Positively Criminal

by Mia Dymond

  Suddenly she wasn’t sure who was more tortured.

  Jake swallowed hard and questioned his sanity while he damn near crumbled the bones in his fingers with the force of his restraint. Who in his right mind purposely put themselves through this kind of agony? His cock stretched to remind him what a crazy idea this had been.

  He gave it a good, hard squeeze and then bit back another curse. Watching a lap dance was an arousing experience in itself, but the woman draped across his chest in this particular instance made it a thousand times better – or worse. Chemistry threatened to blow them both to smithereens.

  She arched her hips and slid up his length, the cotton of her skirt molding to the flesh between her legs. “Wouldn’t take much for you to dip right in,” she whispered against his neck.

  He lifted his hips and crammed his angry dick against her. “Two can play your game, honey.”

  Her smooth, sly grin made him ache even harder. “You can’t touch.”

  “No, but I know for a fact you’re cursing that rule as loud and long as I am.”

  “You think?”

  He moved his hands to cup the sides of her face and moved her ear close to his lips, daring someone to challenge him. “I know,” he whispered. “The top of my briefs are wet and I can smell your excitement.”

  Her hips rolled against him, caressing his whole length in a rhythm that made him absolutely crazy. So crazy that ripping her skimpy clothing from her body seemed like the only sane thing to do.

  “You’re absolutely right, Jake,” she whispered back. “I’m soaked under this blasted skirt.” One more drag of her hips made his dick weep. “And your tongue is the only thing that could possibly soothe my aching nipples.” Her lips brushed his earlobe in another teasing taunt. “Just one quick caress, Detective, around the peaks and then tucked between your lips in a good, hard pull.”

  With amazing, superhuman effort, he managed to shove his next question out of his mouth. “Would you come?”

  Her low chuckle crossed his eardrum. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Unable to stop it, a groan left the depths of his throat. Hell yeah, she’d orgasm; he’d wrap his lips around her and suck until she screamed for him to stop. Only, he wouldn’t let her off that easily. No, he’d drag the pebbled flesh further inside and use his teeth to tease each stiff peak into oblivion.

  A familiar hum vibrated his balls as she thrust her breasts closer to his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue wet his bottom lip. His dick pounded a plea. C’mon, baby, just a little closer.

  “Please.” Her tiny, barely-audible, whimpered request forced his hands back to her hips. His fingers shook in restraint against her skin. Her smooth, toned, pale skin, dampened by a faint film of moisture.

  His lips widened of their own accord. She lowered those full, tight breasts.

  “Shoot the damn camera,” she hissed under her breath.

  He released a hard breath, both relieved and pissed off that her twisted, ludicrous request brought him out of his drunken daze. Twisted? Yes. Ludicrous? Well, not so much.

  The obnoxious taunt of the party-crashing buzzer was the only thing that stopped him from following directions.

  He reached to flick the sparkling diamond nestled in her belly button while he fought like hell to keep from passing out. Sonuvabitch, this woman held his balls in the palm of her tiny, little hand — and she hadn’t even touched him. He was so screwed.

  He allowed his gaze to move up her body, further aroused by the sway of her breasts while she drew several deep breaths. He forced himself to focus upward and into her gorgeous blue eyes, more than satisfied to discover her flushed cheeks along the way.

  Words escaped him. Emotion flooded his mind. His heart pounded right along with his dick.

  “Wow,” she said finally.

  “Well put.”

  Her sweet smile made his cock twitch. “You broke, moneybags?”

  “Far from it.” He raised an eyebrow. “You up for another round?”

  She held his gaze for several moments until he began to wonder if she might just take him up on his offer. He swallowed hard. He’d never make it out alive. His balls were already so blue they were purple and his dick screamed in agony. But, if she insisted, he’d just have to take one for the team and endure. Damn. What a way to go.

  “No.” She placed her hands over his and squeezed before moving his to the chair. “I’m pretty sure someone would get hurt.”

  He grasped her elbow to steady her as she lifted a leg over his body to stand. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Like I could stop you.”

  He paused, thankfully distracted as she bent to retrieve her tank top. Only a masochist would ask his next question. “Are all your lap dances like this?” His blood pressure rose, fueled by the thought of her body draped over other men.

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  She regarded him silently for a second then crammed the garment over her head and pulled it over her torso. “I don’t work these rooms.”

  “No one argued when I requested you, Bri.”

  “I saw you and Jimmy on the camera.”

  “You did this for me?”

  Her curls touched the tops of her hips as she nodded. “This dance was a little different from the first, don’t you think?”

  He allowed himself to think about her question for a moment and damn near choked on realization. Although the first dance aroused him, her motives were crystal clear; she’d danced for his tip, careful to keep professional distance. This time – damn – this dance had been smoking hot, a full-fledged onslaught seduction.

  She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to one side. “How about a drink? Assuming you’re not on duty.”

  “I’m not, except alcohol and a hard-on don’t make good company.” He reached to fasten his jeans and shuffle his junk into some sort of near-comfortable position. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  He grabbed the wig and cup of water from the table and handed them to her. “Burn these.”

  “You wish.” She gave him a trademark eye roll. “I’ll meet you out front.”

  He turned the knob and opened the door, gesturing her into the hallway with his other hand. “With panties.”

  Her soft giggle traveled the length of his still rock-hard cock as she swayed away from him toward the dressing area. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Giovanni’s Coffee Bistro welcomed them inside with the strong, bitter smell of freshly-brewed coffee, the scent providing just the push Bri needed for encouragement. Her knees still threatened to buckle from the night’s earlier excitement and more than once she’d already considered trading coffee for sex.

  But there were things that first needed to be said.

  Once seated across the table from Jake in a secluded corner booth, Bri wrapped her hands around her cup as a deterrent to reach for him. As she lifted the cup to her lips and the warm liquid coated her tongue, she found herself at a complete loss for words. Her intended confession would go over about as well as waving a red flag in front of an angry bull, and there was absolutely no way she could outrun him.

  She moved her gaze from the top of her cup into his face in the off chance she might catch a hint of what he might be thinking. As usual, those deep, mysterious eyes scanned hers from left to right and back again, taking great care to disguise emotion. She swallowed a mouthful of liquid, gently returned the cup to the table, then reached into her skirt pocket.

  She slid the earlier folded bills across the surface. “You paid way too much for tonight’s entertainment.”

  Finally, a sly grin graced his features. “I beg to differ.”

  “I didn’t do that for money.”

  “I know that, Bri. What happened between us in that room was no act.” He chuckled as he pocketed the money. “And you surprised the hell out of me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t sure
my feelings for you were mutual.”

  With little effort, her lips split into a smile. Silly man. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  “I’ll never forget.”

  “I watched you from behind the curtain before I ever danced. I wondered why such a good looking, confident man would seek female attention at a gentlemen’s club. I was so relieved to discover you were part of a bachelor party. Something about you intrigued me, Jake, something so strong it scared me to death. I couldn’t stop watching you – wanting you.”

  “Yet, you were all business.”

  “Survival,” she admitted. “Besides you thought I was a stripper. You didn’t know my story.”

  “You danced to put yourself through school.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Research – payback for the hard-on you left me with.”

  “What else did you find on me?”

  “Nothing other than your relation to Mabel.”

  “And you didn’t tell her?”

  “Absolutely not – for your sake and mine. Your disguise had me fooled for a little while, until I saw you the second time at Mabel’s house. You told me I wouldn’t find you at the Velvet Glove again.” His gaze darn near burnt her. “But I did. Twice.”

  “I wasn’t planning to return.”

  “You’re a successful psychiatrist. You and Liberty speak all over the country. Make me understand, Bri.”

  “Business is slow?”

  “Try again, and while you’re at it, explain why there was a man at the clinic when I dropped you off after I released you from jail.”

  “I told him you’d find out,” she groaned. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “The truth,” he insisted, “from the beginning.”

  She took a deep breath and then prepared to spill her guts. “I’m profiling for the FBI. Three girls have disappeared from the Velvet Glove since last month and I’m trying to get a fix on a suspect. The man at my office is Agent In Charge Ryan Majors, my handler.”

  “You’re dancing to identify a suspect?”

  “I don’t dance, I choreograph for the others. I’m hanging around to determine what kind of man will most likely seek private attention from a dancer.”

  He ran both hands down the sides of his face. “Sonuvabitch.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “Yes, I do.” He released a hard breath. “I just can’t believe no one mentioned it to me. It’s my case!”

  “You know Ryan?”

  “Hell yes, I know Ryan. I speak to him almost daily.” He reached across the table and braided his fingers through hers. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions but I’m so damn glad I was wrong.” He stroked a thumb across the top of her knuckles. “Now you understand why I don’t want you there.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “And here I thought you were just being a jealous, territorial caveman.”

  “I am. I’m concerned for your safety but I’m a little bothered by other men enjoying your naked body.”

  “A little?”

  “A lot.”

  “I don’t fully undress.”

  “Close enough,” he growled. “How much longer are you assigned?”

  She squeezed her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “I’ve managed to figure out a few things but the whole process could take quite a bit more time.”

  He slid his cell phone from the depths of his pocket and handed it to her. “Call Agent Majors.”

  “Why?”

  “Call Agent Majors,” he repeated.

  “This is not the time for a pissing contest, Jake.”

  “Your choice, sweetness. Either you call him and play referee or I confront him alone.”

  “Caveman,” she mumbled as she accepted the phone and punched numbers.

  He grinned and took a long swallow of coffee.

  She shook her head at his cockiness, assaulted by another wave of testosterone when her phone call finally connected.

  “Majors.”

  “Ryan, this is Bri.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She narrowed her gaze on Jake. “I’ve hit a snag.”

  The agent chuckled. “Rawlings?”

  She frowned. “Did you give me a tail?”

  “Caller ID,” Jake and Ryan answered in unison.

  “Can you meet us at my office in ten minutes?”

  “On my way.”

  Bri released a heavy sigh as she handed the phone back to Jake. He stood and then grasped her elbow to pull her from the chair. “Agent Majors doesn’t drink coffee?”

  “I happen to know that a public confrontation between two Type A personalities would not be pretty.”

  “Type A, huh?”

  “A, for — “

  He raised an eyebrow and gave her another of those arrogant smirks while he nodded for her to exit.

  “Alpha,” she mumbled.

  Once he unlocked the truck door and she sat inside, he leaned in and placed a warm, soft kiss against her lips. “My alpha makes you hot.”

  Although she wanted to laugh in his face, she couldn’t do it. Damn her weakness – he was absolutely right. Jake’s alpha made every single nerve ending in her body tingle to the point of orgasm.

  And the cocky sucker knew it.

  “You are wearing panties, aren’t you?”

  She swallowed hard as his big body caged her inside the truck, blocking any view from the outside. “Guess.”

  His right hand left the top of the door and lifted the edge of her skirt. “Blue,” he whispered, “as dark and sexy as your eyes, Bri.”

  Her gaze dropped to his groin and the very eager erection raised against his pants. Her tongue swept her bottom lip in sheer anticipation. His finger drew lazy circles on the top of her thigh and she fought the urge to cram it between her legs. No doubt, those lazy circles he drew would make her scream in ecstasy.

  “Loud enough to shatter glass,” he whispered as her breath caught and a sexual shudder crossed her spine. “You don’t know how lucky you are that we’re in a public place.”

  She held his gaze and watched the iris of his eyes darken. Lucky? No, lucky would be her body smashed up against his muscled torso, both of them naked as the day they were born, Lady Luck was definitely a selfish bitch.

  “Yeah, too bad.” She raised an arm and traced his erection with one fingernail.

  “Oh hell,” he groaned, “you make me crazy.”

  She nearly screamed when he moved his hand from her thigh and pressed hers against his length. “Crazy enough to reschedule our meeting with Agent Majors?”

  “No. I have a few things to discuss with Agent Majors.”

  She moved her palm over him one more time and then sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He chuckled and took a step back. “Seatbelt.”

  She stretched the fabric across her chest and buckled it just as Jake entered the driver’s side and started the truck. “Behave, Detective Rawlings, he’s only doing his job.”

  “Believe me, I’m practicing great restraint.”

  “Seriously, I’m a professional and I can help.”

  “I don’t doubt your skills for one minute – hell, I’ve witnessed them firsthand.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I’ve seen you with people, Bri. You have this uncanny knack for reaching into someone’s tortured soul and stitching it right up. I’ve witnessed your unselfish compassion toward a bruised, battered woman so many times my heart has threatened to burst with respect. And then I’ve seen you challenge her sorry excuse for a husband and bring him to his knees with no more than three words and the beat of your long, sexy eyelashes.”

  She held her breath, amazed by his confession, warmed even more when he reached across the seat and grasped her hand.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate your other talent,” he finis
hed.

  “Thank you.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “This is important to me. I’ve bonded with every single one of those women. No one even hinted at moving on – I just don’t understand what happened.”

  “Majors claims all those girls are clean.”

  “They are, yet they share one common attribute. Every one of them is a victim of domestic violence.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and although each managed to escape her environment they still carry the psychological need for acceptance by a man. Dancing puts them in control, even if only for three minutes at a time.”

  A muscle ticked at the base of his jaw while he processed her analysis. She knew damn well he wouldn’t argue and if he even attempted, she’d remind him to consider his own experience.

  “What do you know about Melissa Winston?” he said finally.

  “She claimed she danced to pay for school.”

  “You didn’t believe her?”

  “I did, but I knew there was probably more to the story.”

  “And?”

  “There was.”

  “She fed a habit?”

  “No, Melissa was a straight arrow.”

  “So, no tuition and no drugs. What then?”

  “Confidential information.”

  He smirked as he turned the corner and parked at the curb in front of the clinic. “She signed a confidentiality agreement?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “She’s missing Bri, I need all the help you can give me.”

  “Melissa’s father verbally abused her until the day she disappeared.”

  “Do you think her uncle knew?”

  “No, Melissa claimed she told no one. In fact, he held such mind control over her I’m not sure she was totally convinced.”

  “She made excuses.”

  “They all do. Melissa just figured it was her duty to please her father and discounted the fact she couldn’t satisfy him. He criticized everything; her grades were never good enough, she dressed inappropriately, and she didn’t devote enough time to him.”

  “What about her mother?”

  “She passed away when Melissa was three.”

  “Any possibility you think she disappeared to escape?”