Dark Seduction

by Jayne Blue

  As I crossed the bridge, my phone rang again. This time, I let it go through. “Dammit, Quinn,” my agent, Noreen, barked at me. “You can’t keep avoiding my calls.”

  “I’m not,” I lied. “I just wanted to sleep in for once.”

  “Fine,” she said. “But you need to get back to L.A. by the end of the week. I’ve lined up some meetings for you. And Janet Howard wants you to read for a part in her next thriller.” My heart fell. It would be a carbon copy of Night Terrors.

  “I just need a few more days,” I said.

  “How’s it going?” Noreen absolutely hated the idea of me pursuing this project. It was too much of a departure from my bread and butter for her tastes.

  “I’ll let you know,” I said. I was already checked out from our conversation as I reached the end of the Port Azrael bridge. The town lights glittered even in broad daylight. My research told me the Dark Saints managed some businesses downtown by the docks. All I could see right now was a huge sports bar with Vegas-style lights bordering the sign. “Cups,” it was called. Just before eleven and two waitresses in skimpy referee uniforms were just heading through the back door. I parked my rental in the first open spot I saw and waited. I said goodbye to Noreen while she was still mid-sentence.

  All of a sudden, I felt silly. Maybe Noel had the better idea. Exactly what had I hoped to accomplish coming down here by myself? My experience at Woody’s and in the hotel lobby had proven I couldn’t travel incognito. The minute anyone recognized me, they stopped acting naturally.

  There was laughter behind me and I checked my rearview mirror. My heart tripped as the vibration rumbled through my chest. Three Harleys pulled up right alongside me. Their leather-clad riders each wore mirrored aviator sunglasses. I recognized one of them from last night. He was huge with olive-toned skin that made it hard to tell if he was black, white, Hispanic, or a mixture of all. The worn leather of his vest stretched across his broad back, bearing the club insignia. The Dark Saints M.C., Port Azrael. Beneath that, a figure crouched with great wings spread behind him and a sword between his knees. The guy had ink swirling across both powerful forearms. He flicked his wrist and cut the engine of his massive bike. A tremor of desire flooded through me unbidden as I imagined what it might feel like to ride behind him, wrapping my arms beneath that leather and feeling his rock hard abs as we flew down the highway.

  He dismounted. He wore weathered jeans that stretched taut over his muscular thighs. He was oblivious to my presence. They all were. One gave the other a good-natured slap on the back. I felt invisible behind the tinted windows of the Ford SUV. From here, I could stare to my heart’s content.

  “Shut the fuck up, Dom,” the biggest one said to the other. He was the one who throttled Noel last night. From here, I could just make out the white patch on his lapel as he turned toward the street. Axle, it said. Beneath that, a single word that made my pulse quicken. “Enforcer.”

  “Axle, you’re full of shit,” Dom said. Dom turned and leaned against the side of the building. His companion lit a cigarette.

  Dom. The patch on his lapel read “Domino.” Domino. Domino. I let the name roll through my mind. Domino. Axle. Chase. These were road names. Nicknames given to them by senior members of the club. They all had secret meanings and my imagination raced with made-up backstories for each of them.

  I crouched low in my seat as one of the club members finally looked in my direction. It was Domino with the ruddy complexion and sinful gaze. He was brutal and beautiful. His full lips curled into a snarl as he pressed his back to the building with one booted foot against the wall. He jerked his chin and said something I couldn’t hear to his companion, Axle. Axle shrugged and slapped Domino on the back.

  Chase gripped Axle on the shoulder, slid his sunglasses into his collar, and walked through the front door of the restaurant. Axle tilted his head to the side and held up a fist. Domino knocked his against it and the two separated.

  Domino pushed himself away from the wall as Axle left him to follow Chase into the building. Domino turned his back to me and looked up at the sky. He straightened his shoulders and I expected him to follow the others in. Instead, he turned and stared right at me.

  My heart went into my throat as he took four long strides and swaggered right up to my window. He leaned against the car door and knocked his index finger against the glass.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I could have put the car in gear and backed the hell out of there. I supposed that might even be worse than taking pictures on my phone like Noel had. Crap. For all the shit I’d given him for acting like an idiot last night, I was no better.

  Taking a deep breath, I rolled my window down and mustered my best movie-star smile.

  “Hi,” I said. My throat felt like sandpaper. My pulse thundered in my ears.

  From a distance, Domino looked tough and mysterious. From two inches away, he made my heart stop. He had a pair of light green eyes that seemed able to see straight through me. The scent of leather and metal hit me. This man was dangerous and compelling at the same time.

  “You want to tell me why you keep following me?” he asked. There was no malice in his tone, but his deep voice sent goosebumps skittering across my arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I was in it now. No point in trying to lie. “My name is Quinn,” I said, thrusting my hand out of the window to shake his.

  Domino cocked his head to the side, reminding me of a confused pit bull. “Quinn,” he repeated, sending my heartbeat into overdrive. When he took my hand and his rough fingers brushed the underside of my wrist, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Quinn,” he said.“I think we need to have a conversation.”

  “I think we do too,” I answered. It was as if somebody else had taken over my mouth. What was I saying? “I’m not here to cause any trouble for you. You should know that.”

  Domino’s deep, sultry laugh ignited every nerve ending in my body. A blush heated my cheeks as I realized how ridiculous I sounded. Right. As if he were worried about me being dangerous to him.

  “Can we talk somewhere?” I asked, still not sure what had come over me. But I knew this was important. Noel had gotten us off on the wrong foot. I’d come this close to making things even worse. At this point, honesty was the only play I had.

  Domino stood up. He walked around the front of my car. At first, I thought he was about to leave. Then he came around to the passenger side and opened the door. A little voice inside of me told me I was stupid for not locking it.

  As my heart raced a mile a minute, an unfamiliar desire coursed through me. Domino stood in the open door and peered at me. “You want to just sit there or do you want to drive?”

  Taking a deep breath, I gripped the steering wheel and put the car in reverse. “Get in,” I said. As I let my breath out, it felt like jumping off a cliff. Domino’s slow smile spread and his eyes sparked with mischief. Then he slid into the passenger seat and closed the door.

  “Let’s roll, Quinn,” he said. “I’ll tell you where to go.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and drew in one more breath for courage, then I backed out of the parking space and headed toward the bridge.

  Chapter 4

  Domino

  She was younger than I realized. Quinn. The name didn’t really suit her. To me, Quinn is one of those short, stocky, badass Irish dudes who fight in the octagons. This girl looked like she’d stepped out of a painting in a museum. I could almost believe I’d dreamt her. She had ivory skin and fine-boned features with high cheekbones and a little upturned nose with a natural flair. It made her look like she was always on the verge of emotion, whether it was anger, joy, or something a hell of a lot sexier. I’d never see anyone like her. She had platinum hair that definitely hadn’t come from a bottle. There were no dark roots and her brows matched. She arched one of them as she gave me side-eye, keeping her attention focused on the road ahead.

  “Just head for the bridge,” I said. “There’s a little park at the
base of it. It’s nice. Open.”

  “Public?” she asked with that brow still arched. She gave me the hint of a smile. Goddammit, she was stunning. It took less than five minutes to get to the park. Quinn pulled into a spot near the water fountain. There were people all around but no one paid us any mind. She left the car running, but put it in park as she turned to face me. I wanted to cut the bullshit and hoped she did too.

  “So,” I said running a thumb over the rough stubble covering my chin. “What the hell is somebody like you doing in Port Azrael and what’s your boyfriend doing taking pictures of my crew?”

  Quinn’s eyelids fluttered. She had thick, blonde eyelashes and wore hardly any make-up. This girl had to be a supermodel or something. I never got around to asking Toby how he knew her. I couldn’t help letting my gaze flick downward. I hadn’t gotten a really good look at her last night. She was stacked, wearing a pink shirt cut low. When she turned, I saw the hint of her bra strap. It was siren red and my pulse quickened. Fuck. This kind of hassle would do me no good right now.

  “Someone like me?” she asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I smiled and sat back, getting more comfortable. Man. I could sit here and look at this woman all day. She kind of reminded me of the early pictures I’d seen of Marilyn Monroe. The ones where she posed nude that found their way into Playboy. My jeans got a little tighter and I cracked my knuckles, trying to push the lust I felt aside.

  “Look,” I said. “Quinn. I could give you the whole ‘be careful, you’re not from around here’ speech. I figure that’s what you expect me to say. You probably need to hear it. But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not stupid.”

  “Gee,” she said, dropping her smile. “Thanks. And I think I’ve already given you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not just some mindless thug. I let you get in my car. You’re right. I’m not stupid.”

  Shit. I’d pissed her off. I didn’t mean to. On the other hand, I loved the way her upper lip twitched as she tried to keep her cool. This chick had fire burning inside of her. With her looks, I figured she was used to people making assumptions about her, plenty. Though I felt a little like shit for offending her, I didn’t mind igniting that wildfire behind her eyes.

  I leaned forward, narrowing the space between us. I could feel her hot breath against my cheek. Her mouth parted and I got a glimpse of the tip of her tongue as it darted out and she wet her bottom lip. Fuck.

  “Fine,” I said. “So answer my question.”

  She leaned back, reclaiming her personal space. She held my steady gaze and I respected her just that much more for it. “Noel isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my business partner.”

  “Ah,” I said, drumming my fingers against the dashboard. It all started making sense. It wasn’t the first time somebody like Noel used somebody like Quinn as bait for the guys in my club. They figured we’d be good money and a solid business plan. Except, why the hell had he made her dress down and wear that stupid baseball cap?

  “No,” she said, fuming. Clearly she was able to read enough in my posture to realize the conclusion I’d drawn. Her face went beet red. She was even easier to read. “Shit.” She sighed. “You think I’m a hooker, don’t you? Of course you do. I mean ... last night ... and today. Shit. What’s your name? Domino?” She made a circular motion with her index finger, pointing at the patch I wore.

  “Yeah,” I answered. I held back my growing need to smile.

  “I’m not,” she said, the fire in her eyes growing even hotter. “I’m not some prostitute, Domino.”

  My turn to arch a brow at her. “Whatever you say.”

  She slammed her palm against the steering wheel. Her horn gave a little bleat that drew some eyes from the joggers and walkers on the trail around the fountain. Quinn sucked in a hard breath.

  “Listen,” I said. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I don’t judge. But I will give you a piece of advice. I think you want it because you came back looking for my club. Tell your, uh, business partner to watch his manners. He’s lucky Axle didn’t rip his face off last night. So, why don’t you tell me what the hell it is you want with the Saints?”

  Her little nose twitched, reminding me of a jackrabbit sniffing a carrot. It was cute when I knew she was trying to be fierce. Well, she was a little bit fierce in spite of it. I couldn’t help it. I was intrigued. If she really was a pros, she didn’t belong with that asshole she brought to Woody’s. A woman like her would do better with someplace high-end. I had some contacts with a firm based out of D.C. that would go nuts for her. But even as I thought it, my blood started to heat with rage. A vision flashed through my mind of what Quinn would look like working. I found myself wanting to beat the shit out of any other guy who came near her.

  Yep. This was definitely not good for business.

  “You really have no idea who I am, do you?” she asked. She set her jaw to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

  I flipped my palms up and shrugged. “You got me, honey.”

  Quinn pursed her lips, showing a cavernous dimple in her left cheek. “I’m Quinn Larsen,” she said. “Your friend guessed right.”

  When I didn’t react, she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not kidding, are you?” she finally asked. “I mean ... you don’t go to movies, read tabloids, I don’t know ... cruise the internet? Right. Of course you don’t.”

  “Honey,” I said. “Just tell me what your deal is.”

  “I’m an actress,” she said. “A pretty famous one, actually.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. There came that fiery fury behind her eyes. I’m not ashamed to admit that’s exactly what I was angling for. I liked this girl feisty. It wasn’t hard to see she wasn’t used to this. If she was telling the truth, she was obviously used to getting whatever she wanted by using that name or that face. I was making her work for it and it had my heart beating double time.

  “I’m here doing research for a movie I want to make. A part I want to play. It’s ... uh ... a lot different from the kind of thing people know me for. I’m hoping if we do it right, it’ll help me take my career in a whole new direction.”

  She might as well have been talking Mandarin. I still had no idea what the hell any of this had to do with me or my club. So I asked her. “And you think I can help you with that?”

  “Yes!” she said in almost a breathless whisper. “Yes,” she said more forcefully. “Shit. I’m not good at this. I’m not used to being the pitch person.”

  “Let me guess, that’s Noel’s job?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, ugh. This whole thing is new for both of us. I won’t bore you with all the back-end bullshit that goes into getting a movie made.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself trying to explain hard stuff to someone like me, right?” I said, letting my voice drop low, giving it an edge that usually scared the shit out of people. Quinn didn’t flinch though. Instead, she let out that hard breath I’d quickly learned she did when she was frustrated. It was just too much damn fun watching her get more agitated. She must have seen something in my eyes, because the hint of a smile curved her mouth.

  “Look,” she started again. “I told you. Pitching ideas isn’t my strong suit. This producer role is new for me. But it matters. This project matters.”

  “Great,” I said. “So what does it have to do with me or my club?”

  She was biting her lip again. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to work out what to say. I realized at that moment that if it was within my power to give it to her, I wanted to. I wanted to keep having a reason to see her. On the other hand, thinking with my dick probably wasn’t the wisest choice.

  “Well,” she said. “It’s about your club. This movie. Well, not your club specifically. But a club. It’s a crime drama. You say you don’t know me. This movie, this part. It’s not what I’m known for. It’s serious. It’s substantial. It’s the kind of thing I want to be doing though. So we came here in part for a
location scout. But more importantly, so I could maybe consult with someone ... like you ... so I don’t screw this up.”

  She could have reared back and clocked me in the jaw. It would have been easier to take. This chick was cracked in the head. “You think I’m going to let you film my club?”

  “No, not film,” she said. “Consult. Let me interview some of you. Some of the women that like to hang around you. Day-in-the-life stuff.”

  I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. “Honey, go back to Hollywood or wherever you came from.”

  But she didn’t flinch. She just kept that hard, furious stare right at me. Crossing her arms in front of her, she shifted her position so she faced me straight on. “Will you just hear me out? This won’t cost you anything. I won’t get in your way. This movie is getting made one way or another. I want it to be real.”

  “Real?” I said, dropping my smile. I leveled the hardest gaze at her I could. This time, she did flinch. “You wanna play biker banger for a day? Is that it?”

  There was a toughness about this chick. It wasn’t like the kind I was used to in women. The bangers I mentioned, a lot of them had the shit kicked out of them by life from day one. They were territorial. Then there was Mama Bear. She was the most badass woman I’d ever known, surviving a tour in the Middle East as an army medic before she even married Bear. And she put up with all of us on a daily basis. But this woman ... Quinn was different. She looked like candy on the outside but there was something behind her eyes. Part fire, part steel. But she was vulnerable too. I saw it in her trembling lip that she tried to hide by biting it again.

  “I told you,” she said, holding my gaze. “This movie is going to get made one way or the other. I want it to be honest. At least, as honest as it can be. I don’t want to make a cartoon or a caricature. And Noel was an idiot last night. I didn’t know he planned on whipping out his camera. That was rude. It won’t happen again.”