Courting Danger

by Kimberly Dean

  ‘Why?’ He nibbled her neck as he cupped her breast. ‘I like you naked better than anything.’

  She caught at his hip, but encountered his jeans. ‘I like you naked, too.’

  ‘Then invite me back to your bed.’

  She closed her eyes and twined her fingers with his. ‘Come back to bed, Darien. Make love to me.’

  When he moved this time, she was caught up in the whirlwind. One moment they were crammed on the couch together, the next she was in his arms and he was moving swiftly down the hallway.

  He put her on her feet in the bedroom, but no moonlight snuck through the cracks down here. It was so dark she couldn’t see anything, but she could feel. He stripped off her panties and came down onto the mattress with her. She shifted so he fitted onto it. They’d landed cockeyed upon the bed, but he didn’t seem to care.

  ‘Ooooh.’ Neither did she when his hands stroked up her inner thighs, parting them.

  He gave her no time to prepare before he went down on her. In the darkness, with no other sensory input, the feel of his mouth was devastating. She wove her fingers through his hair. He shouldered his way deeper between her thighs, and his hands slid under her bottom to lift her to his mouth.

  He ate her with inhibition-smashing thoroughness. He kissed her and licked her pussy until she was trembling. When he spread her lower lips and carefully used his teeth, her muscles clenched and her back arched.

  ‘Easy,’ he murmured.

  Easy? Was he crazy?

  She twisted in pleasure, but he kept the loving slow and arousing and so intimate that it made her toes curl.

  ‘I like that you’re bare down here,’ he said.

  Her face felt hot. She worked at Luxxor. She might not work the night shift – other than with him – but she’d heard talk. Personal grooming wasn’t something they discussed in loud voices, but she’d definitely had recommendations from both the male and female staff. It had been awkward, but she was so happy she’d listened now.

  ‘Darien,’ she moaned.

  He wasn’t shy or hesitant. He knew exactly what to do to her to make her come apart.

  He slid a finger down her slit and massaged her deeply. ‘I want to make you feel good.’

  ‘I do.’

  She was so wet, it should have been embarrassing. Her pussy was clenching and relaxing under his tutelage. In the darkness, he found his way by touch. His fingers dipped into her, and his lips latched on to her clit. Her breaths came hard, and a cry was released from deep in her chest. The sheets rumpled beneath her. She was completely at his mercy.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.

  Something in his ragged tone told her the question was important. She’d trusted him all along until she’d wavered. He’d showed his faith in her tonight.

  Was it her turn to reciprocate?

  ‘Yes?’ she said hesitantly.

  His fingers slid back, spreading her wet juices, and rubbed dangerously close to a forbidden spot. ‘That didn’t sound very sure,’ he said.

  His breaths were hot against her thighs, and his body felt big as he pressed her down. ‘Do you trust me?’

  His callused fingertip rimmed the ring of her anus inquisitively, and Rielle’s breaths came hard in her lungs. All her senses were focused on what he was doing. Could she? Dare she?

  She was his escort. Exclusively.

  No limits, full access.

  She swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’

  She barely got the word out. It was just a disturbance of air, but he heard her. A groan left his throat as he settled back down. His head dipped, and his tongue lashed.

  Her spine arched hard when she felt pressure at her back door. It wasn’t forceful, but it was unyielding. Her body fought the foreign penetration, resisting. He returned to her clit and laved it with his tongue.

  She cried out as she took his finger deep into her ass.

  He pumped her there, and her senses exploded. She crested hard and fast against his mouth. Before she came back down, he’d worked in another and was scissoring them, making her stretch.

  Making her feel how much she trusted him.

  She came again, and he finally pulled his hand from between her legs. She heard him undressing, and then he was crawling up her body. She caught his shoulders when he slid his hand under her butt and came at her from the back. His fingers burrowed into her again, and then his big cock was finding its home, too. She felt full as he slid in deep. Soon he was inside her, riding her slowly. Steadily. Mind-blowingly.

  ‘Yes,’ Rielle panted. She clutched at him every way she could. He played her like a master as he fucked her from both sides.

  Trust him? She needed him.

  She ran her hands down his hard chest and felt the sweat. Her legs tangled with his. Their stomachs pressed together, and his muscles clenched.

  ‘Yes,’ she repeated, louder.

  He kept riding her, drawing her pleasure out. Her need.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ she cried.

  He finally joined her, grunting almost savagely as his hips slammed against her one more time. ‘Rielle!’

  Her neck craned against the pillow, and her hips pressed down, wanting everything.

  After a long moment, his weight came down upon her, pinning her upon the penetration. She kissed his shoulder and stroked her hands along his sides. He carefully pulled his fingers out of her, and she felt every intimate inch.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘And I’m keeping you for as long as I can.’

  He rolled off her and pulled her into his arms. There was more room here on the bed, easily enough that they could have their own space, but she snuggled close.

  ‘I’m keeping you, too, Tall, Dark and Dangerous.’

  He chuckled, but she barely heard it. Sleep was finally pulling her under. Soon she was asleep in his arms, feeling safer than she could remember.

  Chapter Twelve

  They went out for breakfast the next morning at the Apple Tree Grille. The refrigerator in the safe house didn’t have much more than the bottle of whiskey, some bread and sliced cheese. They needed to find a new place to spend the night anyway, so buying groceries didn’t make sense. Rielle knew her stress level was down when, instead of choosing a gooey cinnamon roll, she was content to opt for an egg-white omelette instead.

  The meal was comfortable and intimate. Secluded in a back booth, they felt like they were sharing secrets – and they were. It had been a long time since she’d been close with a man. She’d forgotten how it could feel to know things about someone that others didn’t. To feel safe, yet reckless. Wanted, yet free.

  Somehow this guarded loner had slipped further past her defences than anyone had ever done before. She blushed when his blue eyes sparked and he nudged his toe against hers. She needed to be careful or she was going to fall in love with him.

  If she wasn’t there already.

  The realisation surprised her. She’d been so wrapped up in the mystery and danger of him that she hadn’t asked herself why she wasn’t avoiding him. Was that why she got so energised whenever he was around? There was the sexual attraction and the mental spark, but there had always been something else. Something deeper. She was lost in thought as they walked down the street to Luxxor’s building.

  ‘Careful,’ he said as he guided her around a puddle.

  The rain had started in the middle of the night and hadn’t ended until just before they’d left the apartment. The scent of spring was in the air. Everything had been washed clean. Nature was ready for a fresh start.

  Darien held the door to the lobby open for her, but she stopped on the threshold. ‘We could stay at my place.’

  His eyes rounded, and the corners of his lips twitched upwards. He cupped the back of her head and pressed his mouth against her ear. ‘I’d love to, but let’s keep quiet about that.’

  ‘OK,’ she whispered up at him.

  He gave her a fast kiss and ushered her inside.

  She wiped
her feet on the doormat and headed to the mailboxes. It was still early, especially for Sienna and Nina. They put in later hours, which meant she was always the first one in. Darien didn’t want her to be alone, so he was playing bodyguard again. She wondered what hours he kept – or if he even kept hours – but she knew better than to ask.

  They headed up in the elevator, and he watched her thumb through the stack of bills, junk mail and the daily newspaper.

  ‘So I’m curious,’ he said. ‘How many clients does Luxxor have?’

  Her head popped up. She couldn’t answer that. ‘It changes.’

  ‘How many get the extra special service?’

  She frowned at him. He was being deliberately difficult; he knew she couldn’t share those things. She feigned interest in the front page of the paper instead.

  ‘Do you have any clients who would surprise me?’ he pressed.

  Her toe began tapping. There was absolutely no way she was going to answer that one.

  He smirked. ‘I bet there are more than a few.’

  There were, but he would never know. The elevator arrived at the fourth floor, and she moved by him. He winked, and she rolled her eyes.

  He followed close at her side. ‘Ever been tempted to escort anyone before me?’

  She nearly dropped her keys. ‘No.’

  He grinned and propped himself against the wall as she unlocked the door. ‘Good answer. Do you see what I’ve been going through?’

  She let out a huff and entered. ‘Yes, but the difference is that you’re hoping the secrets I have are good. I was dreading that yours were bad.’

  But she got it. It had been engrained in her fibre to protect Luxxor and everything she knew about the business. He’d been taught the same thing – only his slip-ups could have much greater side effects.

  ‘True. Although –’ His forehead furrowed as he suddenly became serious. ‘Do you think there’s any crossover?’

  She whipped around. ‘What?’

  His eyes sparked, and an entirely different kind of energy exuded from him. He moved towards her until he towered over her. The hunter had caught the scent of prey. ‘You said that clients tell escorts everything.’

  Oh, God. Bad move. Very bad.

  ‘Can you share some of that with me?’ he asked.

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘It would just be between the two of us.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t.’

  ‘Well, how about this? If I gave you names, you could share anything you might know about those potential clients.’

  She planted her hands on her hips and faced him. ‘No.’

  ‘Come on. It’s outside Luxxor’s concerns. You’d still get paid, and think of the greater good.’

  ‘It’s not going to happen. These aren’t stupid people. They’d figure out where the leak is and we’d be out of business.’ If not in jail…‘They use us because we keep their confidence – just like they keep ours.’

  ‘Just a little? Maybe a nugget here and there?’ He held up his thumb and forefinger to show just how little he’d be willing to accept.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on. You haven’t even asked Nina.’

  ‘And I’m not going to. I’m making the call. The answer is no.’ She returned to the mail. ‘Maybe that’s a word I should be saying more often.’

  His eyebrows jumped. ‘Hey now, don’t be that way. I was only kidding.’

  ‘Half-kidding.’ She smiled at him. She had been, too, but he was getting harder to handle. Their relationship had shifted once again last night. As leery as he’d been to let her close, the edge had been worn off. He was easier-going, more relaxed. Friskier.

  He eased up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘It was worth a try.’

  And it had been a good one, trying to twist her loyalty to his use.

  He kissed the spot beneath her ear as she flipped to a manila envelope that had been buried in the stack. It was addressed to her and had no return address. Probably payment. Some clients didn’t like to use their bank accounts. The envelope felt bulkier than just a cheque, though. She sighed. Cash.

  ‘Whoa,’ Darien said. He reached for her just as she was tearing it open. ‘What is that?’

  ‘None of your busi– Oh!’ She tilted the envelope upright when something spilled out.

  It took her a moment to identify the mess on her desk. Dried up, crumbling cherry blossoms? What the heck?

  Darien swiftly took the envelope away from her and handled it by the corners. ‘Back up,’ he ordered.

  She did as told. The tone of his voice brooked no argument, and she had a bad feeling too. ‘What is it?’

  He looked over the desk. ‘No powder,’ he said, more to himself than her.

  Oh, God.

  He puffed the envelope open wider and looked inside. A dark expression settled on his face. He upended the contents onto the desktop. More cherry blossoms littered it, but something else slid out and smacked against the desk.

  Pictures. Rielle stepped closer. Photographs.

  She sucked air in so hard, it hurt her throat. They were pictures from last night at Madam’s Organ.

  She got cold just looking at the one on top. It was a shot of her and Darien sitting at their table. They were looking into each other’s eyes as if there was nobody else in the room. It was an intimate shot of a couple out on the town, except that, from the angle at which the picture was taken, the viewer could see just how intimate they were truly being. Darien’s hand was pushed up under her skirt all the way to his wrist.

  Rielle backed away. ‘He was there. I knew he was there. I felt him.’

  Darien’s head swivelled around, and his gaze drilled her. ‘Who was there? Hamilton?’

  She pressed a hand against her breastbone. Her lungs weren’t working right. ‘Yes. Eddie.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  The look on his face was beyond disbelief.

  ‘I did. It was right after you left to talk to Mike. I didn’t know what was going on…if you were getting into a fight…if you were ever going to come back…I started to feel uncomfortable, like someone was watching me. But then you came back, and you were angry. I just…’

  She’d been caught between two evils, and she’d turned her back on the worse one.

  ‘All right. It’s OK.’ He grabbed a pencil from the holder on her desk and used the eraser to move the photos about. He rubbed his brow. ‘Call the detective.’

  Rielle stared at the photographs. They were more of the same. There was one of her and Darien with their heads bent together. They looked sexy, with her in her leather skirt and skimpy top, and him so big and virile. Looking at that shot, there was no question where their night would end.

  And it had.

  The blood drained from her face. There was a picture of Darien touching her hair and another one of her alone as she waited for him to return. But the worst was a photograph that showed his hand deep under her skirt and her head tilted back in pleasure. Her eyelids were heavy and her lips were parted – but that that wasn’t what had her so unsettled. She couldn’t rip her gaze from the big red X crossing out Darien. Or ‘Mel’, as the block letters spelled out.

  A whimper of panic left her lips. ‘The cherry blossoms. He was at the Tidal Basin that day. I felt him watching me then, too.’

  ‘OK, easy. Breathe.’ Darien picked up the phone and started punching buttons. ‘Where can I find Morgan’s number? Is it programmed in here?’

  He opened her desk drawer. ‘Do you have a card?’

  ‘202-555-1812,’ she said in a rush.

  He looked at her sharply.

  She repeated the number more slowly, and his look turned curious.

  She pointed at her head and hated it when her hand trembled. ‘I have a thing with numbers.’

  His smile was hard. ‘Always surprising me, Beautiful.’

  He dialled the number and stared down at the pictures. ‘Morg
an? It’s Darien Scott. We have a situation over here at Luxxor.’

  He flicked aside the last picture in disgust. ‘The Breather just escalated.’

  By the time they made it to Muay Thai practice that evening, Rielle was focused and motivated. Anger burned inside her. She was tired of running scared. She was sick of letting a weak, small-minded eunuch control her decisions and her life.

  The guys she passed inside the front door saw it on her face when she walked into the gym. They waved, but the smiles on their faces faded fast when Darien strode in behind her.

  His mood was even darker.

  The gym was a few blocks from her apartment, but it wasn’t one of those glossy meat markets that focused on Pilates and kettle bells. It was an old-fashioned gym run mainly for fighters. There was a boxing ring in the middle of the room and mats on the floor throughout. The place smelled like sweaty socks, and the language could get just as filthy, but she felt empowered here.

  Safe.

  It had taken her a while to work up the courage to join but, when she’d seen a posting of the classes they offered, she’d picked up the phone and called. The popularity of mixed martial arts had revived the old gym somewhat. The people here weren’t desk-riders trying to keep off the weight. These people were here to work off aggression. They were here to learn how to fight.

  ‘This is your gym?’ Darien said in a half-snarl.

  ‘Yes.’ She tossed her bag against the wall in a line with all the others.

  When she turned, she found him standing between her and the rest of the room with his arms crossed.

  ‘Over-protective much?’ she asked.

  She began to warm up and stretch.

  ‘How in the hell did you end up here?’ he asked.

  She levelled a look on him. ‘Eddie.’

  The one-word answer turned his attitude around fast. ‘You came here to learn how to protect yourself.’

  ‘And they helped me.’ She lifted an eyebrow at him. He was the newbie now, and her friends here were protective too. ‘Watch your back,’ she warned.

  She’d received a lot of looks when she’d first started coming here. There had been a catcall or two before her instructor had shut them down. The regulars had figured out pretty quickly that she was serious about the endeavour. When they’d seen how driven she was, most of them had figured out why. They’d been forming a defensive circle around her ever since. She had bartenders, cabbies, sanitation workers and a few Senate pages who were like protective brothers to her.