by Mia Dymond
Mace pushed past. “Where is Dara?”
“Over there.” He gestured with his head to a table near the middle. “Looks like she’s signing napkins.” He then pointed to a neighboring table. “Looks like you’re getting lucky, Stewart. I believe that’s Alex, tossing back what appears to be shots of something.”
“It is.” Jackson nodded with a smug smile.
He nudged Jake with an elbow. “On your left.”
“Of course,” his friend mumbled.
He spoke the absolute truth when he told Jake that Bri would eventually end up on top of the bar, shaking her assets. She shook them alright, and several male patrons enjoyed every sultry shake of a hip. Jake didn’t seem to be bothered by the activity so he, too, chalked it up to an attempt to blow off steam.
The absolute shocker was the woman at the other end of the bar.
Both delicate hands held her blonde curls away from the sides of her face as she moved her hips in time to the heavy metal tune that blasted from the jukebox in the corner of the room.
Jake whistled low under his breath. “Is that Marnie?”
He only nodded. Not much to say when words escaped him.
“What the hell is she doing?”
He smirked at the other men. “What we have here, gentlemen, is a case of bad teacher.”
He watched his friends scatter as he remained propped against the wall. Although every nerve in his body urged him to stop the madness, he resisted. Insight told him she needed this moment to release the bottled tension she stored within. Instead, he squinted in the dim interior, straining to focus on her bare skin. Where the hell was the tattoo?
His gaze began a lazy perusal of her body beginning at the top of her head, slowly moving downward and stopping at every roadblock in between. No black marks, or colorful ones for that matter, marred her creamy, slender neck. Her tank top exposed both shoulders and arms, again ink-free.
As the music continued to play, she moved slightly to the left and bent at the waist. No ink in the valley of her cleavage or across the tops of her breasts. That discovery made him pause, both curious and annoyed. What kind of canvas had she provided?
He squeezed both hands into fists and then forced himself to take a deep breath. He moved his gaze over her hips, thankfully covered by shorts, and then down her short but smooth, toned legs. Again, no stamp in sight. In fact, the only evidence of color at all was the pink polish on her toenails. Suspicion tickled his back bone. Either his Intel was screwed or the lovely she-devil harbored a hidden secret.
Her swaying continued to hold him captive and he relaxed somewhat, leaning back against the wall, patiently waiting her out. He smirked. No harm in her finishing the song, especially since he enjoyed every single minute.
He cast a glance back at Bri, now off the stage and on Jake’s lap, attempting to stick a straw between his lips while she tossed back her head with a goofy, obviously alcohol-induced smile. Jake caught his stare and gave him a perfect kiss-my-ass glare.
The crowd around Dara’s table had disappeared, most likely because Mace sat behind her with his arms around her, caging her like a prisoner. The look on his face pretty much said it all – back off or be shot.
And then there were two.
Alex and Jackson had tucked themselves into a secluded, back corner booth, hands wrapped around two glasses of what he assumed to be the rum concoction that probably started everything in the first place.
He shook his head and returned his attention to the bar, this time immensely bothered by the action. There she stood, barefoot, still sexy as sin, still swaying her hips, except this time she extended one leg, her big toe tickling the chin of the guy who sat in front of her.
It took him less than two seconds to stand at the edge of the bar.
“Move,” he told her admirer.
Without argument, the poor sap departed.
He snatched her foot in his grasp. “Enough.”
She gave him a slow grin and wet her bottom lip. “Song’s not over.”
“Close enough.”
“Thirty seconds.”
“Now.”
“Or else?”
“I haul you off.”
“Really?”
Her eyes darkened and he swore he read an invitation in the depths – one that didn’t require an RSVP.
“Really.”
She lowered her gaze to his groin and raised an eyebrow. “That’s an awfully impressive weapon. Should I be afraid?”
He gave her leg a quick tug and she squealed as she fell into his arms. “Yes,” he said against her ear. “Be afraid, be very afraid.”
In one smooth, expert, strategic maneuver, he rolled her over onto her stomach and then draped her over one of his shoulders, her magnificent ass within biting distance. He took a full second to scan the skin peeking from beneath her shorts for ink. Nothing.
His back muscles pulsed as she gave them a thump with her hands. “Put me down, Ryker.”
“In a minute.”
With long steps, he covered the distance from the bar into the dark shadows of the room until he finally shoved open the door of the men’s room and set her back on her feet. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Lift your top.”
Her eyes widened and then he caught a quick, slight sparkle in the depths before she answered. “Excuse me?”
“Let me see the ink.”
“What ink?”
Rather than pursue an argument, he simply grinned, unfolded his arms, stepped forward, and placed both hands at the hem of her top. “Lift up, sweetheart.”
“Nice try. It’s not there.”
“But it’s somewhere.”
She only nodded in response.
“Where?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He slid both thumbs under her clothing, drawing lazy circles on her skin, encouraged when her muscles quivered beneath his touch. “Wouldn’t you like to show me?”
He moved his thumbs higher until he slipped them beneath the cups of her thin bra. Her quick intake of air told him she worked hard to deny him.
“No,” she groaned as she arched into his touch. “It’s more fun to make you hunt.”
His dick pounded. His fingers itched to move the short distance to her nipples – to wrap them around the rigid, pebbled nubs and squeeze. She was warm, molded putty in his hands and he was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn’t have to fight for her cooperation. The other one percent stopped him dead in his tracks.
With his cock screaming, he slid his hands from beneath her top and rested them at her hips. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Just a few.”
“A few?” He smirked. “If I let go, can you stand on your own?”
“Of course,” she scoffed.
He lifted one hand, not even remotely surprised when she teetered to one side.
“Of course,” he drawled. “You’re three sheets to the wind, Miss Carpenter. Looks like I’ll have to carry you out.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll just hang on to you.” She tucked an arm under his and wrapped her fingers around his biceps. “Open the door.”
Although not convinced she would make it out without being hoisted over his shoulder again, he opened the door and shuffled her through. Another set of heavy metal tunes coated the atmosphere. Luckily, there wasn’t a female decoration on the bar this time.
A tug on his arm caused him to look down.
“Wanna dance?” she said with a smile.
“No more dancing for you.” He paused long enough to give Jake, Mace, and then Jackson a head signal for let’s get the hell out of here and then steered her to the exit and out the door where the two extraction vehicles were parked.
“I need to pay my tab,” she insisted.
“Believe me, Jack has been more than compensated.”
“I don’t know Jack.”
“The bartender.” He didn’t give her time to res
pond as he dug his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and then lifted her into the passenger seat.
Marnie pressed two fingers against both temples as she heard the back door open and an unexpected, obviously alcohol-fueled giggle filled the interior.
“Alex?”
“Yep. Told ya we’d get caught.”
She peeked around the seat and grinned. “We sure did.”
“Where’s the warden?”
She shrugged. “Who knows? Did Bri and Dara make it out okay?”
“Of course. We were more concerned about you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Ryker didn’t appear too happy about your take for the evening.”
“Huh?” She attempted to shake the cobwebs from her mind. “I’ve had a lot to drink, Alex. You’ll have to be more specific.”
Another fit of giggles traveled from the back seat. “There were bills all over the bar. Do you have any stuck in your panties?”
“What? No!”
“Too bad. Ryker must’ve knocked them loose when he hauled you off.”
“Spoilsport,” she mumbled.
“Did he see the tattoo?”
She grinned again, this time in pure satisfaction. “He couldn’t find it.”
“I had no idea you could move like that.”
“Me either,” she admitted as she turned back around and closed her eyes. “Too bad Ryker missed the whole show.”
Several seconds of silence filled the atmosphere, causing her to question just how much alcohol her friend drank.
“Alex?”
“I’m awake,” the other woman mumbled, “but –”
“Good,” she continued, “because I was saying that if Ryker had witnessed the whole dance, the evening might have ended differently.”
“I saw the whole act.”
She squeezed her eyes tight at the sound of Ryker’s voice and cursed her loose lips. “Alex,” she groaned, “why didn’t you say something?”
“She figured you’d remember the door was still wide open,” he answered for her friend.
She pried open her eyes as he reached above her shoulder and then stretched the seatbelt across her body until it clicked into the buckle. Something – probably the mermaid’s tails – pushed the next question out of her mouth.
“And?”
His right eyebrow arched. “It was memorable.”
Alex snorted. “A memory you’ll never forget.”
“Behave, Alex.” Jackson entered the car and closed the passenger door.
Marnie attempted to assemble her thoughts into some sort of rational response as he closed her door and then climbed into the driver’s seat, but she just wasn’t capable. Maybe tomorrow.
“Are you up for this drive?” He started the engine and turned the air conditioning vents to blow cool air over her heated skin.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The road is downhill and twists twice.”
“I’m fine.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “What about you, Alex?”
“She’s asleep,” Jackson mumbled.
He grinned. “So much for lucky, Stewart.”
Marnie settled back against the leather seat for the short ride to the house. Memorable. What was that supposed to mean? Memorable as in he’d never forget it? Or memorable as if he’d like to forget it and couldn’t?
She stole a glance at him, hoping she might be able to catch a flash of emotion to help her interpret his take on the whole situation. She fully expected a reprimand for leaving without him but he had yet to issue one. In fact, he hadn’t said a whole lot about anything other than the tattoo. Confidence coated her muddled brain. Distraction at its best.
He finally released a long sigh as he parked in the driveway and killed the engine. “Don’t move until I come around.”
“I can get in the house.”
“Humor me.”
She released her seatbelt and shrugged. “Fine.”
“We’re going to bed.” Jackson stepped from the truck and hoisted a lethargic Alex into his arms. “Make sure the alarm is set this time, would you?”
Ryker shook his head. “It was set all along. They climbed through the gate, remember?”
“Don’t remind me,” Jackson mumbled. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Marnie sighed, envious of her friend; at least she’d passed out and could wait until morning to face Jackson. Then again, he probably wouldn’t say too much – Alex usually always had the final word.
Ryker finally opened her door and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
She stepped out of the truck and tried desperately not to wobble when her feet touched the ground. Yet, even she couldn’t dispute the fact that her legs weren’t exactly cooperative when she leaned to one side.
With a low snicker, Ryker lifted her into his arms without a word. With no other choice, she buckled her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. No telling what he might do to teach her a lesson.
Once she stood inside her bedroom on her own two feet, she allowed herself to relax. “Thank you. I can take it from here.”
“I don’t think so.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How long are we gonna dance, Miss Carpenter?”
“Apparently, I’m not a very good dancer.”
“I beg to differ.” He stepped near her and her body screamed bloody murder. “The little number I just witnessed proves my point.”
“Too much alcohol,” she mumbled.
“Nuh-huh.”
Fire raced up her arm as he made a slight sweep with his fingers along the length. “Your moves make me crazy.” A hot breath caressed the back of her hand when he lifted her arm to his lips. “Certifiably crazy.”
She stood silent as long as her body would allow, basking in the heat from his touch. God, she wanted this man more than her next breath and the knowledge that he desired her made things that much more urgent. He rolled over her hand, his fingertips teasing the sensitive center of her palm, plucking her nerve endings until her knees nearly buckled.
“Ryker.” She lifted her chin and tilted her head back to gaze into his eyes, not even remotely surprised to find she was breathless and dizzy. “Do it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She knew the second his lips met hers that she’d found the fountain of pure sexual satisfaction. Waves of arousal rocked her gently against the sharp edges of his chiseled body, the hardened muscles poking each and every one of her pleasure points. He devoured her more than kissed her, his warm massage almost sadistic in its attack. Wrapped in complete and utter bliss, she slid both hands around his waist and pulled him against her, content with leaving control and independence in his more than capable hands.
Her lips tingled as he moved his hands to grasp both sides of her face and continued the gentle assault on her flesh. A whimpered moan left her throat, one she hoped he’d interpret as more. Her heart pounded frantically, the sound echoing in her ears as she worked hard to remain upright. Especially since horizontal sounded really, really good at that moment.
And then, with one last small peck, he lifted his lips.
Her body shrieked like a wild banshee and for half a second she felt almost disoriented. Her fingers pressed into his sides of their own accord, as if she could silently convince him to pick up where he’d left off. He moved his thumb across one cheekbone and she opened her eyes, blinking several times to make sure he still held her.
“You’re an amazing dancer,” she said on a sigh.
With a grin, he dropped his hands. “With the right teacher.”
“Are you angry?”
“Believe me, anger is the last emotion I feel right now.”
“Thank you.” Her heart swelled. “I needed tonight.”
“I know.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
***
“This job isn’t going to
be easy.” He drained his bottle and set it back on the table. “But you can’t say it hasn’t been entertaining.”
“Those broads are a whole lot smarter than we thought.”
“Come on. Since they’re gone, let’s move to the bar. I need another drink.”
They moved from the dark corner and claimed two barstools. He signaled for two more bottles of beer.
“I can’t believe they didn’t make us.”
He agreed. In fact, the only thing that saved them from discovery was the low visibility. That, and those awful green alcohol concoctions. “Ironic that they ended up in the same bar where we chose to lay low.”
“Not really. We passed this place on the way to the Chameleon. I figured they might end up here at some point.” He tossed back a swallow of beer. “We just waited too damn long to make a move.”
“So, now what?”
“We keep watching and waiting. They’ve got to let their guard down sometime. And that’s when we’ll make our move.”
“They made us at the café. We won’t be able to hide much longer.”
Again, his partner had a point. Not only was the muscle on alert, so were the police. “We need to get her soon. We’re running out of time and the boss is running out of patience.”
“Has he contacted you?”
He shook his head, grateful the boss hadn’t called. “No, but our time’s almost up.”
“We have no choice but to wait. We can’t penetrate that compound.”
“True.” He finished his beer and set the bottle back on the bar. “But you saw how well she reacted to Adams. She’s a firecracker. Sooner or later we’ll catch her alone.”
CHAPTER SIX
Mid-morning sunlight warmed her body as Marnie lay propped up on her back with her legs stretched in front in the pool-side lounger. Cotton ball clouds floated overhead in the tropical paradise while a warm breeze moved the air. Perfect weather for a perfect vacation – unless a lunatic kidnapper decided to tag along.