by Julie Miller
Riley willingly fell into step beside him. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“You’re lying.” Both Josiah and Riley turned, but Opal had directed the comment straight to her. She strode up in her three-inch pumps and smacked her hand against Riley’s hip.
“Hey!” Oh, my God. The woman was patting her down—and not being too friendly about it. She swatted Opal’s hands away from the pockets of her skirt and apron. Hadn’t she been pawed enough for one night? “Leave me alone.”
Josiah stuck his big hand between the two women, urging Opal back. “She didn’t do anything.”
“I’m not so sure.” Josiah might have to force her to keep her distance, but Opal’s cobalt-blue eyes simply took over the search, instead. “I don’t trust this one.”
Slade Russell walked up beside Opal, injecting a voice of authority and reason into the catfight tension bouncing off the brick walls. “Just because she flirted with Rocky doesn’t make her the enemy. Not every woman is a threat.”
“I’m just making sure she hasn’t helped herself to something she shouldn’t.” As if spurred on by the reminder of her thuggish boyfriend’s wandering eye, Opal ignored both the boss and the big man between them and pulled the cash wad from Riley’s cleavage. “Like this.” She pointed the roll of hundreds at Riley. “Have you been in my office?”
“No.” Riley snatched it back. “That’s a tip I earned.” Not that she wanted Lawrence’s dirty money, but she was damned if this woman was going to threaten her anymore. She’d been bullied one too many times already tonight. Besides, as shaky as she was feeling right now, Riley knew she still had a part to play. And a down-on-her-luck woman who’d begged for this job would never let that kind of money go without a fight. She tipped her face to argue to Slade, who seemed more reasonable. “I didn’t steal that money from the club or anyone here. I took Mary Sue’s advice about being friendly with the customers. It really does pay off.”
Ignoring both the steaming blonde and the bouncer who outweighed him by a good eighty pounds, Slade pulled Riley’s hand through the crook of his arm, and urged her to walk down the hallway beside him. “You get back to work, Doreen, and make me some money, too. Opal and I go back a long way, so she’s naturally very protective of me. I’ll settle her down. Don’t worry.”
She squeezed her thanks into the worsted wool of his suit jacket. Although the last thing she wanted to do was put Lawrence’s money against her skin again, she stayed in character and folded the cash into her bra. “I can keep the tip?”
Slade paused and glanced up at Danny behind them. What did this guy know? Were there more hidden cameras that even Josiah didn’t know about that had given her away? But Slade gently patted her hand. “As long as you only earned it for serving drinks. I take pride in running a legal establishment here.”
Ironic much? Riley bit down on the sarcasm teasing her tongue. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Doreen…” He nudged the collar of her sweater aside and traced his smooth fingertip along her collarbone. “Wear a little more makeup or a turtleneck tomorrow. Marks like these make my customers uncomfortable. I don’t want to see them again.”
She jerked away from his touch. Not one word of concern or curiosity or support? Smooth charm aside, she knew a threat when she heard one.
“I’ll remember that.” He did know something was going on. But did he know the truth about where she’d been and what she’d done? Did he know about Megan and Riley’s search for her sister? Could he even suspect that Josiah was a cop?
She slipped a look back to Josiah.
“Riley?” His eyes narrowed with an unspoken question, Josiah moved to follow her out the door.
But Slade stepped between them. “I need to talk to you about some extra security duties tomorrow night.”
“I report to Rocky, sir.”
The door shut on Slade’s reminder that he was the boss. “Well, he isn’t here right now, so you come upstairs and chat with me.”
A shot of that same concern that had lined Josiah’s face pulsed through her blood. But she knew it was unwise to stay backstage any longer without arousing more suspicions than she already had. Shoving her fear and worry down inside that little box of emotions that refused to stay locked anymore, she inhaled a deep breath and strode back into the heart of the club.
The first thing Riley did when she got to Lawrence’s empty table was pull the pen from her apron and write 4-1-5-7-9 on the palm of her hand. The second thing she did was grab her tray and dive back into work, determined to be so busy for the next two hours that no one would suspect she’d done anything but her job tonight. Plus, she’d be too exhausted to think of Lawrence Houser’s or Danny’s or Slade Russell’s or even Opal Cunningham’s hands crawling over her skin, helping themselves to her body.
It was nearly closing time when a customer she’d been serving most of the night slipped a ten into her rear pocket and let his palm linger on her butt. Enough. Riley slapped his hand away and turned on him. “Don’t touch me, you drunken letch! Go home to your wife, already.”
The man’s stunned face barely registered before Josiah swooped in, sliding his arm around her waist and walking her to the front door.
“You’re done for the night.” He waved Tammy over from the bar to cover her tables.
Riley tried to stop and pull away. Sort of. He plucked her tray from her fingers and handed it off to another waitress. Although she made a token grab to get it back, she kept walking. “I have to serve my drinks for last call.”
“Not tonight.”
“Josiah, people will think that you and me—”
“Let them.”
When he pulled her out the door beside him, she shuddered at the dampness that chilled the air. She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down to her wrists, trying not to flash back to the nights when a sweater had been all the warmth she could afford, trying not to picture Megan out on a night like this as winter crept into the autumn air. Josiah moved his arm up to her shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down her arm and holding her snug against his warmth. They turned a corner on the sidewalk and she walked faster to keep up with his long strides. And damn it, she was leaning against him. Letting him hold her up and keep her warm.
Riley meant to push herself away, but wound up curling her fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt. He was sending her home, and she didn’t have the strength to fight him. “Do you still have the card I stole from Danny?”
“Yes. But we’ll talk about that later.”
“And the key code? I can get us back into the room.”
He hugged her a little tighter. “Tomorrow, Riley.”
“What about my purse? I need my keys to drive.”
“No, you don’t.”
They crossed the street away from her car and headed toward a Harley-Davidson parked against the curb. “Where are we going?”
“A place where we don’t have to play these undercover parts anymore. You’re crashing, sweetheart, and I can’t have that happen here. I’ve asked you to do too much, haven’t I. I’m sorry.” Leaving her shivering on the curb, he handed her a helmet and straddled the bike. “Climb on.” When she hesitated, he held out his hand to her. “I’ve got your back, sweetheart. Trust me.”
Doreen Riley didn’t trust anybody.
But the plea in those whiskey-brown eyes, the patience in that outstretched hand, told her that maybe this time—with this man—she could make an exception.
Chapter Eight
“I need you to make love to me.”
As soon as Josiah locked his apartment door behind him, Riley had her arms around his neck and was practically crawling up his body. She kissed her way along his neck, stirring his pulse with an excitement that thundered in his ears when she tugged against his scalp and pulled his mouth down to hers.
Josiah willingly took his fill of her wet, pliant lips. He let his hands roam over her curves and slide beneath her sweater to roam all over them again. She unhooked his belt an
d tugged at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up his torso, igniting his skin with every sweep of her hands. She drove her tongue into his mouth and nipped at the tip of his chin. He raised his arms so she could pull his shirt off and toss it aside. Then he had her in his arms again. He palmed her butt and lifted her onto her toes, kissing her mouth, her long neck, the soft swells of each breast bunching at the neckline of her sweater, whatever his lips could reach. Her fingertips dug into muscle and her nails flicked over his nipples. He groaned as every part of his body leaped to attention.
They’d taken the highway across town on his motorcycle and he’d loved the night air whipping across his exposed skin, and the warm woman hugged around his body. For a fast few miles in the open air, it was just the two of them alone in the city. No bad guys. No threats. No protocol to obey. No fear she’d be hurt. No undercover investigation or burgeoning feelings to confound him or feel guilty about.
Josiah had been a man with the right woman on the right bike. And for ten miles on the open road, life had been pretty close to perfect. He’d hoped Riley could use the time to cool her jets, too. She might think she was impervious to emotions, but he’d seen veteran cops crack under the pressure of undercover work. He’d watched the cool redhead come close to losing it more than once tonight. No matter how badly she wanted to help her sister, agreeing to serve as his inside man, so to speak, at the club had been a rough assignment. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back to plunder her sweet, sexy mouth. And with Riley answering him kiss for kiss, touch for touch—and more often than not, even leading the way in this fiery embrace—he felt like they were still flying on his Harley.
Maybe the night ride hadn’t cooled anything at all. She unsnapped his jeans and eased the zipper down over the bulge there. She pushed his jeans back on his hips and his erection popped out in a tent of tartan plaid cotton. Riley glanced down, arched an auburn brow and licked her lips. “Boxers. That’s different. Pretty basic.” And then she closed her hand around him, cotton and all. “I love it.”
“Whoa. Slow down, baby.” Despite the eager instinct to thrust himself into the warm grip of her hand, Josiah clasped her shoulders and pulled his hips back. “I’d like to at least make it to the couch.”
“Then let’s go.” With a glance behind her to find the sectional sofa in the middle of the living room, Riley tugged on his belt that had fallen to the middle of his buttocks, urging him to follow.
“What’s the rush?” Josiah was a lot to drag across the room, but Riley was determined. He stumbled after her, reaching for the hem of her sweater. “I haven’t even got you naked yet.”
When she suddenly stopped, Josiah sucked in a steadying breath and leaned in for another kiss. Yeah, he was ready, willing and able, but if this was going to be his one-night stand with Riley, he wanted to savor every minute of it. He had a feeling this bossy, complicated redhead was going to be a hard one to forget.
But she turned away before their lips ever met and shucked the pink sweater off over her head, revealing miles of creamy skin and a red-lace bra that zinged right to his groin and made his half-dressed state feel like a straightjacket. And while he reached out to trace the lacy edge of that sexy bra over the mound of each breast, she unzipped her skirt and pushed it over her hips. With the same bold finger, he followed the pattern of the lace down to the nubby tip that strained against the material. Josiah smiled at her helpless gasp, and rolled the tight pearl between his thumb and forefinger. “You like that?”
In answer, she pushed his hand away. Her skirt had barely hit the floor before she hooked her heel behind his knee and slipped her fingers inside the elastic of his boxers to squeeze his bottom and pull them together, skin to skin. As he grabbed a handful of those sweet cheeks tucked inside her lacy red panties, she rubbed the heat between her legs against his swollen member.
“Is this what you want? Now, Josiah. Take me.” She peppered his chest with kisses, gently teethed his taut male nipples. His skin quivered in response. His blood hammered in his temples. Oh, hell. He was on a short leash here. The dampness of her panties seeped into the cotton of his shorts and he bucked against her warm, wet, wanton invitation. “That’s it, big guy. I want your smell on my skin and your taste in my mouth. I want to feel you all over me. Inside me.”
“Shit, baby.” The words alone were going to make him come. With a monumental effort, he mentally and physically retreated. He grabbed her thigh and pulled away from the intimate contact. “If we don’t slow this down, it’s not going to be good for either one of us.”
She whimpered when he grasped her by the hips and put a few more inches of space between them. “I don’t want it slow.” Her hair fell around her face, hiding her expression as she switched seduction tactics and pulled his belt from the belt loops on his jeans. “I’ve had the wind blowing up my skirt for the past ten miles and a lot of strong, warm man between my legs. Not to mention that big machine we were riding. A girl can’t get any hornier.”
He caught her by the wrists when she tried to drop his jeans. “You’re good for my ego, but can’t a man at least take his boots off? And I think the condom in my wallet might be a good idea.”
“You’re right, of course.” Then she was behind him, grabbing his ass and pulling out his wallet. He felt the pant of every hot breath on his back, and it sped his own breathing. Every touch, accidental or intentional, added fuel to the fire burning inside him. But there were certain things a man liked to do for himself—especially if he wanted this to be more than a hand job. He had a feeling that if her fingers so much as brushed against his heavy cock, this lovemaking session would be over.
And he wasn’t going to leave her wanting. She’d already tossed his wallet onto the sofa when he plucked the condom wrapper from her shaking fingers. “Allow me.”
“Yes. Do it.” She bent over to unzip her leather boots and toe them off her feet. The plain-white cotton socks that followed were unexpected and endearing. Somehow they seemed to make the irresistible siren a little more approachable. Even for a man like him. He reached over to turn on a lamp beside the sectional, then grinned like a teenager when he looked down at the pear-shaped perfection of her wiggling bottom displayed in the lacy red confection. “God, you are beaut—”
“Don’t.” She stood up straight, tossing the last sock and pushing him into the sofa cushions. She’d climbed onto his lap before he could finish the compliment. “Don’t say that.”
“But—” She pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing the truth. She grabbed his hands and placed them exactly where he wanted them to be. He squeezed her bottom and lifted her, bringing her breast to his mouth. One second he was tonguing crimson lace and the proud beads straining for release, the next second, she froze. “Riley? Hey.”
She wasn’t panting. Her breathing was too irregular. It stuttered between gasps and sniffles.
The fingers digging into his shoulders weren’t shaking with nerves or excitement. Not unless the trembling of her chin and lips meant the same thing. They didn’t. Josiah framed her face between his hands and tilted it up to see his ugly mug reflected in the sheen of tears that glistened in her eyes.
Ah, hell. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this.” She sat back, hugging her arms in front of her, and would have scrambled away entirely if he hadn’t clamped his hands behind her back and held her in place. Her red-rimmed gaze dropped to the evidence of his desire pulsing inside his shorts. “Or maybe I can.”
“You need to talk to me.”
“No. I just need to do. You prefer doing to watching, too. Remember?” With a renewed determination to complete the frantic seduction, she thrust her fingers into the hair on his chest, clutching at him. “Put your hands on me. Please.”
It wasn’t a hardship to slide his hand along the smooth skin of her thighs where she straddled him. But he could tell something wasn’t right here. And the last thing he wanted was for her to regret having sex with him. “Look, I
know tonight was rough on you. Having to act and react like someone you’re not really screws up our normal emotional releases. If I’d known Mertz was into anything kinky, I never would have let you—”
“Stop talking.” Riley rose up on her knees and pressed a dozen trembling kisses along his cheekbone and nose and jaw, tracing a determined path toward his mouth. “Kiss me like you did in the alley,” she begged, winding her arms around his neck. “I know it’ll be good between us.” But his interest was already flagging, his desire tamped down by his growing concern. “Only you can make this go away. Please. I just need to forget for a while.”
“Forget what?” Josiah felt the tremor in her lips. He pulled her arms from his neck and sat up, tumbling her onto his lap. “Make what go away? Baby, what happened? Did I hurt you?”
“Don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t. I just…” She batted at the tattoo on his bicep, then softly traced the tangled lines as if she thought she needed to soothe the beast she’d once called him. “My mind’s not in a good place for this. I’ve been off all night. I didn’t want to play Danny’s erotic game and my stepfather…” Suddenly, the circle of dark-blue barbed wire was imminently fascinating to her as her hushed explanation took a left turn into the past. “He tried to get with me that night…”
“What?” Every curse word he knew curled Josiah’s tongue. If he and Sal Fusco ever met, Josiah’s badge would be in jeopardy. Instead of venting his anger, though, he brushed aside a wave of auburn hair that had stuck to the moisture on her cheek. “What made you think of that bastard?”
“You didn’t read that in the background check, did you?” Riley hugged her arms beneath her breasts again, and sniffed back her tears. “Nobody reported…I just…left. If they wouldn’t do anything when he slapped or punched or threw me across a room, they weren’t going to help when he…” Her eyes widened as if she was seeing a vivid nightmare again. Josiah’s heart lurched in his chest. He stroked her hair, stroked her skin, willed her to come back to his modest living room on this dark autumn night. Then she blinked and tried to smile. “I never looked back. Except for Megan. I kept in touch with her. We always could talk.”