by M. S. Parker
Except the light that'd caught my attention. I could see now that it was a sign. A literal one, not some existential shit. DeMarco's & Sons. I hoped that the light being on meant that they were open, because I really didn't want to have to walk any farther than I had to, and I needed to find out my location.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, blinking at the bright lights. My first impression was more sound than sight. The place was loud, and not just with the sort of noise that came with a garage. Mixed in with the sounds of tools was a radio blasting classic rock along with men's voices.
“Excuse me?”
No one even looked at me, but that wasn't surprising. I barely heard myself over the cacophony. I looked at the desk to my right and tapped the bell that was sitting there. Nothing. I scowled. I was no genius, but this didn't seem like the best way to do business.
I was starting to get warm now, and my frustration at the situation wasn't getting any better. I was tired and uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was check into my hotel room, shower, eat, and then spend the rest of the day sleeping.
I looked over at a group of four men who were the closest to me. None of them had even glanced in my direction. I sighed and started their way. I didn't know what their problem was, and I really didn't care. I just wanted to find out where I was.
Before I reached them, one of the men looked up, and I found myself staring into a pair of deep, vibrant cobalt blue eyes. They flicked down my body and then back up.
“Can I help you?”
Damn, that was some voice.
And some man, I realized, as he stood. Over six feet tall, and every inch of it lean muscle – a fact I was able to verify because he was wearing a skin tight t-shirt and a pair of worn but well-fitted jeans. His hair was dark, the color of cocoa, and tattoos wound their way up his arms, disappearing under his shirt.
I could see the desire in his eyes as I stopped, and it wasn't the soft admiration or even the sort of inappropriate lechery I'd seen before. This was soul shattering desire that made my mouth go dry and my heart race. I'd never had anyone look at me that way before, and it completely threw me. As if everything else that had happened today wasn't enough.
By now, the other three men were looking at me, but none of them held my attention like the man still watching me so intently.
“Something we can help you with?” A man to my left spoke.
I glanced at him. “I...where are we?”
“You're right here, sweetie.”
All the men were standing now, and the two who hadn’t yet spoken took a step closer. The movement drew my attention, and it was only now that I realized coming in here might not have been a good idea. They were shorter than the first man – the one with the eyes – but broader, rougher looking. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight. These guys looked like they started the fights.
“My car broke down.” I blurted it out before I could think better of it. “I want to call a cab, but I don't know what street we're on.”
It was only as I said it that I realized I could've told a taxi to come to DeMarco's & Sons and I wouldn't have needed to come inside. I could've gotten back in my car and waited there. It might've been cold, but I wouldn't have felt like I was in some sort of nature documentary – the kind of documentary where an announcer with a British accent talks about how hyenas take down a gazelle who dared to stray from the pack.
And I didn't need to be a genius to know who the gazelle was in this scenario.
I wondered if I had enough time to dig in my purse for the pepper spray I bought a couple years ago. I had one of those rape whistles too, but I doubted anyone would be close enough to hear it. And judging by the way these guys looked, I doubted anyone would come, even if the thing carried sound across New York.
“I'll be happy to fix your car for you, baby.” One of the other men leered at me. “And I'm sure we can work out some way for you to pay me back.”
“Or you can just stay here with all of us,” another man said. “You look like you could take us all on.”
“I bet she'd like that.”
The three of them were coming toward me, and I took a step back.
“Would you like that, sweetheart? Three fat dicks–”
“Lay off.”
The words were quiet, but the three men turned toward the first man I'd seen.
“You want in on this, Dax?” The shortest of the three motioned toward me. “I'm sure she can take one more, especially one with a dick as small as yours.”
The man and his two buddies laughed.
I glanced over my shoulder and tried to judge the distance to the door. Tried to remember how far it was from the door to my car. And then wondered if my car would even stop them if they were determined enough.
“Why don't you guys go fuck yourselves?” The man they called Dax said the question in such a conversational tone that it took me a minute to realize what the words actually were.
For a moment, I thought there would be a fight, but then the trio laughed again, and one of them smacked Dax's arm.
“We got shit to do,” the shortest one said and threw a wink my way. “When you're done with her, try to talk her into coming back. We can have a party.”
“Fuck off, Georgie.” Dax walked around the three other men and came toward me, his long legs eating up the distance between us.
Electricity crackled around me, as if his very closeness changed the atmosphere of the room. I was torn between wanting to run away and wanting to know what it was like to be touched by him. Since I had no clue what the best thing to do was, I stayed in place and waited to see what he would do next.
“Dax Prevot.” The words were soft, as was the small smile curving his beautifully formed lips. He held out a hand to me, and I hardly noticed the other three men walking in the opposite direction.
I placed my palm against his and felt that surge of energy I’d been anticipating and fearing. His hand was warm and strong as it closed around mine. His smile faded, and for a moment, he looked as surprised as I felt.
I’m not sure how long I stood there, drawn into the spell his presence cast over me, but it wasn't until Dax gave my hand a squeeze that I realized I hadn't offered my own name.
“Bryne,” I said a bit too breathlessly for my liking, which snapped me back to reality. I pulled my hand away and gestured toward the door behind me. “If you could just tell me where I am, I'll call a taxi.”
“You're in Hell's Kitchen,” Dax said as he grabbed a coat from behind the desk. “Let me take a look at the car.”
It wasn't really a request, I realized as I followed him outside. I shivered as the cold hit me but there was no way I was going to stay inside the shop without Dax. He was a different kind of scary than those other guys.
He didn't speak as he popped the hood of the car and started fiddling with things. After a couple minutes, he glanced up at me. “Try to start it.”
I nodded as I climbed into the car, my jaw starting to ache from clenching it so tightly. I knew the moment I opened my mouth, my teeth would chatter hard enough to hurt. I breathed a prayer as I turned the key and sighed in relief when the engine turned over. It sounded rough, but it was running.
A knock at the window made me jump. Dax stood outside the passenger's side door for a moment, then opened it and climbed in without waiting for me to ask.
“Are you okay driving in this?” He didn't look at me as he asked the question. “I can drive you if you're not.”
“I'm fine.” I pulled my phone from my purse. “I just need directions. My GPS died.”
“Where are you going?”
“Casablanca on West 43rd Street.” I found myself watching him as he stared out the window. I'd always been pretty good at reading people, but this guy was impossible.
He glanced at me, then went back to watching the shop as he gave me clear, easy directions that I wouldn't need my GPS to use. When he finished, silence fell, and for a few moments, I felt like
we were in our own little world.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I don't know what would've–”
“You should be more careful,” he cut me off. He turned toward me, some emotion flaring in his eyes. “Guys like that...” He shook his head and frowned. “Just be careful.”
The warning didn't annoy me like it did the thousands of times I'd gotten it from my mother, which, I supposed, was unfair to her. In my defense, there was a difference hearing it from the woman who'd spent most of my life nagging me, and hearing it from a scary-hot stranger who'd essentially rescued me.
He opened the door, climbed out, then bent back down to look at me. “You're new here, right?”
I nodded. “From DC.”
He seemed to be thinking about something, and I waited, hardly feeling the cold air blowing into the car.
“Meet me at Jane's tomorrow at one. It’s a restaurant on West Houston Street.”
He closed the door before I could even decide if I wanted to accept or decline. Apparently, that wasn’t a request either. I stared at him as he walked back into the shop.
Well, damn. My new life here was definitely off to an interesting start.
Chapter 2
Dax's directions were easy enough to follow, and I made it to my hotel without any further issues. I had a feeling I’d need to look into getting a new car soon or become a real New Yorker and use public transportation, but I wouldn’t worry about that just yet. Coming here hadn't exactly been a whim, but I also hadn't planned out every single step. I was fortunate, I knew, to be able to afford to take my time to figure out what I wanted to do.
I spent the rest of the day settling into the hotel room I was going to call home for the immediate future, but after all that was done, I still couldn't quit thinking about Dax's offer. If I could call it that. It seemed more like a command. I wasn't fond of people telling me what to do, but something about him made me want to meet him, get to know him. I'd never been attracted to bad boys – and Dax Prevot definitely fit in that category – but he intrigued me, to say the least.
By the time I was in bed, trying to fall asleep, I'd decided that lunch with Dax would be the perfect way to kick things off here. I didn't want to be the same girl I was back in DC. Not that I’d go completely wild, but I wanted to start making my decisions based on what I wanted, not on what everyone would think about me.
And I wanted Dax.
I fell asleep thinking about how those eyes had stared right through me, and I was still thinking about them when I woke up the next morning.
New York was different than DC, but I was too far from being a country girl to be overwhelmed by the big city. My father had actually taught me to box a bit when I was a kid, and then when I was older, Nana and Papa had enrolled me in a self-defense class. What happened last night was foolish, but I wouldn’t let it make me fearful.
Which meant I was going to lunch with Dax.
I looked the restaurant up on my phone to get directions and to make sure I had my bearings. I liked the look of it. Casual but nice. Popular enough that Dax and I wouldn't be alone. Quality food for decent prices. Good reviews. Now I just needed to decide if I wanted to risk trying to drive again or if I'd take a taxi. I didn't want to take the subway until I'd had a better chance to study the maps and make sure I knew where I was going.
The snow had stopped sometime during the night, and while there were deep drifts, the streets and sidewalks were clear enough that people and cars were out and about. The sky above was clear, and I could see enough of the city's skyline to send a thrill through me.
I tore myself away from the window and went to the dresser where I'd put my clothes. I wanted something nice, but not like I was trying too hard. Fortunately, my Nana was one of those women who always seemed to be in perfect style for every situation, and she made sure I was the same way.
I settled on a pair of nice jeans, a dark green sweater that hugged my curves, and my favorite boots. They looked good, kept my feet warm, and gave me a couple extra inches of height. At just barely five feet tall, I needed all the help I could get.
I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and was seated at a window table. As I waited, I found myself fidgeting. Twisting my napkin. Tapping my fingernails on the table. It was times like this that I wished I could legally order alcohol with my meal, just to take the edge off. I had a fake ID from when a group of us went to a club to celebrate our high school graduation, but it was sitting in my suitcase back in my room. Besides, I didn't think it was worth the risk just to get something to drink before Dax arrived.
“You came.”
I looked up at the gruff words and saw Dax standing next to the hostess. She was openly gawking at him, and I didn't blame her. He was wearing pretty much the same thing as last night, though his jeans looked a little cleaner, but I knew that wasn't why she was staring. Dax was the kind of guy who walked into a room and demanded attention just by being there.
“I did.” I gave him a small smile that I hoped masked the butterflies that suddenly took flight behind my bellybutton.
He dropped into the seat across from me and glanced over at the hostess. “Beer.”
She looked startled, but when he didn't say anything else, she walked away. A few other people were shooting looks in our direction, but Dax ignored them so I followed his lead.
“I wasn't sure you'd show up,” he admitted as he leaned back in his chair, that small sexy smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“I needed to eat lunch.” I managed to keep my voice as nonchalant as his. “I figured since you made the suggestion, I might as well stop by. To thank you.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up a little more. “Considering that I fixed your car and gave you directions, maybe you could think of a better thank you than showing up to lunch.”
He raised an eyebrow and let his eyes travel down as far as the table would let him and then back up again. Slowly. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze on my body, and a flush spread across my skin. He didn't make me feel cheap or afraid, but there was nothing innocent or sweet about the way he was looking at me.
“I'll be happy to pick up the tab.” I grinned at the startled expression on his face. “That is, of course, what you meant, wasn't it?”
He chuckled, a rich, deep sound that made the place between my legs ache. The smile didn't last long, turning into a scowl as our waiter approached. The woman gave Dax a once over, shrugged, and then looked at me. When her eyes dropped to my chest, I knew why she wasn't ogling the man across from me.
“Are you ready to order, or do you need a minute?” Her accent marked her as a New York native.
“I'm ready.” I glanced at Dax, and he shrugged. “I'll have the grilled chicken paillard.”
“Same.” He didn't even bother to look at her when he said it.
The woman jotted down our orders, gave me another appreciative look, and walked away.
“Is that what you usually get?” I asked him.
He shrugged again.
I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table. “You asked me to meet you here, but you didn't bother to check the menu before you ordered. Either you don't really care what you eat, or you're enough of a regular that you know what they have.”
“My cousin works in the kitchen.” His eyes looked everywhere but at me. “I knew the food was good.”
“Dax.” I waited until his eyes met mine. “What is this?” I gestured between us.
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and I couldn't help but appreciate the way the muscles in his arm flexed. “I wanted to make sure you got to your hotel safe.”
I blinked. That wasn’t the answer I expected, and a wave of disappointment went through me. His earlier flirting must've just been his normal way of communicating, how he naturally talked. It had nothing to do with me personally. Then again, he did just say that he wanted me to be safe.
“I did, thank you.” I took a sip of the water I'd ordere
d.
“How long are you in town?”
It was my turn to shrug. “Depends on how things go.”
He shifted in his seat, leaning forward a bit. “What things?”
I narrowed my eyes, studying him. He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to ask me questions, but at the same time, wasn't sure how to talk to me. But that had to be in my head, because there was no way a man who looked like that had any problems talking to women.
“Why do you want to know?” I folded my arms, and his eyes fell to my breasts now pressed between them.
His gaze came back to me, locked with mine. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and folding his hands together. “Because I'd like to know a little more about the woman I'll be fucking tonight.”
Chapter 3
I was pretty sure I'd heard him wrong. I must have because no one in their right mind would've said something like that to a virtual stranger. Maybe in a bar or club, but certainly not over lunch.
Except the heat in his eyes, and the smirk curling his lips told me that I'd heard him correctly, and now he was waiting to see how I'd react.
I raised an eyebrow. “You're overly sure of yourself, aren't you?”
He grinned. “Come see me at work tonight, and I'll show you why.”
“I'm not going back to–” I began quickly, unable to keep the distaste from my tone.
“Not there.”
Despite myself, I was curious. “Then where?”
“Club Privé.” He paused while the server set our food in front of us. After the woman walked away, he continued, “I work security there. Come by tonight. Let me show you one of the fun sides of the city.”
I thought about it for a moment and then came back with my own counteroffer. “If you agree to have a normal, innuendo-free lunch with me, I'll come by your club tonight.”
He didn't even take the time to think about it. “Deal.”
Okay then. Apparently, I was going to a club tonight. I just hoped Club Privé wouldn't look too close at my fake ID. That would be embarrassing. And since I was seriously considering following through on Dax's original presumption, getting kicked out of the club he'd invited me to wouldn't be the best way to make that happen.