Riding on Instinct

by Burton, Jaci

  “Please, everyone, call me Shadoe. The ‘agent’ thing is too formal, and as Spence seems so fond of reminding me,” she said, this time shooting a pointed look in his direction, “I need to loosen up.”

  He winked. She rolled her eyes.

  This was going to be fun.

  SHADOE UNPACKED, RATHER FURIOUSLY, JAMMING HER THINGS IN the two-drawer dresser in the tiny bedroom provided to her by General Lee. At least she could take out her frustrations on her clothing instead of the huge hulk of a man who’d infuriated her from the start.

  Spencer. Why did he have to be the one she was going to work so closely with? The other guys seemed nice, at least. Spencer was an arrogant ass who’d apparently already determined she couldn’t do the job. As if she hadn’t come up against hundreds of guys just like him—starting with her father. She’d made the colossal sin of being born a girl and her father had never forgiven her for that.

  She’d show him, and she’d show Spencer, too. She could do this assignment. And when she rose to the top of the ranks at the department, she’d tell her father to shove it, too. Her gender did not preclude her from becoming successful in law enforcement.

  Just because all her father’s brothers had been graced with sons and her father had managed to produce only one daughter did not make her a mistake, did not make her less than worthy to carry on the Grayson tradition of being prominent, decorated officers.

  Her father was an ass. So was Spencer. She’d prove herself.

  She’d parade down Bourbon Street stark naked if she had to, but she’d nab the rogue agent.

  A knock at the door forced her to hurry and shove the last of her things in the drawer. She opened the door to find her new partner taking up most of the doorway.

  God, Spencer was imposing. Impossibly tall, tan, stunningly gorgeous, if she had to admit it. Brown hair cut razor short, and eyes the color of the ocean, with a square jaw that bore a hint of unshaven stubble. If she was the kind of woman to swoon over a good-looking man, she’d be a puddle on the floor by now.

  Good thing her career took all her time and she didn’t focus on men and sex.

  Though her body was doing a pretty darn good imitation of libidinous longing at the moment. She ignored it. “Yes?”

  “Your stripping instructor, Maria, was delayed. She won’t be able to meet with you until tomorrow. But Jessie’s offered to help loosen you up. She’s waiting for you in the workout room.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll show you the way.”

  “Fine.”

  “And I’d change into something less . . . anal-retentive . . . if I were you.”

  She rolled her eyes. Did he take her for an idiot? “Gee, thanks. I was planning on it.” She waited. He didn’t move.

  “Do you mind?”

  “No. Go ahead.” He still didn’t go away. Nor did he stop smiling. God, that was irritating.

  “Geez, you’re dense.” She shut the door in his face, shook her head, and dug out a T-shirt and sweats, changing in a hurry. When she opened the door again, he arched a brow and gave her a tilted-head once-over, but didn’t say a word.

  Good, because she did know how to drop-kick a well-over-six-foot-tall giant, and she wouldn’t at all mind giving him a demonstration right there in the hall. She was in a mood.

  He took her down to the ground floor and into a good-sized gym.

  Jessie was waiting for her in a back room, dressed in cropped workout pants and a tight T-shirt. And holy shit, did the girl have a body on her. Shadoe immediately felt inadequate.

  Maybe Jessie should be the one stripping, because she was gorgeous. Platinum blond spiky hair, face of an angel, and a body made for sin.

  “Hey!” Jessie said with enthusiasm when she spotted Shadoe. “I figured since Maria was going to be late, you’d want to loosen up a bit and maybe start working on some dance moves.”

  “Sure. Thanks for working with me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m jealous as hell you get to strip. It sounds like a blast.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Jess.”

  The deep baritone voice of Diaz came out as a warning, but Jessie only blew him a kiss and grinned.

  “He belong to you?” Shadoe asked.

  “Body and soul,” she said. “But you can ignore him. He goes Neanderthal and jealous on me at times. It just means he loves me. And I’m still envious that you get this juicy assignment.”

  “Oh, right. Not exactly the best assignment I could have hoped for, but I’ll live through the humiliation.”

  Jessie put her hands on her hips. “You’re joking, right? Stripping is power, honey. You’ll have men drooling at your feet, willing to do anything you say for the tiniest glimpse of skin. You’ll be in utter control. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “You know, for someone so young, you’re very wise.”

  Jessie laughed. “I just know who holds the clout in that kind of situation. Growing up with all these guys, I’ve learned a lot.”

  Shadoe glanced at Spencer, who was leaning against the wall. His expression was noncommittal, but she could well imagine the protective instincts of all those men taking care of a teenaged Jessie. General Lee had given her cursory background information on all the Wild Riders. Impressive lot, all of them, having worked their way into their positions from nothing.

  She supposed teaching the girl street smarts and learning about guys through living with them wasn’t a bad thing at all. Shadoe wished someone had let her in on a few of those secrets, because as far as men were concerned, she was clueless. She’d dated them, had sex with them, but as far as understanding them, she was utterly in the dark.

  “Let’s stretch a bit, then we’ll get to movements,” Jessie said.

  They got down on the floor and did some basic stretches. Shadoe was aware of Spencer still hovering near the door, but she tried her best to ignore him and concentrate on Jessie. She figured he’d get bored soon enough and leave for something more exciting, like wrestling on television. Or maybe a game on Xbox.

  No such luck. By the time they had finished their stretching and Jessie went to put music on, not only had Spencer pulled up a chair, but two more of the guys had come in to watch.

  “Hey, guys,” Jessie said with a wave. “We’re going to work on some dance moves. Want to join in?”

  “I’d rather have the hair on my balls plucked out with tweezers,” Paxton said with a grimace.

  “Don’t look at me,” AJ said. “Two left feet, remember?”

  Spence stayed silent.

  “Pussies,” Jessie replied, then laughed. “Let’s get going.” She turned to Shadoe. “Do you have dance experience?”

  Shadoe nodded. “Years of it as a kid all the way through college. Mostly ballet though.”

  Jessie grinned. “Perfect. That’ll help a lot. At least you know how to move your body.”

  “True enough, but I think ballet and stripping are two entirely different things.”

  Jessie laughed. “Dancing is dancing, honey. It’s just a different type of movement. As long as you have rhythm, you’ve got a head start.”

  The music was slow and sexy, and Shadoe followed Jessie’s lead.

  “First thing you have to do is relax your body. Breathe in and out,” Jessie said, her chest rising and falling as she deeply inhaled and exhaled. “If your body isn’t relaxed, you’ll be out there dancing around like you have rigor mortis.”

  Shadoe snorted. “Good point.” She did the deep breathing as Jessie instructed.

  “Ignore the audience. Concentrate on the music and how it makes you feel. Because you’re the only one who counts. It’s just you and me dancing.”

  Shadoe focused on the music, relaxed, breathed, watched only Jessie. Jessie had a way with her body and the music, sliding her hips back and forth. Slight, but oh so sexy.

  Ballet was all about certain moves, maintaining your body structure in certain positions. What Jessie did was nothing like that—it was all free-fo
rm movements. Shadoe was used to something entirely different and she tried to follow Jessie. She tried to concentrate, but knew she was failing miserably.

  Jessie reached out and grabbed Shadoe’s hips. “Honey, you are one tight ball of tension. Let it go. This is fun stuff. Loosen your hips and let them slide. Back and forth, back and forth. That’s it. Now raise your arms over your head and swing your ass.”

  It was difficult for Shadoe to let go. Jessie was right. She was always tense, always on the job, always thinking, planning, plotting . . . working.

  But . . . this was work, wasn’t it? And her focus was on being the best. So she had to be the best at this.

  “Come here,” Jessie said, bringing herself up hip to hip with Shadoe and taking Shadoe’s hands in hers. “Now, move your body in time with mine.”

  They were breast to breast, hip to hip. This made it much easier to follow Jessie, undulating her hips in a side-to-side rhythm. Oh, yeah, now she was getting it. She settled into the music, letting her body relax and flow along with Jessie’s. Jessie pulled back, then Shadoe moved up close to her again until their breasts were touching. Then Shadoe would move back and Jessie would rock her hips against Shadoe.

  “Oh yes, now you’ve got it. That’s hot, babe,” Jessie said. “Keep doing it.”

  This was fun. And Jessie was right. Dancing like this was hot, so much easier than the structured form of dance she was so used to.

  When she turned to face the men, there were several sets of equally steamy eyes riveted on them, anticipation written all over their faces.

  Jessie was right. There was power in this. And she hadn’t even taken her clothes off yet.

  “Fuck me, that’s hot as hell,” AJ said in a tight whisper.

  “I don’t think my dick’s supposed to be getting hard, but it is,” Paxton replied.

  “You’d better all be staring at Shadoe or you’re dead,” Diaz said.

  Spencer said nothing, but his throat was dry, his cock like steel, and his balls quivered. Watching Shadoe and Jessie dance together was one hell of an erotic scene. Though he wasn’t focused on Jessie at all.

  Now that she was out of her loose pantsuit, he realized Shadoe had a body. Not the knock-your-eyes-out-of-their-sockets body that Jessie had, but the woman definitely had curves. Nice breasts pressed against her snug-fitting T-shirt, an indented waist, and hips made for a man’s hands. And legs. Long legs. He wanted to see those legs under the sweatpants she wore, dammit. A woman could have tits like mountains and he wouldn’t care. He was a leg man.

  And he was wrong—she could move. She learned quickly, and though he could tell she was a novice, once she was given instruction, she was a quick study. If Maria could teach her a few moves, she might make one hell of a stripper.

  If she could actually handle it, and that was the key. Could she handle it? He’d have to find out before they put her up on stage.

  He knew exactly how to do that.

  He waited while she and Jessie practiced awhile longer. All the guys but Diaz left, obviously unable to stand the girl-on-girl torture any longer.

  When Jessie finished up, Shadoe indicated she was going to hang out and practice for a while. Jessie winked at Diaz as she strolled by and left the gym. Diaz walked out right after her, but Spence hung back, watching. Shadoe was immersed in the music, clearly oblivious to his presence.

  He stood and walked toward her. She rocked her hips back and forth in front of the mirror, her eyes open as he approached.

  Maybe she wasn’t oblivious, because she locked gazes with him, yet continued to move, raising her arms over her head. He stopped behind her.

  “Stripping is more than just shaking your ass, you know,” he said.

  “I’m fully aware of that.”

  She continued to move. She had a really nice ass. His dick continued to pound. He didn’t try to hide the fact he had an erection, either. He stepped beside her, and her gaze drifted down. She had to notice.

  She did. Her gaze shot back up to his face.

  “Yes, watching you and Jessie dance got my dick hard. Does that bother you?”

  This time she stopped, turned to him, swallowed before answering. “No.”

  “Good. Because as a stripper you’re going to be getting a lot of guys hard. Get used to it.”

  She grabbed a towel from the back of the chair and wiped her neck. “There are a lot of things I need to get used to. But I’m not innocent, Spence.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve had sex before.”

  “How many times?”

  She stilled. “That’s really none of your business.”

  He laughed. That answer told him a lot. “Oh, a woman of the world, are you?”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Yes. But I need to be able to cover yours. And you need to be able to pull this off. So I’m not going to let you pretend to be something you’re not. If you can’t do this, you should stop now.”

  “I can do this.”

  “Prove it. Strip for me.”

  TWO

  SHADOE BLINKED, UNABLE TO BELIEVE THE BULLSHIT SPENCE had just handed her. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He pulled the chair around and sat in it. “I’m a paying customer. Strip for me.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself like a blanket. “I most certainly will not.”

  “Babe, soon you’ll be stripping for a hundred guys or more every night. And I’ll be there every time. If you can’t do it now, you’ll never be able to.”

  “Screw you, Spencer.”

  “I didn’t ask you to screw me. I just want you to strip for me.”

  Oh. Now she got it. He was challenging her. The first thing he’d said upon meeting her was that he didn’t think she could do it. He was trying to prove his point right now. This was the academy all over again. Her father all over again. Every man who’d told her she wasn’t good enough, that she’d never be able to do the assignment. That it was too hard. That she didn’t have the guts for it.

  Well, just fucking fine. She’d show him she could. Without embarrassment or hesitation. She threw the towel in the corner, marched over to the stereo and selected a song, then pushed the button. Sucking in a deep breath, she remembered what Jessie had told her.

  When the music started, she had her back turned to Spence. She’d just pretend he wasn’t in the room at all. Then again, this was her work, wasn’t it? And Spencer was definitely all man. If she could turn him on—without Jessie there as the added allure—she could judge her adequacy as a stripper. Then she’d know whether she needed to make some adjustments or not. It would give her some advance knowledge for tomorrow when she met with Maria. She’d know what areas she needed to work on.

  She let herself feel the music as it entered her body, remembering she had a “paying” customer watching her.

  Think sexy, Shadoe. Be sexy. Of course she didn’t have the right clothes on, but that didn’t matter. Because underneath these sweats? Wait till he saw what she had on underneath.

  The music was slow, jazzy, a beat that made her sway around the room. She took her time at first, not getting close to him at all, as if she were dancing only for herself. She kept her eyes closed, letting the music take hold and get her in the mood. After a few seconds, she started moving around the floor, gradually inching closer and closer, each step drawing her toward Spencer’s chair.

  The music slowed, the slow strains of the saxophone oh so sexy. She really felt it now, and it made her movements that much more fluid.

  Spence’s gaze followed her, and she teased him with a roll of her hip near his shoulder, barely grazing him. Emboldened by the sudden flash of heat in his eyes, she took it further, dragging the hem of her T-shirt up, baring the skin of her belly.

  His eyes widened when he saw the diamond piercing her belly button.

  “That doesn’t look like government issue.”

  She smiled down at him, continued to ro
ll her hips from side to side. “It’s a transmitter and GPS unit. So it is government issue. You’ll be able to track and hear me using this device.”

  His gaze slid up her body to her face, and his lips lifted. “Handy.”

  “I thought so. Sexy and functional.”

  “Guess you thought of everything.”

  “I try.”

  He followed every inch of flesh she revealed. With one hand she pulled the shirt up, and pushed the sweatpants down with the other, giving him a glimpse of her hips and the string of her thong.

  Through half-lidded eyes she shot a smoldering gaze at Spencer, and was rewarded with his deep, slow swallow. His eyes were planted on her, never wavering. That encouraged her to move forward, lifting the T-shirt up, stopping short of her breasts. His heated gaze followed her movements, then locked on her face in expectation. She danced in front of him, fisting the shirt in both hands and rocking her hips back and forth, teasing him.

  If he wanted it, he could damn well ask.

  “Take it off,” he said.

  No, he hadn’t quite asked, had he? He’d commanded it, and his gruff voice made her wet. That, she hadn’t expected, but it helped her play the part, and she’d use anything she could to dig in to the persona of a stripper.

  She stepped closer and lifted the shirt off, revealing the black lace demi-bra that barely contained her breasts.

  His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

  Straitlaced and prim and proper, was she? Choke on it, Spence.

  This was so exciting. God, she hoped she didn’t look like a fool, but judging from Spencer’s reaction, she didn’t think so.

  She tossed the shirt across the room and hooked her thumbs underneath the waistband of her sweats, just enough to tease. She might not be a professional stripper, but she knew when she had a man’s interest. Her fingers splayed underneath just enough to taunt, to promise, tilting her pelvis in his direction as if offering herself to him. Then she turned around and swung her ass at him as she bent over, slowly inching the sweats down her legs.

  Yes, that’s right, Spence. Black lace thong panties. She might have to wear a hideous crisp pantsuit on the outside, but she loved her sexy underwear.