by Lisa Sanchez
I fought the urge to stand at attention and salute him shouting, “Aye aye, Captain!” There was no way I was going to work in a bar for the rest of my days, but I wasn’t about to burst his bubble. I kept my trap shut and got busy.
An hour into my shift, I delivered a huge tray of beer and Jaeger shots to a table of sorority girls who were already several drinks in and annihilated. I’d just set down my tray when a warm, familiar tingle shot up the length of my spine. Quinn.
I whirled around to see him walking toward me, accompanied by the same pair of perfect, size double zero legs that sat with him during our English class that morning. My heart sank to the floor. Quinn obviously liked his women pencil thin.
“Hello there, Ryann.” His thick Irish accent was music to my ears. Turning to face Legs, he pointed toward the same table he’d sat at the previous evening and said, “Sit.” Legs obeyed wordlessly as if she had no will of her own.
Quinn turned to face me once again and let loose the full force of his glorious smile. “So, Ryann, how are you this evening?”
What? What the hell is he up to?
I wasn’t into playing games. Especially not with a gorgeous Casanova, regardless of how blue his eyes were, or how good his ass looked in his jeans.
Gah. Be strong, Ryann. You are not attracted to this man.
I narrowed my eyes as I drank him in. “Why are you here?”
He pulled a brown bag from his back pocket and flashed me a toothy grin. “I was in the mood for some Ripple. If you’ve got the booze, I’ve got the bag.” Those gorgeous baby blues of his shone bright with humor.
I choked back a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I found him funny. “Have a seat then. What can I get you and your mindless pair of legs?”
Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that. Get a grip, Ryann.
“Mindless pair of legs, eh?” He chuckled, his eyebrows raised in apparent concern for the poor customer service I provided.
Needing my job, I backpedaled. “Look, I’m sorry. That was out of line. When I’m around you, I get flustered. It’s no excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. Now, can I get you something to drink?” I hated my stammering, and flushed red, painfully embarrassed by the verbal diarrhea spewing from my mouth.
He dismissed me with a wave. “Don’t go worryin’ about it. We’re cool. Give me the same as yesterday, please.”
Did he just say please? Yesterday he comments on my butt and acts like a total pig, and today he’s friendly and polite. Who the hell is this guy?
I gave him a nod, went about taking orders for the rest of my section, and headed over to the bar, where Gabriel was darting back and forth, filling orders.
Suddenly self-conscious, I craned my neck, looking into the mirror behind the bar, and straightened my hair. Both of the women Quinn had come in with had long, flowing hair and zero body fat. I glanced down at my legs. “I wonder if he likes…” I paused, inwardly cursing myself. “Oh my God. Idiot.” I shook my head, disgusted with myself for worrying over whether Mr. Sex God Extraordinaire may or may not like my thunder thighs.
Grabbing my tray full of drinks, I hotfooted it over to my section, determined to concentrate on my job and nothing else. “Here you go.” I reached out, placing the tall pint of Guinness atop a drink napkin on the table before him. His hand brushed mine as he went for his drink.
I gasped. The same electric shock I felt before shot up my arm, through my chest, and straight down to my overexcited hoo-hah. My breath caught in my chest as I stared at him, eyes wide.
He broke contact, pulling his arm back, and placed his hands in his lap. “Thank you, Ryann.” His lips broke into a glorious smile.
I stood frozen, struck mute by the effect of his touch and the sheer beauty of his smile. My kitty? Yeah…it was begging for release. Who was this guy? No. Scratch that. What was this guy? I gaped at him.
It wasn’t until a customer at a nearby table hollered at me that I was able to tear myself from his mesmerizing presence. I went about my work, painfully aroused I might add, and watched from the corner of my eye as he downed his Guinness in one long gulp. He set his glass down and then once again placed both hands on either side of his nameless date’s face. After staring into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity, he gave her a peck on the cheek, tossed a wad of cash onto the table and got up from his seat, strolling past me once again, heading for the exit.
“See ya later, love.” He rewarded me with a toothy grin, eyes gleaming.
“What? Wait,” I called out to him. “What about your friend? Are you just going to leave her there?” I glanced over to see Legs staring off into space, completely unaware of her surroundings. “Is she all right?” I didn’t know why I was so concerned with Quinn and his dazed companion, but I couldn’t let it go.
He waved me off with a look that clearly showed he wasn’t worried in the least. “Don’t worry about her, lass. She’ll be just fine.”
I wasn’t inclined to agree with him and pressed further. “What did you do to her?”
He shrugged. “I let her off easy. Nothing more than that. Later.” He pressed two fingers to his lips and made a gesture of throwing me a kiss before disappearing into the crowd once more.
Let her off easy? Putting her into a trance and leaving her alone is letting her off easy?
Suddenly, Legs stood up, looking extremely out of sorts, and made a beeline for the exit.
I couldn’t help myself and hollered in her direction. “Excuse me? Where did your friend go? You know, the guy you came in with?”
Rattled by my question, Legs gave me a look that suggested I was crazy. “Um…I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t remember coming here with anyone.” Her high-pitched voice wavered.
Uh-huh…
I continued grilling her despite my better judgment. “What about English Lit this morning? Do you remember the guy you were sitting with?”
“Uh…I don’t remember going to class this morning. Leave me alone.” She glared at me and fled the bar.
I stared after her, frustrated and bewildered by the entire situation. What the hell was going on, why did I care, and why, oh why, did I not carry a pocket rocket in my purse? My girlie bits were still on fire, screaming for release after Mr. Sex God’s orgasmic touch.
Something was up with Quinn. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I tried to figure him out. The past two days he’d managed to dazzle a pair of women into forgetting his very existence, leaving them alone and confused in the process. Quinn was an enigma, beautiful, sexy, and infuriating all at the same time, and I was completely enthralled by him.
With a sigh, I went about my work. The remainder of my shift crawled by at a snail’s pace. Horny and unable to focus on my job with images of Quinn shooting rapid fire through my head, I botched two orders and spilled an entire tray of drinks in front of the bar, which won me a thunderous wave of applause from everyone who saw it happen. By the time two a.m. rolled around, I had a pounding headache and was more than ready to leave. Grabbing a bag of trash in each hand, I lugged the garbage to the alley outside and tossed it into the giant Dumpster that sat behind the club. I took a deep breath of the outdoor air and closed my eyes, filling my lungs, hoping to clear my headache.
An eerie sense of foreboding hit me once again, my heart rate jumping from zero to sixty in all of two seconds. My palms felt sweaty and my knees shaky. Spooked, but not scared enough to run, I opened my eyes and peered down the dark alley to see a large black dog standing several feet away, staring at me. The ill-boding canine took a few steps closer, stepping into a small ray of light that shone into the narrow alley from a nearby streetlamp. Petrified with fear, I moved to turn and get the hell out of the alley, only to find my feet glued to the cement pavement, each extremity feeling as though it weighed a metric ton. I stood, trapped in place, paralyzed with fear as the dog’s obsidian eyes bore into me.
I gasped. Those eyes…They were identical to those of the dark figure
from my dream. Crippling fear wormed its way in, slithering around my insides, chilling me to the bone. Unable to move, I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was a breathy garbled noise. The dog stalked forward until it stood directly in front of me, baring its grisly teeth and uttering a lone, spine chilling word. “Mine.”
Everything went black.
Chapter 3
“RYANN!”
I shifted in place, faintly aware someone was shouting my name. Whoever it was sounded muffled, as if a heavy door blocked their voice. My mind struggled to break through the haze holding me under, making my thoughts fuzzy and scattered. Where was I? What happened?
As I fought to recall what the hell was going on, an icy tremor wracked my body. Stone cold, through and through, I reached out with my right hand and slid my fingers against a gritty, hard surface. Was I lying on the ground?
The worried voice called my name again, and I willed my heavy eyes to open. No such luck. They stubbornly remained closed. Suddenly, my body took on a feeling of weightlessness and the chills subsided. Was I flying?
Warm breath wafted across my face, and a low, masculine voice filled my ear. “No, love, I’m carrying you.”
The muscles in my body relaxed the moment I heard the reassuring tone of my chivalrous helper. That voice…it was so familiar. I rolled my head toward the source of the comforting sound, letting it rest against his shoulder.
No longer blocked by the annoying haze, my thoughts cleared, and I realized I was indoors, cradled in the arms of my personal aid. I felt a rustle of movement as whoever held me sat down. Several troubled voices spoke at once.
“Ryann, mi dulce, are you okay?” It was Gabriel. His voice sounded strained with worry.
I wanted to tell him I was all right, but I couldn’t find my voice and my stubborn eyelids remained weighted down and uncooperative “Ryann.” The pleasant, familiar voice sent waves of comfort through my veins, easing me further.
“Hmmm?” I managed with a bit of effort.
“Ryann, a ghrá. Open your eyes.”
Why is that voice so familiar? I know that voice.
The large, warm hand that cupped my cheek slammed me back into reality like a powerful wave breaking against a jagged ocean rock. Quinn. His touch sent swell upon swell of wanton desire throughout my body and wet heat pooling between my thighs.
My eyes flew open and I gasped, staring up into Quinn’s brilliant, yet somber, blue eyes. I lay cradled in his arms, surrounded by Stan and Gabriel. Their words meshed together, garbled and unintelligible, as they both spoke over the other. Not that I was paying attention to anything they said. I couldn’t tear myself away from Quinn’s gaze. I could barely catch my breath.
Quinn dropped his head and, with a hiss, looked away momentarily before lifting me off his lap and placing me on the loveseat. He knelt down, taking great care to keep our bodies apart. Did he know the effect his touch had on me? Why did he look so sad? I wasn’t sad. I was hot, ready, and oh-so-willing.
Struck with the powerful need to comfort him, I lifted my hand to caress his face and winced when he moved away, avoiding my touch. I raised my eyebrows in question.
He met my silent inquiry with a long sigh. “Later. I promise.”
I nodded, telling myself I’d hold him to his word. I was desperate to know what magic kept throwing us together.
Stan lurched into view. “Ryann, thank goodness you’re all right.” His pitchy voice strained with worry. “You scared me to death. I saw you carrying the trash out and thought I would come back to see if you needed any help. When I came outside, you were laying on the ground, unconscious, with this guy,” he pointed to Quinn, “hovering over you. What happened?”
I didn’t know how to answer him. I wasn’t exactly sure what happened myself. “Um…well, there was a dog.”
Gabriel stepped forward. “A dog?” His deep Latin voice held a hint of incredulity, and he gaped at me like I was some kind of lunatic.
I stiffened, switching into defense mode. “Yes, a dog.”
Stan eyeballed me like I’d lost my grip on reality. “Do you normally swoon at the sight of canines?” His tone was patronizing and I flashed him a nasty look.
“No, I do not normally faint at the sight of dogs. I love animals. This dog was creepy. There was something wrong with its eyes.” I winced, remembering the soulless black orbs. I turned my attention back to Quinn, meeting his gaze head on.
He didn’t appear to share my coworkers disbelieving sentiments with regard to the dog. Or if he did, he didn’t let it show, and for that I was thankful. Instead, he stared right through me, his powerful jaw clenched and rigid, his brows furrowed as though he were deep in thought.
“I didn’t see any dog, Ryann, just him.” Stan pointed toward Quinn again. “How do we know he didn’t attack you?” Behind the thick Coke-bottle glasses he wore, his eyes were full of distrust.
Quinn remained stone-faced and silent, like an impressive marble statue, flawless and still.
I pushed up onto my elbows and sat up, a wave of dizziness hitting me as I swung my legs off the small loveseat. “He didn’t attack me, Stan. He wasn’t even there. I told you, there was a creepy black dog and it scared me. That’s all.”
“Enough.” Quinn stood up, his massive six foot three, two-hundred-plus pound frame towering over Stan. “I’ll be taking Ryann home now.”
The room fell silent, Quinn’s thunderous command still echoing throughout the small space. Stan, who looked as though he might wet himself as he stared up at Quinn’s hulking build, nodded in agreement and spoke with a shaky voice.
“Yes, I agree with your friend, Ryann, you should get home and rest. Are you comfortable leaving with…?” Stan turned his head in the direction of my handsome new hero.
“Quinn. His name is Quinn, and yes, I’m comfortable leaving with him. He’s a friend.”
At least I think he is.
Regardless of who or what he was, I wanted some answers, and the best way to get them was to spend time with him. What had he been doing skulking around an alleyway at two in the morning?
I faltered a bit as I stood, still weak from my recent swoon, and gathered my belongings from my locker, feeling more than a little embarrassed. What the hell was going on? I never fainted. I never lost control.
“Feel better, Ryann,” Stan called as I made my way to the exit, where Quinn stood waiting for me.
I threw my gangly boss and Gabriel a halfhearted wave, and mouthed a quick thanks as I left.
An uncomfortable silence grew between us as we walked up the street toward my apartment. Quinn’s mood flipped a one-eighty yet again, changing from his earlier polite and courteous state of being, to silent and brooding.
And God, he did the brooding thing well. Dressed in a black leather jacket that screamed badass, a white t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans that clung to his muscular body as though they were designed specifically for him, his aura screamed “don’t fuck with me.” The muscles in his face were taut, etched into a mask of seriousness that looked an awful lot like agony.
The look of pain he wore tore at my heart. It didn’t matter that I barely knew him; I had to ease him. Unable to bear the silence, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “So what were you doing in the alley? I thought you’d left the club?”
He glanced at me. “I was taking a walk when I heard you scream. I followed the sound and found you, passed out on the ground.”
My eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “You were taking a walk? At two in the morning? Why? And really? You heard me scream?” How was that possible? I’d barely been able to make a sound, I was so scared.
“Aye, I’ve got good ears.”
I frowned. “Did you see the dog?” I knew what I saw, but regardless of Stan’s earlier comments, it would be nice to hear someone else confirm my recollection.
His lips drew into a thin line and the thick muscles in his neck twitched and pulsated. “Yes.”
I
couldn’t help but think he was keeping something from me, what with the short, truncated answers. “What are you not telling me?” I stopped and crossed my arms, refusing to take another step until he opened up.
“Look,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t want you walking home from work at this late hour by yourself. It’s not safe. I got a very bad feeling when I walked down that alley and found you.” His deep voice sounded troubled, his Irish accent thick.
“Listen, I’m well aware that walking around after-hours is not ideal, but I live just a few streets away, so there’s no point in driving to work. Walking makes more sense. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.”
“Jaysus! Are you daft? Prancing about during the wee hours of the morning is just asking to get picked off! You’re as dense as bottled shite!”
Asshole!
My blood boiled. “Excuse me? Bottled shite? You know, that’s the second time you’ve referred to me as stupid and I don’t appreciate it. I want to know why you’re so concerned for my well-being. You don’t know me from Adam. Explain please, and without insulting me.” I glared at him with my hands on my hips, hoping he’d slip up and insult me again, so I could rip him a new asshole.
Still scowling, Quinn let out an aggravated huff and pierced me with a hot glare. “I sensed an evil presence in the alley. I’m concerned for your safety.”
An evil presence? Who does he think he is, Nostradamus?
I eyed him warily. “Oh-kay. I’m not gonna lie to you, you’re creeping me out with the evil talk.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then slammed it shut. After a minute, he tried again. “Sorry, a ghrá, I was just trying to be honest with you.”
I folded my arms across my chest and raised an eyebrow. “You know, I don’t get you. When we first met, you acted like a complete tool, flirting with me and checking out my ass in front of your girlfriend. The next time we cross paths, you’re a pompous jerk at first, only to do a complete one-eighty and come to my rescue later in the day. What gives? I can’t keep up with this hot and cold crap.”