by S. M. Butler
Irish. Definitely Irish.
The light growl in his voice melted her insides. How did he do that? He smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth. She’d never seen a man so… she couldn’t even explain what he did to her, besides the very telltale quiver between her thighs as he leaned toward her.
“Hello,” she squeaked out.
“I’m Jordan,” he said, holding out his hand toward her. Slowly she took it, his big hand enveloping hers completely.
“Penny,” she said. His hand was warm, almost too hot. Firm and yet, soft like he was trying not to hurt her.
Josey shoved her stool back and stood. Penny wrenched her head around as Josey shouldered her purse. “You know, I think I see my next ex-boyfriend over there.”
“Josey!” Penny protested, but she wasn’t listening. Her hips swayed as she walked down the bar to where some guy with a whole lot of piercings, dyed black hair, and some band on his t-shirt sat. She struck up a conversation immediately, as if she’d been born to do it all her life. It was something that Penny had always envied Josey’s ability to do. She’d never met a stranger. She’d never met anyone that didn’t like her.
When she turned back to the man beside her, his bright, turquoise eyes were focused completely on her. She marveled at the storm within them, wondering what this man’s life was like that he had that kind of energy caged inside him.
“She’s not so subtle, is she?”
Penny shook her head. “Subtle and Josey do not go in the same sentence.”
He moved his arm across the top of the bar, bringing his body closer to her. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, and she resisted the urge to close her eyes so she could concentrate on that scent of his. It was spicy and comforting at the same time. She wasn’t even sure how that was possible. Maybe she was more intoxicated than she thought. “So, where were we, birthday girl?”
“Um, I believe we introduced ourselves,” Penny said. His fingers grazed her arm. Even through her sweater, she had to resist the hot shudder of desire that rolled through her.
Gorgeous? Check.
Built? Check.
Able to turn her on with a mere flick of his fingers? Check.
“Would you like another shot?” he murmured. Immediately, she was imagining taking him back to the bathrooms, letting those big hands roam over her body while he took her lips with a punishing domination.
What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn’t like she was some virginal college student. She’d had sex a few times before. But this guy took sexual appeal to a whole new level and she wanted every inch of him touching her.
“Sure,” she said absently, as her gaze dipped to his lips, this time. He smiled at her, like he knew just what she was thinking, then turned away from her to call Cody over. A moment later, two shots and a couple beers sat on the bar for them.
He lifted the shot glass to her. She took it from him. He raised the other one to her. “To new friends and happy birthdays.”
They clinked glasses and downed the shots. Jordan followed his up with the beer. She wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he even made tipping back that beer sexy. Her body warmed as the liquid sloshed down her throat. Then she picked up the beer, sipping from the long neck.
Then his fingers grazed hers, sending electrical shocks straight up her arms and down to the apex of her thighs. Seriously, how did he manage to create this reaction in her?
Jordan smiled, this time without teeth, but it was almost triumphant. “Dance with me?”
“I’m not that good at dancing.”
“Neither am I,” he said.
Somehow, she doubted that. The way the man moved, with such grace and intentional precision… she was sure he was definitely good at dancing. Among other things… things she wanted to explore with him.
“I feel like you’re bad news,” she blurted out then immediately felt stupid and turned away from him.
But he hooked his index finger under her chin and lifted up, so she gazed directly into those intense, storm-filled turquoise eyes. “I’m the guy your ma warned you about. Which is what I think you want.”
“How would you know what I want?”
He shrugged, but his eyes never left hers. “I’m mostly hoping, I think.” He stood up, pushing the stool in toward the bar, and held his hand out to her. “Come on. Dance with me.”
This was beyond stupid, seeing as how he affected her now. But before she knew what she was doing, she put her palm in his and allowed him to help her to her feet. She adjusted her purse so it was across her chest as he pulled her across the floor.
His eyes were so bright and focused, it almost seemed like they were glowing in the darkness. Or maybe that was just the black lights hanging all around the place. He let go of her hand, but only to rest his on her hips, pulling her close, up against his hard body. His scent overwhelmed her, so strong of spice and cinnamon. A silver chain circled his neck that she hadn’t caught before, disappearing into his ridiculous shirt.
They danced through two songs together, slowly learning how each other moved, slowly gaining a rhythm that matched the others. His leg made it between hers, pulling them closer together. Then when a third, more sultry song came on, he pressed his hand against the small of her back, his other on her waist, and pulled her all the way against him.
All she could see was him, smell that cinnamon-sweet male scent, and feel the hard planes of his body. Her hands rested on his upper arms, both pure muscle beneath her fingertips.
“And you said you didn’t dance,” he murmured at her ear. His breath tickled the light wisps of hair around her hairline.
She glanced at him, his face mere centimeters from hers. “So did you, if you will recall.”
He chuckled, the vibration of the sound coursing all through her body. “Yes, well, when you have a good partner…”
As he trailed off, her cheeks heated. Then his head dipped to her shoulder and he gently pressed his lips to her neck. Her body went full-on tremble, her knees going so weak, she was afraid that she’d fall if he let go of her.
His lips rested against her ear. “I’d like to kiss you properly. Let’s take a breather in the back.”
The back? She glanced at him in confusion. He nodded toward the back of the bar, toward the VIP area. She blinked. “What’s back there?”
“Special accommodations,” he murmured, his eyes burning into hers. He pressed her against his hips as they danced, the hard ridge of an erection pressing against her stomach.
She glanced over at Josey, who was not even looking in her direction. Her body was pressed up against Pierced Guy, her smile soft like she had a secret. If Josey was here, in this situation, what would she do?
That was easy. Josey would be leading this guy to the back.
She turned back to Jordan, who was waiting patiently for her answer. “What if I said something stupid like ‘will you still respect me in the morning?’” She was instantly sorry the second the words came out of her mouth, but the alcohol was kicking in and her filter was off galivanting somewhere with her good sense.
Jordan laughed, his fingertips sliding up her rib cage to her neck. His eyes burned with intensity as his fingers rested just beneath her sweater, playing with the strap of her dress. “I’ll respect you in the morning, in the evening, anywhere and anytime you want, love.”
“Let’s go,” she replied, her voice husky.
A wide grin split his lips. Without letting go of her hand, he led her toward the cordoned off area. He waved to the bouncers, sliding his palm against one of theirs, and they released the rope to let the two of them in.
Penny raised a brow. “You’ve done this before.”
“A time or two,” he admitted as he pulled her back into his arms and walked her backward. “They look the other way when people fuck in the bathrooms, but I find that nasty. Here, it’s dark, it’s clean, and private.” He smiled. “And there’s no one peeing in the urinal next to us.”
As her back hit the wall, she gasped. She
looked around them, seeing the bodies gyrate out on the main floor. The backs of the bouncers standing at the opening of the rope. In the corner, there was another couple already well on their way to home plate. Two women in another section feeling each other up. One of them slid a hand under the other’s skirt.
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.”
She frowned, turning back to Jordan. “What?”
His big palm slid along her neck, his thumb at her jaw, gently stroking her like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. She leaned her head back, reveling in the feel of his rough hands touching her heated skin. “You look nervous. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. But if you say no, at any point, we stop, yeah?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
He dipped his head, all too happy to oblige and then she was soaring. His lips were firm, demanding, and hot. Sandwiching hers, he coaxed his tongue into her, penetrating her mouth. He slid his tongue along hers, his mouth opening with a moan. Gently, he slid his hands down to her hips, to the outside of her thighs. He fisted the fabric of her skirt, his fingers brushing against her bare skin. Her body shuddered.
He broke off with a light gasp of air and leaned against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla overwhelmed her while his big body pressed against her. “Will you let me touch you?”
“I—” His tropical eyes burned with heat and desire. Oh, yes, he did want her, and the strength of his willpower to hold back from taking what he wanted just made him so much sexier.
“Don’t make me beg for it. Tell me yes,” he whispered. She glanced at the entrance to the section, but the bouncers weren’t looking in. Around them, soft moans and the clap of flesh striking together filled the air, even as music boomed beyond them. God, who was she? Making out with a guy she just met, considering letting him fuck her against the wall? “Do you want me, Penny? Would you like me to touch you?”
Her blood was rushing with renewed desire as his hand slid over her flat stomach back down to her thigh.
“I promise, darling, you’ll love what I do to you.”
She met his eyes as he pulled back, tilting up her chin so she could meet his gaze. “Prove it.”
He growled something she couldn’t understand and closed the distance between them, sealing his mouth over hers once more.
3
Those two little words hit him straight in the groin. He wasn’t even aware of what he said in reply. He just closed the distance, pressing his mouth to hers. The first taste of Penny hit Jordan’s lips and he thought he died all over again. The way she molded herself against him sent electricity straight to his cock.
Fuck.
He’d never tasted anything as sweet as those lips. Sure, he tasted the alcohol she’d had in the bar. None of that mattered but the warmth of her lips. The sweetness of her skin intoxicated him more than any adult beverage could ever.
He closed his hand around her thigh, sliding up under her skirt until he felt the flesh of her ass, with only her soft underwear between his hand and her skin. She moaned against his mouth, her lips parting as they kissed. He thrust his tongue forward, taking, demanding.
Jesus. How amazing would she sound when she came if this is how she sounded now? He was dying to find out. Though he’d used this section to fuck women in the past, to get just a little bit of the edge off, he didn’t want to do that here now. Not with her.
He slid his hands up over her hips to her ribs and kept going until his thumbs rested near the underside of her breasts. He felt the wire beneath his thumbs and his fingers itched to feel the soft flesh in his hands.
They stared at each other, both of them panting. Her lipstick was mussed, her sweater around her elbows instead of her shoulders. For a long moment, they said nothing, and then her leg lifted, and her heel pressed against his ass, pressing his hips against her.
He groaned as his erection brushed against her body, feeling the heat of her even from where they stood. He wanted to continue, to take her right there against the wall, but that was the animal in him. More than anything, he wanted to take his time with her, feel every inch of her smooth skin.
But she seemed to have other ideas. Her tongue slid along his throat, all the way up to his ear where she sucked on the lobe for a brief second. He groaned out his frustration, needing to be in her, but also needing to not take her in public. It wasn’t just that he wanted to take his time, though that was pretty much all he was thinking about. He also had to get that damn key card.
He slid his hand up to her breasts, cupping them through the blue fabric. Her head fell back, a light moan escaping her lips. He pressed his lips to hers, once, more gently than the demanding way he’d taken her lips before. Then he brushed his fingertips along her jaw. “You hungry?”
Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, but they met his with a steadiness that normally would have made him uncomfortable in any other situation. Like she could see straight through him. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes as she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about food right now.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to fuck you in the back of a club. I want to take my time. I want to learn every inch of your body. I want to hear you scream my name and that’s not going to happen here.”
“You sure have a way with words,” she whispered. He almost didn’t catch it, the music of the club booming all around them. But with that Reapers matrix in his body, hearing wasn’t an issue. “What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a place next door,” he said. “I’d like to sit and talk to you, if that’s all right.”
She nodded. “Okay. Just let me tell my friend I’m leaving.”
With the most effort he had ever had to muster, he pulled away from her. The club wasn’t cool, not with the heat of writhing bodies and the exertion of the sex happening around them, but he hadn’t realized how much heat the two of them had generated on their own until cooler air hit his body when they separated.
This wasn’t what he’d intended tonight. He’d been following her for days. He knew all her routines, and this was the only break in the routine he’d seen. Who knew when he’d get another shot? And yet… he was putting off the job long enough to be with her skin to skin.
He’d thought he’d gotten used to being a Reaper, of knowing that there was no forever for him. Thanks to the Reaper matrix, he was a dead man walking. There would be no woman who could possibly want anything he could offer, and no woman should, so long as she was in her right mind.
But that was true long before he’d accepted the Reaper matrix.
~*~*~
A few minutes later, they were sitting in a booth with two plates of tacos and a mountain of chips in a basket between them. Around them, people were also having tacos, and some were drinking frozen margaritas. Conversation milled around them, incoherent to most, but he’d been trained to pick up pieces here and there. If he wanted, he could have zeroed in on that couple in the corner speaking in harsh, angry tones. Or those college-aged guys over there flirting and smiling together.
“Tell me something about you, Jordan,” Penny said.
As Jordan watched his little mouse, she opened her mouth and took a giant bite of her taco, the crunch of the shell sending bits of cheese and lettuce falling down to the plate. She glanced at him, a light brush of pink across her cheeks as she chewed, like she was embarrassed for him to have seen her have taken half that taco into her mouth.
“What would you like to know?” he asked her.
In the past, he’d gone out with supermodel wannabes, girls looking for rich husbands, girls just looking for a good sexual experience. And that was how he’d approached this at first. But… in that back area at the club, he’d realized something. He hadn’t expected Penny… He’d expected the mouse, Penelope, with wide-rimmed glasses and formless suits.
Penny was entirely new territory. He’d expected to have to get her d
runk, to volunteer to take her home and maybe drug her so she stayed passed out while he made the copy of the key card.
As many shots as she’d taken, he was surprised she was able to stand, much less wolf down those huge tacos without puking. She took a drink from the plastic straw and stared at him. That was another thing. When she looked at him, it was almost like she could see right through him.
But if she could do that, she’d have been running in the opposite direction.
“Anything. What do you do for work?”
Of course, that was her question. “I steal shit for a multi-billionaire bent on revenge” didn’t seem like a good response. Neither did “in my former life, I was an art thief.” He decided on one of his cover stories instead. “Mechanic.”
“Oh?” She glanced down at his hands. “You don’t look like a mechanic.”
“And what do you do?” Like he didn’t know, but he needed to get the focus off him. While he occasionally worked on the cars in Hawk’s Auto, that was more Axel’s territory. His calluses came from the secret job, where he did the dirty shit that Nathan made him do, like steal a key card from an innocent woman. But it hadn’t been Nathan giving the orders for this one, had it?
“I’m an administrative assistant. For an art gallery. Kind of lucked into it, honestly.”
“Luck?”
“I wanted to be an artist all my life. So, it’s fun to be working in a gallery and learning the process of artists getting their work featured in one.”
He almost laughed. She wanted to be an artist and he was an art thief. Well, former art thief, he supposed. Nathan had been very clear he couldn’t steal for fun anymore when he’d been recruited. No, now all his stealing had a higher purpose other than lining his back pockets.
“My family always wanted me to go into veterinary medicine,” she continued.
“What happened with that?” he leaned forward on his elbows. She fascinated him. He wasn’t often surprised. He’d always known what women wanted. Like his father, he’d made his living on it. And when stealing from the rich bitches lost its taste, he’d turned to real thievery.