by Julie Miller
No pretend security cops, no slick bad guys who could fool the rest of the world, and no red-haired bartender with a curvalicious body stolen straight off a swimsuit calendar, were going to stop him from getting the job done.
Sympathizing with Riley’s concern for her missing sister might tug at his conscience. Knowing a hottie like her was a prime candidate for going missing like other women in the city had should raise his protective instincts. But the smartest way to stay out of trouble was to avoid going near it in the first place. So getting rid of Riley had been doing her a favor. It was the best way to keep her safe. It was the best way to help her sister.
A wicked kiss and a handful of Riley’s fine, fine ass was all the playtime he could allow himself. Relationships for him were usually a down and dirty one-night-stand kind of thing, anyway. In the light of day, a woman wanted more than a little hot sex. He’d always been more action than charm. More Harley-Davidson than family sedan. In the light of day, the big, bad, tattooed tough guy never seemed to look like quite as much of a catch as he did after a few drinks in the shadows of the night.
Besides, the redhead was a little more complicated than he could handle right now. Not having a Riley in his life allowed him to focus on being a cop. Now that she was gone, he could concentrate on breaking open this investigation without any distraction to his conscience or his libido.
A.J. seemed to intuit the direction Josiah’s thoughts had headed. “I ran that background check on Doreen Riley you asked for.”
“What did you find out?” Pretending that jolt of interest hadn’t just surged through his veins, Josiah swiveled the chair to study the bustle of setup going on in the bar and ensure the other two bouncers he worked with were corralling the line starting to form out front. “Any way she’s a part of this?”
“Unlikely. Looks like she’s got a juvie record. Nothing violent. No drugs.” A.J. paused, probably waiting while a new computer screen loaded. “She’s got a thick file with Family Services, though.”
“Why?”
“Chronic runaway. Dropped out of high school, went back for her GED—wait, there’s a two-year gap in her records.” Then Detective Rodriguez swore in Spanish.
“What is it?”
“Your girl was on her own for a while. Never went back home, according to DFS. Never shows up in a foster home or group facility, either.”
That explained why Riley had friends on the street, and knew about the Yankee Hill Road shelter. She’d done a lot more than spend one night away from home. Josiah hated to think about all the trouble a teenage girl could get into in this neighborhood. He had a feeling, if there was trouble to be had, Riley had found it. And he didn’t want to think about the things she’d have to do to support herself and stay off KCPD’s radar.
There had to be a hell of a reason to put herself through that. “Why did she run away?”
“There are numerous reports here of an abusive stepdad named Salvatore Fusco. There were two charges of domestic violence that came to KCPD, but his only arrest is for a drunk and disorderly at one of the casinos. The mother wouldn’t back her up, explained away the injuries as accidents—probably afraid for her own safety.”
Josiah’s grip tightened around his phone. He silently fumed, thinking of that asshole putting his hands on Riley—marring that pale, soft skin and trying to beat that bold spirit into submission. He could imagine Riley fighting back, maybe jumping in to protect her mother or sister, which would only make her a bigger target for her abuser’s rage. Anger twisted in Josiah’s gut. He wondered if stepdaddy would want to stick around the house, either, if somebody bigger and stronger like him planted a big fist in his face.
The Latino detective had a lot more experience on undercover ops than Josiah did. He could read a lot in Josiah’s brooding silence. “Is Ms. Riley going to be a problem for you?”
“No, sir.” When he saw his clenched fist on the arm of the chair, Josiah forced himself to relax that vengeful ire he felt. Riley was gone. She was safe now. She wasn’t his concern. She was just a glitch in the investigation, a temptation that could no longer get under his skin. He would bury his regrets and focus on the job he needed to do. “What about her sister, Megan?” Josiah asked.
“Missing person report filed four days ago. Gone forty-eight hours before that. Straight-A student. Community volunteer. No record of her ever being abused by the stepfather. She called 9-1-1 on Fusco a week ago, said he’d struck her mother. But she wasn’t there when the investigating officer showed up for a follow-up interview the next day.”
Two sisters—the angel and the devil. So why would a kid like that run away? Had Fusco threatened her? Had she answered an ad, seeing it as a way out? If she had the looks Riley possessed, she’d probably been approached before by men telling her she was pretty. Riley clearly had street smarts—she’d see a scam like a phony modeling agency a mile away. But would her innocent little sister? Especially if she was upset and on her own for the first time?
“I have to get inside those back rooms.”
A.J. agreed. “Buzz on the street is that something is going down at After Dark this weekend.”
“I’ve heard it, too. It may be our last chance to break the case open.” And then a flash of dark red hair on one of the monitors caught his eye. Son of a bitch. Doreen Riley waltzed through the front door in stiletto boots and a blue-jean miniskirt, sashaying herself across the room as if she thought she belonged here. She chatted up the regular bartender and headed to the back of the club. “I guess she’s not used to men telling her no.”
“What’s that?” A.J. asked.
Josiah was already pushing his way out of the security office and striding down the hallway. “I’ve got to go, boss.”
“Your shift’s starting?”
“Yeah. I’m about to get real busy.” He had Riley in his sights the moment she stepped into the back hallway. Those pure-green eyes met his and widened. But then she tilted her chin and kept on walking toward him, as if neither his warning last night nor that explosive kiss had made any dent in her foolhardy determination. “I’ll check in tomorrow, A.J. Sooner, if I find out anything new.”
“You need backup for anything, remember I’m a speed-dial away.”
“Yes, sir.” Josiah locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket.
He propped his hands on his hips and waited, blocking the width of the hallway and the entrance to the women’s dressing room. At least she had the good sense to stop instead of thinking she was going to breeze right past him. Riley shook those long auburn waves down her back, and an answering desire stirred behind his zipper. But Josiah ignored both the helpless male response to her siren’s call, and the argument forming on her ruby-red lips.
“You. Me. Back alley. Now.”
She wisely pressed those full lips shut as he took her by the arm and escorted her to the back door. Except for the guard at Slade Russell’s penthouse elevator, and the one at the top of the stairs, the hallway was clear. Although the two men would have to be blind not to notice Riley’s sexy getup, Russell’s men didn’t care where Josiah went, as long as he didn’t cross into their territory.
He pulled Riley out the steel door with him, needing the swirling October breeze and bits of leaves and debris nipping at his skin to cool his emotions.
Was he angry? Relieved? Worried? Horny?
Apparently any and all of those.
“You can’t be here.” He released her and shoved the door shut behind them, giving a quick glance up and down the alley to make sure they were alone.
She turned on the pointy toes of those killer boots she wore. “Josiah, please. If I promise—”
And then he had her by the shoulders, pulling her to him, winding his arms behind her and pulling her in tighter until he felt the soft nap of her sweater squash into his shirt, and tighter yet until the firm mounds of her breasts pillowed against his chest. When they were hip to hip and thigh to thigh and her silky hair was tumbling back over his hands and arms, he
captured her mouth beneath his.
It was impulsive. It was stupid.
It was delicious.
He silenced her protest into a hum, pulling the full curve of her lower lip between his and licking the tangy red lipstick off her mouth. And then with a quick gasp, her lips softened, parted beneath his. Riley’s sweet tongue darted into his mouth, demanded she be an equal partner in this incendiary kiss. She slipped her arms around his neck and palmed the back of his head, kneading the taut skin there, pulling herself farther into the embrace. Denim rubbed against denim, creating friction and heat. Easily taking her weight in his arms, Josiah altered his stance slightly, letting the soft indention between her thighs nestle right against the interest stirring down south. He tangled one hand in the thick length of her hair and slid the other one over the curve of her hip to squeeze that perfect round bottom and lift her into the hardening swell of his cock.
This brash, beautiful woman made him hot fast. All he could think of was putting his hands on her cool skin and getting inside her.
His fingertips had found the elastic edge of a silky panty and slipped inside before he heard his drill sergeant father’s voice shouting in his ear—Josiah Emerson Kemp! Focus on the goal here!
Badge. A.J. depending on him. Women missing. Job to do.
With a ruthless shot of self-preservation, Josiah grasped Riley by the nip of her waist and set her at arm’s length. Her hands braced against his biceps as he pushed her away and tugged the hem of her skirt back down to her thighs. Her breathing was deep and erratic, her balance a little unsteady. Her cheeks had flushed with color and her red lipstick was smeared or gone. He held on to her for a few seconds while she steadied her breathing.
Who was he kidding? He was the one who was still swaying on his feet.
And the bewitching siren knew it. She dabbed at the makeup around her mouth as she twisted from his grasp. “You need to make up your mind, big guy. You can’t keep telling me to go away and then kiss me like that.”
Josiah scrubbed his palm across his mouth and jaw, futilely trying to erase the taste of her from his lips, before he pointed an accusing finger at her. “You are in my head, woman, and I can’t have that. I have a job to do. You are the one person here I know isn’t part of Russell’s organization. I can’t be thinking about you like that when you’re here, or even worse, be worried about you.”
Those pale pink lips smiled and she reached up to gently touch his face. “Are you really worried about me, Josiah? That’s sweet.” Him? Sweet? Even as he frowned his disbelief at the crazy notion, she play-slapped his cheek. “Get over it. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I’m here by my own choice. I am not your responsibility.”
“I have to keep an eye on you. You know my secret.”
“And you know mine.” She walked back to the door. A stab of guilt burst the last bubble of passion in him. Riley was talking about her search for her sister. He wasn’t ready to tell her how much about her troubled past he already knew. She’d left out the details about her stepfather and working the streets for a reason, and he had to respect that. “Are you going to let me back in?” she asked with a teasing laugh. “Or was that your idea of a goodbye kiss?”
“You really think your sister is involved in something here?”
She had her hand on the door handle, waiting for him to insert his key in the lock. “I’m guessing you’re a better cop than that. You know there’s something going on here. I won’t let Megan be a part of it.”
Ah, hell. He wasn’t about to say this, was he? Truth was, he hadn’t been able to do this on his own, and time was running out to get the answers that could break this case wide open. Josiah needed an advantage—a secret weapon—to get his investigation moving forward again. And he was staring right at it. “Do you think you can charm your way past the guards and get into one of those rooms upstairs?”
The proud posture of Riley’s shoulders jerked, as if the request had startled her. She quickly turned and looked up at him. The light beside the door revealed surprise, confusion, and maybe just a little bit of hope in those pretty green eyes. It was the most real show of emotion he’d seen there yet. “I can try. I served them drinks at break time last night. And I think one of them likes me.”
Go figure. A knife of jealousy hit him in the gut. But he squeezed his eyes shut for a second to quash the emotion. He had to focus on the bigger picture here.
But without the pretense, without the bright makeup, Riley’s expression was soft, natural, and her face went from stunningly beautiful to a warm kind of pretty that tugged at something more than his cock. Oh, man, he was in trouble here. “You’ll be taking a huge risk. I’ll protect you as best I can. But if it gets dicey, you beat it out of there. If one of them threatens you in any way, don’t—”
She splayed her hand on his chest, and the beat of his heart leaped to meet her soothing touch. “I’ll do it. For Megan’s sake, I have to. Besides, I suspect the beauty will have a better shot at charming her way past closed doors than the beast would.”
He covered her hand with his, glimpsing for a moment the vulnerable woman beneath the irresistible bad girl facade. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the fairy tale type.”
“I’m not. But others may see us that way.” With a blink of her long lashes, the ballsy attitude returned. “I’m willing to take advantage of their sympathies if it’ll get me closer to what I want. Er, what we want.”
Finally conceding that it was better to have this headstrong woman on his side rather than working against him, Josiah shook his head. “Give me your phone.”
When she hesitated, questioning him with the arch of an auburn eyebrow, he simply reached for the purse hanging over her shoulder. She batted his hand away, then stuck her hand inside herself to pull out her cell. “Why do you need it?”
He pulled up her contacts list and typed in his name and number. He had all of KCPD ready to back him up. She needed to know, at the very least, that she had him.
“There.” He echoed A.J. Rodriguez’s promise to him. “Now I’m just a speed-dial away if you need help. Keep it in your pocket so it’s on you at all times.” The breeze whipped a tendril of auburn hair beneath her chin and Josiah caught it, twirling it around his fingertip before tucking it behind her ear. “You may be taking point on gathering the information we need, but I’ve got your back, okay?”
“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“I swear on my badge, Riley. We’re a team now. You are not in this alone. Understand?” She nodded, but he still wasn’t sure if that independent spirit of hers believed. Still, he wasn’t about to go all warm and fuzzy on her to make his point. The clock was ticking. “We’d better get inside. The front of the club should be open by now.”
“Thank you. For not throwing me out again.”
He grinned. “You’d have found another way in.”
Riley smiled back. “I would have. But it feels good to know you decided to trust me.”
Josiah grunted, reaching around her to unlock door. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just figured it’d be easier to keep an eye on you than to worry about what fool stunt you’d try to pull next.”
With that cautionary truce, she laughed. Then she stretched up on tiptoe and planted a titillatingly brief kiss on his mouth. “You’re not as mean as you look, Josiah Kemp.”
“Yeah, I am.” He pulled open the door, spanked her butt and followed her inside. “Now get to work.”
Chapter Five
Riley exhaled a deep breath as the door to the club closed behind her. She allowed herself a moment to savor the relative quiet of the brick hallway behind the stage.
She’d been working four nights at After Dark now, and all she had to show for it were pinched toes and sore calf muscles from the high-heeled shoes and boots that were necessary to maintain the sexy image that had gotten her hired in the first place, several healthy deposits of tips she didn’t care about into her bank account, and an itch sh
e couldn’t quite seem to scratch when it came to her dealings with Josiah Kemp.
She shouldn’t feel so pleased when she caught him watching her in the club. She shouldn’t look forward to their private conversations in the back alley, which inevitably led to an argument over how slowly their investigation was progressing, and how she was no closer to finding her sister.
Riley was accustomed to reading the male of the species like a book. There was security in knowing what to expect. Most men were pretty basic—they thought with their stomach, their wallet or their dick—and she was pretty good at deciphering those impulses and learning how to use them to her advantage. They wanted pleasure or power or both.
But Josiah Kemp was different. Sure, now that she’d stuck her nose into the middle of his investigation and gotten his full attention, there was no mistaking the chemistry between them. But in a lot of ways, he was still hard to read—and harder to maintain any advantage over. His kisses were powerful and raw, lacking finesse, and maybe the hottest turn-on and truest compliment a woman could receive. When he looked at her, touched her, there was no control. Getting caught up in Josiah’s embrace was a wild and scary ride.
Maybe her man-eating skills were off with him because of her worries about Megan. Or maybe in a few short days the big guy had done what no other man had. He’d called her bluff. She couldn’t play her usual games where she could almost always guarantee she’d come out the winner. He demanded honesty—in words, passion, teamwork. He demanded commitment—to a cause if not necessarily to him. He demanded she be real with him.
Real laughter. Real kisses. Real feelings.
Real trust.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t ready to go that far, yet. Getting real with a man wasn’t exactly in her comfort zone. Nothing made a woman more vulnerable than trust. Trusting that her mother would protect her, trusting that her stepfather wouldn’t hurt her in the first place had nearly killed her. Trusting men she’d met on the streets had been short-lived, too. Although she’d picked up some valuable survival skills, like learning to distinguish crazy safe from crazy dangerous, when to fight and when to hide out or run, and where the most effective place to ram a heel, fist or knee might be, the smartest lesson she’d learned was that if she didn’t completely trust anyone, then she’d never trust the wrong person again.