Her knees threatened to buckle.
Slowly, she closed the door and braced one hip against it in an effort to remain upright. Damn his smoky, bedroom eyes.
“I still think you’re following me, Detective Rawlings.”
“Nope. I paid for this room.”
“I just finished my shift.”
“Well now, that’s too bad. I specifically paid for this room with the promise of a gorgeous red-headed vixen with killer blue eyes who has a thing for big, bad cops with shiny handcuffs.”
“Hmmmm.” She tapped her lips with one finger. “If I see her, I’ll let her know.”
“Take off the wig, Bri.”
She raised an eyebrow and attempted to appear amused by his demand. “Say please.”
“Do it.”
She flipped her head forward, freed her natural red tresses from beneath the hairpiece, and then tossed the mane backward until curls spiraled down her back. “Better?”
He nodded. “Ditch the green lenses.”
“Bossy costs extra.” She tossed the wig onto a nearby table.
“I paid double.”
His arrogance would’ve soaked her panties, if she wore any. Instead, the insides of her thighs dampened beneath her skirt while she almost poked out an eye removing her contacts.
Once the lenses floated in a cup of water next to the hairpiece, she crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed a groan when she grazed her sensitive nipples.
“This is going to be an interesting lap dance,” he mumbled.
“Why?”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart, we’re both locked and loaded here.”
She ignored his entirely true observation, not convinced he was ready to proceed. “You were on duty three hours ago.”
“My shift ended at seven o’clock.”
She paused for a split second, using every psychological trick she could muster to attempt to call his bluff. Yet, the sparkle in the depths of his eyes told her he wasn’t bluffing. Time for Plan B – giving the man exactly what he wanted. “You realize the action in this room is monitored, don’t you?
“Don’t really care.”
“I do.” She gestured with her head to a red button on the wall. “My feet don’t move until you promise to behave – security does not need to see anything other than a lap dance.”
With a grin, he stretched out his legs in front of him and popped the top button of his jeans. “What’s underneath the skirt?”
“Promise, Detective.”
“Relax, Bri, I know the rules. You slide that sexy little body all over me while I sweat bullets — hardly seems fair.”
She stepped next to the wall, her finger hovering over the button. “Your decision.”
“Do it,” he hissed.
Without hesitation, she pressed the button. The buzzer sounded. The door clicked closed, signaling the security guard to take his post just outside.
She moved back in front of him just as the hard, heavy metal music began to play and gave him a smirk. “No refunds.”
“Not a chance.” She swore she heard the devil cackle in the depth of her mind as he spoke. “No doubt in my mind I’ll get every penny’s worth.”
Bri lifted her hair from her neck, straddled his legs, and then swiveled her hips to the beat. First to the left, back around to the right, and then in tiny little circles right over the incredibly mouthwateringly large bulge between his legs. Slowly, she eased downward until two millimeters would allow her to sit in his lap atop the wild stallion that beckoned her to ride.
Her flesh tingled when he rested his hands on the bare skin of her hips and he buried his thumbs under the hem of her tank top. “Off.”
She raised an eyebrow at his attempt to push the no-touching rule, tempted to call a stop to this whole crazy, sexy, dangerously-arousing idea. One more push of the button would stop the music and bring her back into her right mind. Suddenly her lips split into a satisfied grin and she straightened. Insanity had its own agenda.
With her legs squeezed against his, she pried his fingers from her top and then lifted it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. She gave him a wink and then lifted first one leg and then the other over his until she stood with her back to him.
Very slowly she backed up until she str
addled his thighs and then lowered her chest until it rested on his knees.
A very tortured breath left his lips. “Shit, Bri, you’re bare.”
She bit her bottom lip, lifted her head, and winked over her shoulder as she pumped her hips up and then down. “I told you, I finished my shift. I was headed home.”
“Without panties?”
She lowered her hips and dragged her now dampened flesh across his thighs, never losing eye contact. “I only wear the g-string when I dance on stage.”
He closed his eyes and forced his head back against the padded headrest. His stomach muscles clenched against her midsection. His knuckles whitened against the chair’s arms.
She moved her head back around to check the position of the camera, silently hoping for once that the machine had malfunctioned. The red light continued to blink, almost as if it scolded her for taking things so far. With an aggravated sigh she eased from his lap and turned to face him. “Are you packing?”
He released a tortured laugh, almost a curse. “I’m assuming you mean my weapon and yes, always.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I figure you’re a good enough shot to cripple the camera.”
His full, rich laugh warmed her heated skin even further. “The watchdog at the door wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass.”
She eased her legs over him again. “And we sure wouldn’t want anything to happen to your fine, tight ass.”
His gaze nearly burnt her as she braced her hands on each side of his shoulders and positioned her swollen breasts just over his mouth. Her hips resumed the circular motion over his groin.
His gaze fell to her chest. A low growl left his throat.
Now empowered by his needy response, she eased her chest lower until her stiff nipples grazed his bottom lip. “See something you like, Detective Rawlings?” She purposely moved her tongue across the outer shell of his right ear as she issued a whispered taunt. “It’s a shame you can’t touch.”
She moved her hips against him again, this time strengthening the motion to allow her breasts to sway just out of his tongue’s reach. He tilted his head to one side then reached between them to lower his zipper.