He gave a short laugh. “Not your thing, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t relaxing. Sorry.”
Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. “Then I’ll have to give you a massage later.”
Desire ignited and burned away her jealousy. “That sounds tempting.” With a flirtatious tone, she added, “But I only go for full-body messages.”
He smiled against her temple. “That can be arranged.”
“And I want the full hour.”
The sexy stubble on his jaw scraped her cheek. “What if I feel like going longer?”
Sexual anticipation ignited her veins. “I’ll try to endure.”
“Once I get my hands you, you might not have a choice.” He squeezed her waist. “I’ll come by your house around seven.”
“I’ll write you into my appointment book,” she said with a coy smile.
His gaze turned smoky. “While you’re at it, cancel any other plans you have.”
“Oh, really?”
“I like to take my time.” His thumb slid beneath the waist of her leggings and traced her panty line. “I’m very thorough.”
Oh, my God, take me now. “I look forward to testing that theory.”
“Then I suggest you stop working for the day. Go home, get some rest.”
“Why?”
His eyes glittered with heated promise. “Because you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”
Chapter 6
As much as Trey had wanted to take Devon back to work, lead her up to his office, and defy several ethical codes of conduct with her on his desk, he’d forced himself to wait. Even though he suspected the anticipation just might kill him. Their sexual innuendos in the yoga studio had sent desire soaring through his veins, and his blood still hadn’t cooled.
After nodding to the nighttime security guard and stowing two sets of blueprints in his trunk, he drove out of the Soren Security parking lot and headed to the construction site of his contractor. He’d had revisions drawn up by his architect, stamped and approved by the city, and he wanted his contractor renovating his house as soon as possible.
Cranking the top down on his car, he passed Confluence Park, where joggers and cyclists made colorful crisscrossing patterns as they passed each other. Two young families were setting up picnics alongside dozens of dog-walkers and some coeds playing Frisbee. Then he stopped at a red light and absently watched a troop of little kids cross the street with three chaperones herding them along the crosswalk. He smiled as they marched single-file into the Children’s Museum.
Trey looked forward to his own kids enjoying the benefits of living in Denver. The green parks and wilderness trails. The great schools. The museums and rich cultural heritage. So opposite to the dusty haze and crowded neon lights of Vegas. And he’d totally be the dad who chaperoned every field trip. A perk of owning his business. He set his schedule, and he could take whatever flex-time he wanted.
When the light changed, he shifted gears and his mind drifted to Devon. He hoped she took his advice and got some sleep. He’d hated seeing the tension still stamped on her face and the hint of dark circles under her eyes. Too worried about her, he honestly hadn’t slept well last night, either. He wished she’d stayed with him instead of Logan and Allison. He would’ve held her all night. Nothing else, just held her. Assuring her that she was safe. That he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Ever.
But that might’ve come across as kind of intense, he thought with a troubled sigh. He ran a hand through his hair when rushing wind flicked it into his eyes. Devon was as self-sufficient and independent as they came. Somehow, he needed to find a way to convince her that relying on someone didn’t mean surrendering her autonomy or sacrificing everything.
And that being together twenty-four/seven wouldn’t conflict with her life goals. He’d found the woman he wanted to achieve life’s goals with, someone who had his back while he had hers. He loved Devon’s spark. Her energy and spontaneity balanced well with his grounded steadiness and constancy. She made him feel alive inside, and he intended to hold onto that, hold onto her, as long as possible.
If it were up to him, he’d never let her go.
He turned into John Paxton’s construction site and pulled up beside a familiar Harley-Davidson. The collection of skulls spray painted on the tank trailed by red and yellow flames was hard to forget. Then a man who looked suspiciously like his cousin and the motorcycle’s owner stepped out of the construction trailer and strode his way.
He squinted against the bright sunlight. “Adam?”
“Yo.” He wore his typical black jeans, tight black t-shirt, and biker boots, with a pair of mirrored sunglasses tucked into a button hole on his leather vest.
“Considering a career change?” Trey asked dryly.
Adam gave a brief laugh. “Nah. I was checking out the database of our bodyguards’ assignments.”
“And that led you to John Paxton?”
Adam scratched his ear where his American Flag bandana smoothed his chin-length hair back from his face. “One of the guys I ride with in our Denver motorcycle club does construction for Paxton. Since the job just ended, I asked Paxton if Bruno could moonlight for us.”
“Sure.” Trey shrugged. “You came all the way here to ask him in person?”
“Didn’t want to step on any toes, man. I found a sweet assignment for Bruno. A request for a bodyguard came in from a builder who’s getting the shakedown from someone he fired from his crew. He wants presence when he goes to his job sites. You know, so I figured since Bruno gets the lay of the land in construction, he’d be a good fit for the gig.”
“Nice.” Trey tried to keep his astonishment from showing on his face. Maybe Adam was actually finding his niche. Though, if Trey made a big deal out of it, Adam would probably deny this sudden interest in the placement of their bodyguards and detach again. So Trey gestured to the plans stacked under his arm. “John said he’d handle the renovation on my place.”
When Adam grinned, his dark three-day-old beard scruff deepened the brackets around his mouth. “What? You don’t dig your yellow flowered wall paper and orange shag carpet?”
“Not so much.” Trey shook his head. “I wanted the demo started yesterday.”
“How long will it take?”
“John’s estimate is six weeks.”
“In construction terms, you’re looking at twelve weeks.”
Adam was probably right. “Most likely. It’s an older place. There’s no telling what they’ll find when they start taking down walls.”
Adam plucked his mirrored shades from his vest and slid them onto his face. “You need a place to crash, just give me a heads up.”
“Will do. Thanks, Adam.”
“Yup.” His cousin straddled the Harley, revved the v-twin engine and kicked up a few stones as he veered toward the highway.
Trey couldn’t be happier about Adam’s show of investment in their bodyguard business. Maybe Adam would buy a home, too. Put down roots. Instead of squatting in a rental downtown, in a less than stellar neighborhood. But Trey appreciated the small sign of progress Adam showed today.
He knocked on the door of John Paxton’s construction trailer. When John invited him in, they went over the blueprints and Trey wrote out a check for half the cost of the job. He told himself this was a good investment, because a newly renovated house on his incredible property doubled its value. Even though he could afford it, writing all those zeroes for a non-business-related expense made his hand clench briefly.
After spending years scraping by on bare bones for years to funnel ninety percent of their bounty hunter income into savings, Trey now enjoyed financial freedom. While he’d endured yellow flowered wallpaper and the country ‘70s vibe in his place long enough, the frugal side of him balked at the ghastly amount for the renovations. Even as the billionaire inside reminded him that money was no longer a problem.
As he handed John the check, he wondered what Devon’s opinion would be on the new v
ision for his home. Would she think he was extravagant? Maybe she wouldn’t like his taste in décor.
With a parting handshake, and Devon on his mind, he left John’s trailer and slid his phone from his pocket. He searched the Internet for the restaurant he had in mind and dialed the number. “Yeah, I’d like to make reservations for two, at eight o’clock.”
Devon deserved to be wined and dined. No matter how much the thought tempted him, he refused to just show up at her house and carry her off to bed. If he didn’t respect and admire Devon so much—and if he didn’t care if what they had shared between them lasted—he might’ve done that.
But Devon wasn’t a cheap thrill or a quick fling to him. He wanted a whole lot more than that. So, like he’d told himself from the start, he’d take this slow. That included taking her out to dinner, treating her like the prize she was, draping her in jewels. Making it clear she was the center of his world. A thought occurred to him, and he made an unplanned stop at the jewelry store, where he’d gotten his grandfather’s watch fixed a few months ago.
Once having conducted the transaction with the jeweler, he went home, and spread his copy of the blueprints out on his dining room table. He spent a half-hour reviewing the renovation plans. Hours slipped past, and when he realized the time he went to clean up for his date.
Freshly showered, his gut coiling with anticipation, with the need to be near her, he rang Devon’s doorbell.
While Peanut went crazy, Trey felt compassion for the animal. For two straight days it had been uprooted from its routine. He liked routine, too, unless the diversion included Devon.
From behind the door, he heard her subduing her dog. At least this time, the screen wasn’t open to any nut-job who attempted to approach her house.
“I’ll be right there.”
“It’s me,” he assured. “Take your time.”
When she unlocked her door, he stepped inside. He took one look at her and nearly lost his self-control. She wore a form-fitting, little black dress that hugged her tight curves. He’d rather see that dress on the floor as he spread her out across his bed.
He stiffened everywhere as appreciation warred with his territorial streak. “You look phenomenal.”
“Thanks,” she said with a bright red-lipped smile. An image flashed in his mind of those red lips traveling down his stomach, feeling her hair glide across his waist as she reached down to grab his—
Shit. Keep it together, Trey.
He gave his head a quick shake. He’d promised himself he would act like a gentleman, even if his thoughts kept veering into the sexual gutter. “I made reservations for eight.”
“Reservations? I was under the impression we’d stay in tonight.” The inviting sensual look on her face battered his self-composure.
“We have all night. I want to make the most of my time with you, and Luca D’Italia’s pasta is calling my name.”
“Italian sounds great.” Her voice softened. “I haven’t been out to dinner in ages.”
He noted that she wore no jewelry except silver pendant earrings. He smiled privately. “Close your eyes and turn around.”
She sent him a curious glance. “Okay…” Her eyes slid shut and she turned a half-circle in her sexy red high heels, which would also look good on the floor next to her dress. His erection throbbed.
Instead of sweeping her into his arms and carrying her upstairs, he reached into his suit coat pocket and removed the necklace he’d purchased. Gliding her hair to the side, he draped the piece over her collarbones. Unable to help himself, he pressed a kiss to her exposed neck, then fastened the clasp and slid her hair back into place.
“Turn around,” he murmured against her ear.
Her hand went to her throat. “What’s this for?”
“For being you.”
She moved to the mirror over a small table beside the front door. Her eyes flew wide. “Holy crap. Are these real diamonds?”
He crossed his arms. “Do you even have to ask?”
“It’s gorgeous.” Lips slightly parted, she traced the obsidian stones encrusted with diamonds. Her eyes sparkled with appreciation then dimmed. “I can’t accept this, Trey.”
He frowned. “Yes, you can.”
“It’s too much.”
He came to stand behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Their gazes met in the mirror. “No, it’s just right.”
They stood there together for a long moment. He saw her conflicted emotions play out on her features. He wished she’d relax, let go and stop wondering if he had ulterior motives. Hadn’t he proven that by now?
“It’s a gift, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head. “Someone needs to spoil you. I want it to be me.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she added in a rush. “The necklace is stunning.” A blush crested her cheeks. “I guess I’m not used to receiving extravagant gifts.”
“Then get used to it.” He slid his hand down her arm and twined his fingers with hers. “You’re an amazing woman who deserves the best.” He couldn’t wait to see her wearing this necklace and nothing else. Later, he reminded himself and tugged her toward the door. “Let’s drive around and see what we can find to keep us entertained until dinner.”
As he headed downtown, he caught her touching the necklace several times, and the wistful smile on her lips warmed him. It stroked his pride to know he’d outdone her former lovers, though he found it hard to believe those men hadn’t set her on a pedestal and worshipped her. Hey, at least they’d made it easy for him to show how much he appreciated all the intriguing facets of this special woman.
“Want to grab a martini somewhere?” he asked.
“Actually, we could…” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“What?”
She picked at the black sequins on her wristlet purse. “Maybe another time.”
He reached for her hand and smoothed his thumb across the points of her knuckles. “Devon, what were you going to say?”
She shrugged. “It’s silly and juvenile.”
“So?”
A smile tugged her lips. “I don’t suppose you’d want to waste an hour at the new arcade that just opened up downtown?”
He grinned. “Absolutely.”
After the stress at work over the last week, not to mention the emotional strain of the past twenty-four hours, playing a few arcade games would offer a fun distraction. He wished he’d thought of it.
When they walked into the crowded two-story space, bright lights, the smell of stale beer, digitized musical sounds, and shouts of success or loss assaulted his senses. The carnival-like atmosphere reminded him of places along the Vegas Strip.
He curved his arm around her waist. “Where do we start?”
“I’ve been dying to shoot some zombies.”
The fiendish gleam in her eyes took him by surprise, and he laughed. He swept his arm in front of her. “Lead the way, slayer.”
Trey fondly recalled weekends as a kid when his cousins came over to play marathon sessions of Mario Brothers with him and Cade on their Nintendo. But he barely remembered the last time he’d played arcade games or even a video game. He’d invested some effort in Star Craft, but lost interest when the sequel took forever to launch. Cade had immersed himself in World of Warcraft for a few years then gave it up because the quests were too intensive and time-consuming. Adam continued his obsession with Call of Duty, and Liam had become a champ at Assassin’s Creed.
The four of them needed to hang out together again, instead of leading parallel lives that only converged at the office. Meeting up with his brother and cousins at the arcade jumped to the top of his to-do list.
Even though he and Devon were way overdressed and glaringly out of place in the jeans-and-t-shirt crowd, he didn’t care and she didn’t seem to either. He was glad she’d suggested this entertaining pit stop.
They approached a promising game with bright red pistols waiting to unleash invisible bullets on zombies
.
“Ready to roll?” he asked.
“You know it.” She grinned. “Try and keep up.”
Devon realized the game had been upgraded a version or two since she’d last played it in an arcade. Better graphics made the undead super creepy and gory, and her trigger finger got a workout. She jerked the gun down to reload every few seconds, before taking aim and continuing the slaughter. She led the way around the maze, but Trey held his own.
When the zombies led a sneak attack, they couldn’t keep up with the creatures. Their reincarnations were up, and the clock started counting down to the end of the game. Trey dug in his pocket for the gaming card and swiped it with two seconds to spare.
The game resumed. She explained a strategy to avoid another takedown, and they succeeded against the zombie attack this time. She grinned, laughed, and had a blast.
This is why she wanted to work for ActionNet, a company that created games people loved to play. She adored games requiring strategy, and she wanted to build her own post-apocalyptic zombie world. Video games offered hours of fun and enjoyment, but they also brought people together and united like minds in fascinating ways.
She lived for this kind of mental and visual stimulation and the chance to unleash her competitive streak. She so looked forward to her new career.
The two of them made it to level four before the game threw a stampede of zombies at them, ending their successful reign over the undead.
Depositing the plastic gun in its perch, he slid his arm around her and stole a quick kiss. “Not bad. I’d have you on my team any day.”
She grinned. “When the apocalypse hits, you’ll be the first one I call.”
“I’d better be.” He led her outside and he drove toward the restaurant where he’d made reservations.
AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long played on his satellite radio. He turned it up then let his hand drift back to her thigh. His thumb traced the hem of her short dress.
Devon bit her lip. She wished his thumb would caress the ache that had been building between her thighs since the yoga class. She pictured his muscles sweat-soaked and gleaming.
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