Captivated

by Susan Scott Shelley

  Zander and his band put on an electric show. They went all out, full energy. Music pounded through the arena. Dom couldn’t have asked for a better concert, or a better companion. Irisa’s expression beamed with pride for her brother. And after meeting the guys, Dom felt a more vested interest in wanting them to succeed.

  The strains of an unfamiliar song started. Irisa leaned in close to his ear. “This is the last song. I’ll be back.” She and Jayne slipped away.

  When the house lights came on, organized chaos again took over. He again did his best to stay out of everyone’s way, until a security guard came over and directed him and his teammates to the green room, promising the band would be in soon.

  Liam grabbed a soda from the table laden with food and drinks. “Is it weird for anyone else? We spend most of our time as the guys people wait to see. This is sort of a surreal experience.”

  “It is.” Dom chose a water bottle. “But it’s good to be out of the spotlight.”

  “Says the guy dating the band’s manager.” Slade nudged him.

  The door banged open, and the band piled inside, saving Dom from forming a response. The guys looked exhausted. All four of them made a beeline for the sports drinks. A few other people with VIP passes filed in. Every time the door opened, Dom looked for Irisa. Finally, she and Jayne came in with members of the crew.

  Zander walked over to Dom and his group. “We’re going to cut out of here soon. Come out to the bar with us.”

  Adam jangled his keys. “Thanks, but I’m just going to head home.”

  “I guess that means we’re leaving now, too.” Liam gestured to himself and Slade. “He’s our ride.”

  “You have to come, man.” Zander tapped Dom’s shoulder. “Especially since we didn’t get a chance to hang after the ball game.”

  “That would be awesome.” He wanted to hang out with the band, but not if Irisa didn’t join them. When she came up to them, he reached out and caught her hand. “Do you want to go out with the band?”

  Her gaze swung to her brother. “All four of you are going?”

  He nodded.

  Her lips pressed together. “If you’re all going, I guess I am, too.”

  Not exactly a resounding yes, more like a resigned if I have to, but she squeezed his hand and offered him a smile.

  Downing drinks at a noisy bar after a show wasn’t something Irisa indulged in often. But Dom had wanted to go, and whenever the band did something together, she liked to be close by. Especially lately. They fought too easily otherwise. Sipping wine, she chatted with Jayne and kept her eye on the guys. Brendan, Landry, and Luke by the pool tables in the back of the room, and Zander and Dom beside her, trading stories like old friends amid the constant barrage of fans interrupting them for an autograph or a picture. She’d always appreciated the band’s fans, but pangs of jealousy grew stronger with each female who fawned over Dom like he was a piece of meat set before a starving den of lionesses.

  He looked uncomfortable with the attention and kept glancing at her, talking to her, and touching her shoulder or her hand, and the women rewarded her with dirty looks or cold disinterest.

  She drained her wine. This really wasn’t fun.

  His big body shifted until they were torso to torso. He bent low, lips to her ear. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to hang out with your brother and spend time with you. Not all that other stuff.”

  “It’s important to be nice to the fans.”

  A grim smile set on his lips. “I love my fans, but I don’t love the women who came over here when I’m obviously with you, and tried to give me their phone numbers.”

  Her jaw clenched at the reminder. “I don’t care if baseball is supposed to be a team sport. I’m not sharing.”

  Dom set his beer on the bar and reached for her glass. “Dance with me.”

  She wouldn’t have thought him a dancer, but she wasn’t about to let the chance to touch him slide away. He linked their hands and led her across the scarred wood to a darkened corner at the edge of the dance floor.

  The bass beat matched the rhythm of her heart. Dom’s hands traveled along her back, down to the waistband of her jeans, then roamed lower, into her back pockets, and squeezed. The move brought her tighter against him.

  Her breath caught. No doubt about his arousal. Her nipples pebbled into his chest. She gripped his hair with one hand and traced the line of his shirt collar with the other. His eyes glazed when her nails scraped his skin.

  His lips hovered a few inches from hers, and they watched each other as their bodies moved in a slow bump and grind. He kept her close, tucked into the corner, with her back to the wall.

  He was more aggressive than he’d been before. She welcomed his strength and let him lead them where they both wanted to go. His lips took hers hot and fast; his tongue stroked hers, and then moved to her neck. She angled her head to give him better access. He pressed the sensitive spot below her ear and his stubble scraped her skin. Teeth nipped and the sensation zinged through her nerve endings. He soothed the spot with his tongue.

  “I want you.” His voice rumbled low in her ear. The words set off a rush of heat. He sounded desperate, like a junkie waiting for his next fix.

  “Yes,” she breathed, then nipped his earlobe. “Me too.”

  A groan vibrated from his throat. His hands pulled her harder against him, arms banding around her. She wished they were at the pub in their building, with relief only sixteen stories away. Enduring any amount of time in a car ride wasn’t ideal.

  No more fighting the attraction. She leaned in closer. “I’ll say good night to the guys and we can take this someplace private.”

  His eyes darkened as her words registered. One more slide of his jeans against hers weakened her legs. Then he lowered his arms. Her heart beat wildly and she had trouble catching her breath. He smoothed her shirt then readjusted his jeans. “Let’s go.”

  He wrapped his hand around hers and led her toward the bar.

  She scanned past Brendan and Landry, holding court with a small army of groupies, and spotted Zander dancing with Jayne on the opposite side of the room, a little too close to be considered just friendly. But where was Luke?

  A thunderous crash drowned out the music. Loud male voices rang out, one very angry and very familiar. Dread welled in her stomach.

  Luke stood by the pool table, fists raised.

  Not good. Not now. Not him again.

  Leaving with Dom would have to wait. Muscles tight, she released his hand. She sailed across the room, heading toward Luke and the biggest, most pissed off biker she’d ever seen. What the hell was he doing?

  Keep him calm, keep him calm. Defuse and distract. “Luke? Come on, we’re leaving.”

  The singer spared her a glance, then resumed staring down the biker. “This asshole took my game. We were next up.”

  “Just let it go.” She touched his elbow. “Come on.”

  “No.”

  The biker smirked. “I suggest you listen to your little lady.”

  Luke edged in closer. “Fuck you, dude. Get the hell out of here.”

  The biker’s gaze turned blazing. “What did you say to me?” He cracked his knuckles and stepped closer.

  “Come on, Luke.” Her heart hammered. Luke was tall and tough, but the biker was huge. Her peripheral vision picked out at least five more dressed just like him, matching patches on their leather jackets.

  The biker eyed her with a stare cold enough to make her shiver. His hand tapped her shoulder and then pushed hard. She stumbled to the side, right into a waitress carrying a tray laden with drinks.

  They both fell. Glasses smashed, drinks splattered, and right above her, a fight broke out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dom raced across the crowded floor, yelling for Zander. At first, he hadn’t realized why Irisa had moved away from him. Then his gaze landed on Luke facing off against the biker. By then, Irisa was
already halfway across the floor. What the hell was she thinking?

  The biker shoved her. The crowd swallowed her fall. Glass shattered and someone screamed.

  “What the hell?” he roared, blood pounding in his ears. He pushed people aside, torn between rushing to her aid and slamming his fist into the biker’s face.

  Luke snarled at the biker. “You don’t touch her.”

  “Fine.” A meaty fist flew toward Luke’s face.

  The crowd pressed in around them, ready for a fight, calling out encouragement and suggestions to do harm. And she was in the middle of it. A young couple helped her to her feet.

  Dom caught an elbow in the ribs and another in his back. Finally, he reached her. She stood amid broken bottles and sloshed drinks, looking dazed and clutching her wrist to her chest. “You okay?”

  Wide, frantic eyes gazed at the scene unfolding around them. “I have to stop him.”

  Something crashed behind them. Dom pulled her into his arms and turned. The fight spilled out into the rest of the bar. The biker’s friends and Luke’s supporters jumped in. Shoving, punching, and spiraling out of control. Someone threw a chair.

  They needed to get out. He maneuvered them around tables and chairs, creating more distance between them and the crowd.

  Irisa stopped moving. “My brother’s in there.”

  Dom turned his head. Sure enough, Zander, Brendan, and Landry were in the mix. Cameras flashed and people held their phones high.

  Four men, big walls of muscle dressed in black shirts, jumped into the melee. They hauled the fighters apart. Two grabbed hold of the biker and pulled him toward the back door. The other two grabbed hold of Luke, dragged him to the front entrance, and pushed him out the door.

  “We need to go.”

  “But Zander—”

  “Can handle himself. He’s going to get tossed anyway.”

  The bouncers guided Landry, Brendan, Zander, and Jayne past them. One pointed a beefy hand toward the door. “Keep moving. Get the hell out.”

  “See? Let’s go.” Dom nodded to the bouncer as they exited. The door slammed at their backs.

  In the middle of the parking lot, spotlighted by streetlights, the biker and his gang faced off against Luke and his band.

  Not again. Irisa still cradled her wrist. Dom’s side ached and he was damn tired of things getting in the way of being with her. Frustration pushed him forward. Gravel crunched under his shoes. Heads turned in his direction. He stepped in between the two men. “Guys, let it go. It’s not worth spending the night in jail.”

  The biker cracked his knuckles and shifted his stance. “And who the hell are you?”

  Dom rolled his shoulders. He didn’t want to fight, but he wouldn’t walk away from one. And besides, this guy had put his hand on Irisa.

  A tall, wide man next to the biker squinted at Dom, then swatted the biker’s shoulder. “Hey, Big Lou, that’s Dom Torres.”

  The biker’s face lit up. “Torres? No shit? I’ve never seen you out of uniform.” He turned to his crew. “How ‘bout that? Dom freaking Torres, right here.” He moved closer and his hand swung up. Dom braced for a punch, but the biker’s hand ruffled him on the shoulder like he was an old friend.

  Adrenaline pumped hard, but the threat of danger began to recede. “You guys are Riptide fans?”

  They nodded, and Big Lou grinned. “We don’t miss a game.”

  Maybe he could bargain with them to leave Luke in one piece. “How about you and your crew head out of here now, and you give me your name and number. I’ll get you front-row seats right behind the dugout.”

  “You for real? You wouldn’t try to lie to Big Lou, now would you?”

  “Trust me. I got you covered.” He extended his hand.

  Big Lou looked at him, then grabbed hold and pumped. “All right. My man.” He turned to the wide man at his side. “Tiny, grab a paper and give this man my number.”

  Dom stepped closer. All wasn’t forgiven. “Lou, you need to apologize to my date here.” He gestured to Irisa. “I don’t like seeing anyone put his hands on her, especially a dude twice her size.”

  The huge biker’s mouth opened. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I just wanted her out of the way.” Shoulders slumped, he faced Irisa. “I’m sorry, miss. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  She slid her arms behind her back. “No harm done. I’m tougher than I look.”

  After another round of handshakes, the bikers left, with Big Lou calling out a “fuck you” to Luke, followed by a good-natured laugh. Dom turned to The Fury. “You guys okay?”

  Zander had a gash on his cheek and blood on his shirt. Jayne held a towel to her head. Brendan pressed a hand to his stomach and Landry’s knuckles bled.

  Luke, sporting the beginnings of a black eye, shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re giving those guys tickets.”

  Seriously? Dom’s temper flared. “You’re welcome for saving you the trouble of being scraped off the gravel.”

  Irisa slipped her arm around his waist. “Thank you.”

  “How’s your wrist?”

  She flexed it and winced. “I’ll be okay.”

  “We’re going to the hospital. You need an x-ray.” Good thing he’d driven them to the concert. He’d make sure she headed to the ER and not home.

  “We’ll meet you there.” Zander touched Jayne’s shoulder, his voice as angry as Dom felt. “She hit her head pretty hard on the bar.”

  Maybe Zander had witnessed Jayne’s fall but hadn’t been able to stop it. Just like what had happened when Big Lou shoved Irisa. Sparks of anger swirled in Dom’s blood. He nodded and drew Irisa toward his truck.

  She grasped his hand. “Thank you for saving the day back there.”

  Gritting his teeth, he told himself to relax. “I’m just glad those guys were Riptide fans.”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to put them behind the dugout? Won’t that distract you or your team?”

  He pulled out onto the road. “I’ll put them behind the visitors’ dugout. Let them heckle all they want. Hell, it might even help us win.”

  The closer they got to the hospital, and the more Irisa rubbed her wrist, the more he replayed the incident in his mind. “I can’t believe you ran right in there. You saw them facing off. You saw how big that guy was.”

  “It’s my job to keep my guys out of trouble.”

  “By putting yourself in harm’s way? You didn’t think twice about it, did you?”

  “Not really.” She shrugged as though chatting about something as mundane as the weather. “Those guys are like my brothers. Family comes first, before everything.”

  “Big Lou is a foot taller than you and outweighs you by a hundred pounds.”

  Her brows rose. “That didn’t stop you from playing superhero.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a hell of a lot bigger than you.” His muscles heated. He gripped the steering wheel and his fingers dug into the leather.

  “I have noticed. You’re huge and strong. And if you did end up fighting him, I’m sure you’d win. But I can’t sit by and do nothing when there’s a chance, however small, that I might be able to talk my guys out of a bad situation. I’m sorry if you can’t understand that.” Eyes sparking fire, she crossed her arms over her chest and faced the window.

  The hospital came into view. He parked under the red glow of the emergency room sign.

  With brisk, stiff movements, Irisa slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and gripped the door handle. “Thanks for driving me. I can catch a ride home with my brother.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you.” He leaned against the headrest, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Do you know what it was like for me watching him shove you? And seeing you go down? And not be able to get to you in time to stop it? Then the fight began and I didn’t see you at all. You could’ve been trampled for all I knew.”

  Delicate fingers touched his forearm. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “I’m sorry.” Her vo
ice, soft and clear, pulled at him.

  He put himself in her place. Had it been Slade or Liam facing off against the giant, he would’ve been right there, trying to stop it. He turned off the engine. “Come on. Let’s get you checked out.”

  The ER doctor examined her wrist, then sent her off for an x-ray. Irisa sat in the nearly empty waiting room with Dom waiting for the results.

  Her phone vibrated. Oliver. She hit ignore.

  Zander came into the room, sporting a bandage on his cheek and another on his hand. “The bar fight is all over the internet. People uploaded a bunch of videos and pictures.”

  Why did people feel the need to share every single thing online? Her stomach burned and her temples pounded. “That explains why Oliver just called.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  She shook her head. “Have you seen the pictures?”

  “They’re kind of bad. You can see all of us.”

  Not good. She pulled out her phone and searched for any reference to the band and bar fight. Her limbs filled with the urge to run. She popped an antacid.

  Dom’s hand covered hers before she could drop the roll in her purse. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “You have them on you a lot for someone who’s okay.”

  Zander frowned. “What’s going on?”

  She shook her head. “My stomach just burns sometimes when I’m stressed. No big deal.”

  “Acid reflux is a big deal.” Dom’s grip tightened. “My old manager treated it with over-the-counter tablets just like you’re doing. By the time it got so bad that he saw a doctor, he had cancer of the esophagus. Thank God he’s okay now, but he went through hell.”

  “I’ve been tested. I don’t have cancer or any other serious problems. This is just how my body reacts to stress.”

  “I don’t want you getting sick.” Zander shoved his hand in his hair. “I see you almost every day and never noticed you taking the things. And Torres here sees you a few times and picks up on it.”