An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Point of Combustion ISBN 9781419916120 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Point of Combustion Copyright © 2008 Dawn Ryder Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication May 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
POINT OF COMBUSTION Dawn Ryder
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Frederick’s of Hollywood: Frederick’s of Hollywood, Inc. Jacuzzi: Jacuzzi, Inc. Old Spice: The Procter & Gamble Company
Point of Combustion
Chapter One Living with your parents had advantages and challenges. Mia Kirsten tugged on a hunk of her hair as she contemplated the nightgown lying across the foot of her bed. Her lips pressed into a pout as she traced the Mother Hubbard neckline and the heart buttons that would close the flannel garment all the way to her collar bones. Long sleeved and full skirted, the thing would never show even one, tiny hint of her body type if she wore it. Which she would. She couldn’t avoid wearing a gift from her parents. It would be disrespectful. Even if flannel was a bit unpractical for Southern California, winter was beginning to close in. She could wear it for a few weeks while the nights were chilly. Pulling on her hair again, she sighed as she picked up the nightgown. Folding it carefully, she tucked it into the top drawer of her dresser. Her twin bed looked pathetic too. At twenty-four, she was getting tired of living like a little girl. Even if she’d managed to banish the canopy from her bedroom set, she was still sleeping in a white-washed twin bed like a twelve-year-old. The only way to change it was to move out on her own. Her lips turned down into a frown. Her parents would both nosedive into depression if she even breathed a single sentence about getting her own place. Telling them she was packing up would ensure they called every single member of her large family to help “reason” with her. The landslide of guilt that would hit her would be nothing short of disaster proportions. Her mother and father were both second-generation Americans but they clung to their Korean roots. The daughter lived at home in virginal safety until she married. Heat splashed across her face as she opened her closet, her fingers searching for a satin brocade jacket. Oh yes, she was a maiden. Not just because her family wanted her to be. She wished it were that simple. Her last boyfriend had told her she was too proud…a self-important bitch. She didn’t know, maybe that was true. All she really understood was that she wasn’t going to marry any man who didn’t demand her and so far all the carefully approved young men her parents and uncles and aunts had invited to dinner did nothing to heat up her pussy. It was so blunt to think about it that way but still completely true. The idea of having sex with any of her suitors left her content to sleep in her little girl’s bed. Her thighs weren’t spreading for those spineless boys who spent more time impressing her relatives than trying their hand at seducing her.
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Which had led her to night-clubbing with her girlfriends. Or her non-Asian friends, that was. Reaching for her purse, she checked her appearance in the full-length mirror standing in the corner of her room. She didn’t like being secretive. Some people might say that she wasn’t really being dishonest because her parents had never asked her if she was going to nightclubs. But not mentioning it was the same thing really because she knew in her heart that her family would ship her to North Korea if they uncovered her secret. Her father would roll into speaking Korean and shake the rafters if he ever found out. But that was only because she was going to non-Asian clubs. She huffed as she walked to the door, a perfect image of classy and tasteful clothing. Nothing was too tight, only the very bottom of her ass cheeks touching the fabric of her slacks. No tummy-hugging pants but gently pleated fabric. The shoes peeking out at the hem were hand-tooled leather from her uncle’s cobbler shop. The blouse showing from the opening of her brocade blazer—one hundred percent silk. Every piece of clothing she had under her mother’s roof would pass inspection. That didn’t hold true for her storage unit. Just across town she rented a nondescript storage unit. The small space was her dirty secret. Carefully hung and stored there was a wardrobe that would have pleased a pop star. Miniskirts, thong underwear, lace stockings and, of course, fuck-me pumps. Her cheeks burned but her belly fluttered with excitement. In spite of the fact that she knew her family would disapprove, she loved her nightclub clothing. There were things in that storage unit that she’d never worn outside it. Sexy, sultry garments that excited her beyond anything she’d ever found with a real man. Which was a shame. Disappointment flashed through her, leaving its bitter taste on her tongue. In spite of secretly joining the current generation, attired in thigh-reveling skirts and midriff tops, she wasn’t any closer to hooking up with her dream man. The night scene was rich with guys who didn’t hold to her family’s strict code of conduct when it came to sex. There were plenty of jocks eager to bust her cherry. So far, not even one of them had sparked enough fire between her thighs to get her to follow them off the dance floor. Just because she didn’t find any interest in the respectful boys being offered up by her family didn’t mean she wanted a conceited smartass for a boyfriend. She did love to dance though. Decked out in her forbidden clothes, letting her body move to the music fed some inner fever inside her. It didn’t make any sense at all. Maybe she was just trying to rebel against her family like some troubled teenager. That would mean she was really just a spoilt brat who wasn’t mature enough to see that her family meant the best. All Mia understood for sure was that on the dance floor she felt alive. She craved being free of her clothing, wearing only little bits designed to decorate her feminine figure. If it truly was just about sex, she’d have let someone fuck her in the parking lot and gotten it out of her system by now. She loved her family. Hurting them was the last thing she wanted to do but she couldn’t change the cravings burning inside her. The only plan she’d managed to think up was to explore and try to understand herself 6
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before she did something like get married to one of those traditional guys. They might not light her fire but they deserved a wife who was sincere. It would be a far greater lie to let her family celebrate a wedding that was built on deception. “Have a good day, Mia.” “Thank you, Father.” The blush staining her cheeks remained as she bowed before leaving her father’s house. He was a good man. But she couldn’t change who she was. Couldn’t force herself into the ultra-traditional mold he wanted to think she fit into. The best she could manage was to suppress the things that he wouldn’t understand when she was with him. It was a struggle that tainted her mood, souring it as she opened the door and stepped out into a beautiful morning. Maybe she was just spoilt. Her life was good but she still wasn’t carefree and happy. Nobody had everything.
***** “There’s our package.” Trace studied Mia as she slid behind the wheel of her compact car. She reached for a pair of stylish sunglasses before pulling out of the driveway. In the upper end of town, he was glad she was an early riser because strangers were noticed here. The pampered housewives were walking their pedigree dogs along the gracefully curving sidewalks. Everything was manicured to perfection, flowers blooming even in winter because these sorts of people had the money to pay for new plantings when the season changed. “I’m glad she’s leaving. Her brother owns a martial arts studio.” Rowan’s voice came through the com link as smooth as ten-year-old whisky. “Word is he’s decent at it too.” Trace listened to the distinct hint of amusement in Rowan’s voice but he didn’t smile. He kept his mind focused on the operation. Thinking too much landed a man in conflict. He didn’t need the complication of letting his mind get started on whether or not he agreed with his orders. Or course of action in this case. No one had ordered him out on this surveillance run. But that didn’t change how vital he considered his presence. Checking the road ahead of him, he felt the prickle of tension run over his body. Just enough stress to keep him on edge. Their adversary could be in any car they passed. Hiding behind any window or just walking down the street. He didn’t bother to feel guilty for invading Mia Kirsten’s privacy. Leaving her alone was as good as tossing her to the wolves. Men like Raul Ramos didn’t care about anyone who ended up a casualty during one of their operations. Black Watch, the mercenary group the man was a part of, was hungry for vengeance now that his old Special Forces buddy Dack Tyden had dug up enough dirt on them to clear his own name. Dack had been living with a dishonorable discharge
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thanks to the dirty dealings of the group and the traitors who tried to get good teams to sell out to their “money makes right” ideals. But unearthing that evidence was going to ruffle a few feathers and Black Watch would do its best to scare Dack back into silence. Trace frowned but followed Mia through the maze of morning traffic. She had no idea that she’d managed to step into a mud pile that was leaving a stain on her pristine life. He doubted she’d even believe there was such a thing as Black Watch or that the group would burn her best friend’s condominium to the ground in an effort to get back at Dack. The group wanted Dack to remain guilty of their crimes in the eyes of the military. That way, no one would start asking questions. So they would go after the people around Dack in their efforts to keep his mouth closed. Like his girlfriend Cambria and her friends. This morning Cambria Jones was a lucky lady to still be among the living. The rubble that had once been her home was still smoldering. He’d seen it himself and the sight of two rows of condos reduced to charcoal was something he wished he didn’t know so much about. But he did. Too many years fighting for Uncle Sam overseas had left an imprint on his memory. His nose had detected the fumes of artillery fire. That was something you learned in Special Operations. Fires had scents. The condo had been taken out by a small shoulder-launched rocket unless he missed his guess. Not exactly the sort of thing that most southern Californians had sitting in their trunks. Considering the morning crush of traffic commuters, all feeling the effects of road rage, that was a good thing. He grinned at his own lame humor. Changing lanes, he pulled up beside Mia at the next red traffic signal. Behind the mirrored sunglasses he wore, his gaze shifted to study her. She was Asian. Dark, straight hair with a small nose but high cheekbones. Her eyebrows were thin slashes on her almond skin. Delicate hands grasped the steering wheel as some upbeat music made it through the glass of the windows. Her lips were moving along with the lyrics, a tiny bounce and wiggle from her shoulders confirming that she was enjoying the song. Trace pressed his lips together as a touch of heat started hardening his cock. He’d expected her to be pretty but it normally took a little more than fair features to push his buttons. His buddies liked to tell him that he was just too picky. The light turned green and he allowed Mia to pull ahead of him. Being selective wasn’t a bad trait to adopt. Running a nightclub came with plenty of available sex as well as his pick of kink. His cock didn’t respond to the invitations as quickly as some of his guests would have liked. That didn’t bother him. Taking a woman to his bed was intimate. Somewhere, amidst the years he’d spent planning Special Forces missions, he’d developed a deeper appreciation for a bed partner. Being horny wasn’t enough to get him to select a partner. He liked fucking just as much as the next man but he enjoyed seduction more. Behind his fly, his cock was still hardening. Slowly heating up as he watched the back of Mia’s head. He frowned as she pulled into her employment parking lot. His 8
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attention focused on the trim legs that appeared at her open door. It was the sort of fascination that he was happy to have hanging on his mind this morning. He had a job to do. The sweet sway of her hips sent more heat to his cock. After parking his car he stood up, grateful for the chance to adjust his swollen cock. Frustration kept him company as he studied the surrounding area. Mia moved to the double-wide glass doors that led to an exclusive gym. Celebrities made up a good portion of the clientele. Rented security men were leaning against the side of the building, watching their manager arrive for the day. Mia Kirsten ran the place. Two weeks ago, she’d been the executive assistant. But she’d been the one doing the work, keeping the patrons happy and the books in the black. Dack Tyden had been hired to assess the business when it started running in the red. It turned out her boss had been skimming off the top. Trace watched the security guards. They didn’t acknowledge Mia, didn’t even straighten up. It was a little odd considering she’d risen to power so recently. Most employees had enough survival instinct to shine up to the boss when they arrived in the morning. Trace waited for the security guards to question his presence. He’d parked on the curb. Both men looked at him but no one stopped him from walking along the outer wall of the building. If they worked for him he’d have fired them on the spot. Exclusive club meant keeping non-members out. He didn’t have any identification displayed and there was no way they knew his face. In other words, they’d just let him onto the property without any hassle at all. Just because he’d bypassed the front door was no reason to be lax. A few more feet and he opened a side door, slipping into the gym without any obstacles. They were worthless.
***** “Karen?” Mia looked around the corner, searching for the receptionist. Although a new employee, she’d been excellent about remaining at her desk until this morning. The hallway echoed with each of her steps as she listened for any sounds. Most of their patrons weren’t early risers and today was Sunday on top of that. The gym wouldn’t see any of its members until past noon if she were betting. It was a major reason she’d come in today. The low attendance would allow her the chance to get some reports finished without interruptions. “Karen?” The ladies room was empty. Frowning, Mia turned to return to her office. She was going to see just when Karen had clocked in. Maybe she was running late. If so, she wasn’t as excellent as Mia had been thinking she was. Their clientele was one hundred percent unforgiving when it came to service. One non-member through the lobby could 9
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spell disaster for the books when celebrities pulled their patronage because some press jockey had snapped a picture of them in the locker room and sold it to the tabloids. The two security guards were on her list as well, for leaning against the exterior of the building when they were paid to be at the door. A contented smile curved her lips because it was her responsibility now. Becoming manager was a possibility that two weeks ago she’d been kissing good-bye. The last manager had run her ragged. She’d been his doormat, and being told to deal with an upscale assessment team had capped it all off. She wasn’t going to take any crap for Cal Burton, not when she’d been burning the midnight oil to cover up the fact that he was a lazy asshole who didn’t know spit about running anything. It marked the first time in her life she’d planned to do something her family would have been shocked by. Her best friend Cambria had helped her clear her desk out instead of dealing with any more crap. She could always count on Cambria to help her see when it was time to stop being humble. They’d been best friends since grade school, even if her family didn’t fully approve of it. Mia wasn’t giving Cambria up. She’d sleep in that flannel nightgown and hide her miniskirts but she wasn’t going to tell her parents that she wasn’t friends with Cambria. That was a point of honor. Cambria deserved the respect of honesty. She sighed. Well, her nightclub dancing wasn’t anything quite so respectable. She was truly torn. She craved the moments when she just let the music tell her how to move, but it was a fact that her mother would collapse if she ever witnessed it. She wished she didn’t crave it so much. But she hungered for it, needing it, and she would often try to ignore it, but she would slowly go insane until she broke down and gave in to the urge to sneak away from her family traditions. “Karen?” The crumpled body of her missing receptionist lay on the polished marble tile floor of her office. Dropping to her knees, Mia flattened her hand against her chest. She shook as she detected the steady beating of the woman’s heart. Standing up, she reached for the phone, her fingers fumbling with the handset as she forced a deep breath down her throat. “I’m not here for her.” Spinning around, Mia stared at the man lounging on the sofa. Dark complexion with a short clipped beard, he smiled at her. Her heart iced over as she noticed the black leather gloves on his hands. They terrified her because they would hide his fingerprints. She pressed the nine key, slowly, trying to hide her motions from his dark eyes. “You’ll be dead before the dispatch operator sends the local cops over.” He didn’t hesitate over the treat, just tossed it out like the most mundane of topics. “Put it down.” “We don’t have a cash register or a safe but you can have my purse.” He smiled at her, the curving of his lips twisting her stomach into a nauseated knot.
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“I came here for you, sweetheart. Your little secretary got in the way. She brought you a nice stack of reports. Maybe I’ll let you write her a nice little review before you check out.” “Fine, I’ll just log into my computer.” Mia rounded her desk before he noticed what she was doing. He frowned, losing a little of his confidence. She didn’t touch the keyboard but stepped out of her inch-high heels, making sure to stand on her toes and remain the same height. “That was a joke, baby.” “Don’t quit your day job.” His eyes narrowed. Seeing her barb affect him drove some of her panic away. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to recall every word her brothers had taught her about self defense. All of her office windows were the kind that didn’t open but the panes of glass were her only option for escape. Turning around, she gripped her heavy office chair and heaved it at one of the tinted floor-to-ceiling sections. It crashed through with an ear-splintering sound. She jumped through the hole, uncaring of the glass. Cuts on her feet were the least of her worries. The window was safety glass and had fallen to the pavement in a shower of pebbles. Pain raced up her foot as she stepped on them but there wasn’t any slicing of her skin. “Shit.” She ran across the parking lot, searching for her security men. She heard her assailant trip over the chair on his way out the window because he was so much larger than she was. Rounding the corner, she raced towards the safety of the security men. “Help!” She couldn’t think of another word to say. Fear drove her faster as she headed towards the promise of rescue. The larger guard started laughing. “What’s wrong, Chuck? Can’t handle a girl on your own?” Mia skidded to a halt, the asphalt biting into her bare feet. She ducked as the man behind her made a grab for the back of her neck. Spinning around, she popped a back kick out at his knee. He cussed as she heard the bone break. It was a horrible sound in spite of the fact that he’d threatened to kill her. Violence wasn’t something she’d ever had to use on anyone. It sickened her as much as the black gloves had. “I’m going to make you pay for that, you bitch.” The sounds of traffic floated over the building but she was still too far back from the street for any cars to see her. The sounds were another form of torment, because she was so close yet still so alone. The two men in front of her sobered. “So you think you’re tough with your Bruce Lee moves?” The larger man popped his knuckles. “I’ll introduce you to tough, bitch.” He gripped his crotch. “You’ll understand hard when I’m finished with your ass.”
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“No rape.” Her first assailant spat on the ground as she slowly backed away from them all. “No DNA left at the scene or on the body, you idiot.” “How about we just kill you guys instead?” At the deep voice, Mia turned her head in time to see another man. This one was huge. Maybe it was the dark look of rage on his face that made him look so menacing, she wasn’t sure. He gestured the two security guards forward as he closed the distance, stopping when she was behind him. “Who wants to try and explain their way out of Hell first?” he said. Her would-be assailants hesitated. The one she’d taken down cussed from his position on the blacktop. The newcomer eyed them intently. “You need to be more worried about what Ramos is going to do if you show up without finishing your assignment.” They both shot a glance at each other before looking at her. Whoever her rescuer was, he was the picture of focus. All of his attention was on the men slowly closing the distance between them. His attention only wavered once, to someone behind her. “They’re mine.” Mia turned her head and gasped as she faced another man. This one was every inch as tall as the one in front of her. It wasn’t that the two assailants wearing the security shirts were small, they just didn’t radiate power the way these two did. “Glory hog.” The supreme confidence of that statement sent the two guards into a panicked attack. They lunged at the first man. Mia knew who would win before their flesh connected. Anger was a weapon only to your opponent. Fear made them clumsy and slow as her rescuer turned and delivered tight, precise blows that dropped them both like rabbits. “That was predictable.” Her rescuer moved his attention to the man she’d laid out on the ground. He considered him for a long moment before switching his gaze to her. “Not bad. Of course, he underestimated you.” “Which was fatal.” She couldn’t stop the retort from slipping past her lips. It wasn’t about being stronger, it was about fighting smarter. Every muscle she had was taut, pulled so tight she wasn’t sure she could relax ever again. “It’s not fatal…yet.” The man in front of her spoke, moving on silent steps towards her victim. “I know a few people who might enjoy changing that.” Venom dripped from his voice. Still hidden from the rest of the world by the gym, Mia started taking tiny steps away from the entire scene. Alarm was racing through her, warning her to escape. She didn’t understand what was happening, only that it seemed to carry fatal consequences with it. She’d never been involved with such raw violence before. A shudder shook her body as she edged further away. That pair of blue eyes homed in on her. “I’m Trace Kocourek. That’s Rowan.” He indicated the other big man behind her. 12
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His dark blue gaze moved over her, inspecting her from her bare toes to the sweat that was slowly drying on her forehead. “We’re friends of Cambria’s.” Her lower lip went dry and she backed up again. The need to escape was pounding through her skull. She forced the urge down, not to argue against the need to place distance between the scene and herself but to fend off panic. Witnessing his ability to deal with two opponents at once had left her with one vital piece of information. This was not a man to panic in front of. Rowan struck her as just as deadly. She stepped away further, her hand rising to warn him away from her retreating form. Trace didn’t respect the gesture. He took two long-legged steps, bringing himself closer to her. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” she said, “but stay back.” He watched her intently, a lot like a boa constrictor before it dropped its body around you and began crushing you to death. “I was following you.” She didn’t think it was possible to be shocked further but his revelation made her gasp. “Why?” Trace stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, as though by refusing to answer her if she kept moving backward would get her to remain on this side of the building. He had a point. She wanted to know. “Cambria has managed to run into some trouble. She sent us to look out for you.” Curiosity was a demon because she wanted to know what he knew about her friend. She debated the wisdom of trusting him enough to listen to him. Her sense of caution prevailed—most murderers didn’t play fair. Mia turned and ran. Fear for her friend made her push off the pavement with each stride. The pain from her feet was completely ignored as the sounds of traffic grew louder, beckoning to her. A hard arm hooked around her waist and she threw her body forward to compensate for his heavier weight—by bending one knee, she used gravity to help her throw him over her back. Martial arts wasn’t about brute strength, it employed science to allow a smaller person to be victorious. Trace cussed as he tumbled right over her. But he rolled as expertly as one of her brothers would have, coming up on his feet perfectly balanced with his hands in front of him. He raised one finger to her. “You need to come with us, Mia.” His deep voice was carefully controlled but she couldn’t afford to gamble on his good character. She might end up losing her life if he turned out to be on the wrong side. “I’m not going anywhere with you…or anyone else.”
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A muscle twitched along his jaw. She backed away from his imposing height. The top of her head barely reached his wide shoulders. He was packed with hard muscle. She could see evidence of it in the way he moved. He was one hundred percent lean power, every motion steady and balanced. He took another step closer to her and panic bubbled up inside her again. She fought the impulse to surrender so easily. Her stupid emotions were not going to see her defeated. “Look around, Mia. Those men were sent to kill you. Kill. This isn’t the kind of thing that you can go and think over. You need to get out of the line of fire. I can help you do that.” “Or maybe you’re part of this whole sick game. Maybe this was just a set-up for you to gain my trust.” She raised her arms, keeping them steady as she tried to glance behind her and get a look at where Rowan was. “The police will take care of me.” “Not a chance.” His eyes glittered as he opened his arms in the same way he had when he’d taken out the two security guards. Her throat tightened as she watched him size her up. “You need better help than the local cops and I promised Dack Tyden that I’d give it to you. The only thing that’s open to discussion is what mode I take you in under.” “I’m not afraid of you.” His eyes flickered with something, some emotion she hadn’t seen on his face before. “Glad to hear it.” There was a touch of heat in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. But he didn’t give her any time to think about it. His body lunged at her in a perfect blending of speed and agility. Her roundhouse kick missed his knee when he jumped at her, leaving the ground. Her foot swept across empty air as his body hit hers, his arms wrapping around her. She was held immobile against his powerful frame. Panic tore at her resolve to remain calm. “Think about it, Mia, he was waiting inside your office wearing gloves. It was a planned attack.” His voice was smooth but she shook her head, refusing to trust him. How could she? He was a stranger. His grip was too strong to get free of now that it was locked around her. There was only one thing left to try. She drew a deep breath, opening her mouth to scream. He muttered under his breath as he clamped a hand over her lips, sealing her scream inside her mouth. She was free a second later. She turned to lock her eyes onto him and that was a mistake. Running would have been wiser. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, staying just far enough out of the reach of her legs. His gaze was on her feet, watching for any motion. That was something you learned in sparing class, keep an eye on the feet and you’d know when the next kick was coming. “Sorry, honey, but we need to make tracks before any more of these guys’ friends show up wondering why they haven’t reported back in.” He lunged at her, grabbing her wrist as he placed his body behind hers.
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Something sharp stung against her arm as he gripped it tightly. He jerked her against his frame as she gasped, his arms imprisoning her once more. She couldn’t raise her hands because her elbows were trapped against her sides. Hard and huge, his body dwarfed hers. She arched out of pure impulse to escape but he held her locked against him. She felt the brush of his breath against her ear. “I’m sorry, Mia, but we just don’t have time to talk you into this. No one will hurt you. You have my word.” “As if…I’—d…tr—ust…yo—u.” Her tongue suddenly stopped working. It lay in her mouth, limp and heavy. She stupidly concentrated on the lump of nonresponsive flesh, attempting to will it into working normally. Dark spots began dancing in front of her eyes as her spine weakened and she sagged against the man holding her. Trace’s embrace eased, becoming sheltering and supportive instead of imprisoning. He turned her, holding her with one arm pressing her against his frame. His right hand rose and he pulled a clear ring off his index finger with his teeth. There was a tiny drop of crimson blood on the underside of it. He spat the ring out of his mouth as she felt the drug it had contained moving up into her brain. There was no holding back the terror that gripped her. Blackness darkened her vision as she sent one last blow towards her captor. Her palm connected with his jaw, but not with enough force to knock him unconscious. Her head fell on his chest as she tried not to sob with horror. Letting him hear her cry would be the ultimate humiliation. But terror followed her into the darkness as she lost her grasp on reality. Rowan bent a knee to pick up the stick injection ring. He studied the markings on it, frowning. Trace bent and let Mia drape over his shoulder before looking at his partner. “I know the dosage is high. I didn’t have time to make one up for a lightweight female.” “She’ll be down for a day.” Rowan considered the three men on the ground, his eyes resting on them. “Keen and Dominic are on their way to help me with these three. I’ll scuttle the security camera tapes.” Rowan held up a hand. “Trade me keys.” Their keys exchanged hands and Trace carried Mia to the black pickup parked in the back of her parking lot. After laying her across the bench seat, he pulled her jacket off and tossed it over her to disguise the shape of a body. Taking the driver’s seat, he pulled smoothly around the building. Smoothly merging into traffic, he kept his speed even and legal to avoid attention. He frowned as he entered the interstate. Her fear was a needle, twisting through his brain. Annoying the crap out of him because he couldn’t yank it free. Although she’d hidden it well, it bothered him to know he’d frightened her. His lips turned up as he replayed the way she’d escaped from her office. The girl had spunk as well as skill. Clearly Mia had spent more than a few hours with her brother in his studio. The training was evident in the way she moved.
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Well, those were the best hours she’d ever invested in anything because they’d saved her life. It took seconds to snap a neck. There would have been no way to prevent it if she hadn’t had the skill and self-control to think her way through finding an assassin in her office. That fact sent heat through his cock again. He cussed low and deep. Attraction was a distraction. It was also a complication that neither of them needed. All right, he didn’t need it. He kept his sexual encounters neat and agreed upon with women who were as elusive as he was. Operatives, a couple of agents and one or two hearty females who lived among the shadows and didn’t flinch at the sight of a gun when they glimpsed it under his pillow. Mia was the opposite of them. She was feminine grace all packaged in a body designed to drive him insane. His cock throbbed behind his fly as he gritted his teeth. His hand strayed to her shoulder, unthinkingly stroking in an effort to soothe. He cussed again when he caught himself petting her. The most important thing he’d learned about her so far…Mia was dangerous. To him.
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Chapter Two Her head was splitting. The kind of headache that made moving your head was a bad idea if you weren’t into painful consequences. Raising one hand, Mia rubbed at her forehead trying to recall if she was sick. Along with the painful brick sitting on her head was a cloud of haze that was making it hard to think. Oh God! She sat up and her eyes flew wide open. Sweet Christ in heaven! She was totally screwed. Moving so fast was a mistake. Her vision blurred, bright spots dancing in the air. Sucking in a huge gulp of air, she tried to keep from passing out. Every muscle she owned began shaking as fatigue wrapped a tight grip around her. She fought against its hold, desperate to remain conscious. A little gasp escaped her mouth as she took in her surroundings. Gleaming dark wood floors covered the huge room from edge to edge. It had to be four times the size of her own bedroom. A thick area rug was set beneath the bed she was lying on. Scooting towards the edge, she slipped down to the floor taking slow steps while she tested her legs. Her stomach twisted with nausea but another few deep breaths steadied her. The bed was huge. It had to be a custom-made model because it looked larger than a California King to her. It looked as though it was made of maple, the four posts a warm shade of honey. Vines were carved into the wood, winding around the posts from floor to ceiling. There were black iron rods that rose even higher in a canopy top that resembled some sultan’s bed. It was certainly a different sort of canopy bed than the little girls’ one she’d slept in yesterday. Delicate persimmon silk twinkling with sequins was hung over the iron. Plump pillows in golds and more persimmon were clustered at the headboard. The thick comforter was soft and inviting with a pattern of pomegranates and birds. The bed reminded her of a sunset with its ruby, gold and persimmon colors. There was a sofa and soft chair sitting on another area rug. Her toes felt a slight chill on the floor. There was no sign of her shoes or jacket or purse. Which meant no cell phone either. The little bit of technology would be her best friend right now. A fireplace was set into the far wall. Orange flames danced behind a glass door, just a hint of blue at the base of the fire to give away the fact that it was a gas-powered blaze. A set of glass ornamental logs in the middle of the flames set a perfect picture without the mess of burning wood.
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Another rug was placed near the fire, a single love seat facing it. Her toes enjoyed the warmth radiating from the flames but she turned and continued her inspection of her prison. Her eyes strayed to a set of double doors. Moving closer, she stared at the ornate brass doorknob. It might not be locked. Oh right! He’d drugged her. Like in some spy movie. In spite of the quiver shaking her legs and the sick feeling in her stomach, she still couldn’t quite believe that someone had kidnapped her. It was almost as if she just didn’t feel important enough to have anyone commit a crime like this one over her. She shivered as she considered the room and just how completely ignorant she was of what had happened after her eyes closed. There was a vague memory of warm, male arms cradling her against a hard chest before everything went black. Great. Going against her parents’ wishes had landed her in trouble. They had always warned her to stay close to the family. Trust should be reserved for those who earned it. She knew Cambria. Her hand covered her mouth as she thought about her friend. Cambria couldn’t have been involved in anything like this. Mia refused to believe it. Trace had been lying. A solid knock landed on the door. Her eyes moved rapidly around the area, landing on a glass sculpture sitting near the door. She hefted it then flattened her body against the wall as the door opened. “Why don’t you set that down before you drop it?” Her captor didn’t enter the room. Unlike her bedroom at home, this set of doors opened out into the hallway. He’d pulled the door open and looked on either side of the door frame before crossing into the room. His eyes were locked on her and her makeshift weapon. “I’ll be happy to wait until you weaken enough to lower it. If the shaking of your arm is any indication, it won’t be long. Unless you’d prefer to wrestle. I guess I can accommodate you if you want to take a swing at me. Again.” He stepped forward, his attention fixed on her face. She stepped away from him out of instinct, her brain still too foggy to argue against the impulse. His body was so much larger than hers and he appeared to know how to use it. His chin tucked low as he watched her, his arms held slightly away from his body in case he needed to deflect an attempt on him. He was perfectly calm, waiting to see what she would do. That was the mark of a man who had trained. He was controlling his emotions so that she couldn’t take advantage of a mistake made through impulse. The sculpture became too heavy, her hands sinking until it was resting against her breasts. “No wrestling? What a shame.” There was a hint of mocking frustration in his tone. “Maybe another time.”
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“I need to go home.” Her voice sounded hollow compared to her normal poised tone. Forcing a deep breath down her throat, she lifted her chin. “I am going home.” This time her words came out in a solid demand. Trace pulled the door shut in response. She remained mute for a long moment because it was hard to absorb that this was really happening. People didn’t really refuse to let someone go home. That sort of thing only happened in books. He reached out and grasped the glass sculpture in his large hand. She jumped away from his touch, releasing the would-be weapon the second his hand got too close to her. Heat burned across her cheeks as she realized what a ninny she must look like. It was so stupid but she still wasn’t thinking fast enough to head off her impulses. Trace sat the glass back on the end table before crossing his arms over his chest. There was a deep frown on his face that even wrinkled his forehead. Indecision flickered in his eyes as he surveyed her from top to bottom. “I’m sorry, but the drug will wear off in another hour. You’ll feel fine tomorrow after a night’s sleep.” Her hand sailed through the air between them as he mentioned what he’d done to her. Her temper exploded as he stood calmly discussing the fact that he’d drugged her. The slap never landed. His hand rose, his forearm blocking her blow. His hand opened and captured her wrist. His fingers slid over the tender skin searching out her pulse. “As much as I might deserve it, I think we’ll pass on the physical chastisement.” He smoothed his thumb over the skin of her inner wrist. Sensation shot up her arm, raising gooseflesh as it went. “You can sit down or fall down. I suggest you sit, honey.” The kindness coating his words was a mortal blow to her pride. Tears threatened to flood her eyes as she failed to fend off a wave of helplessness. The fact that he felt sorry for her only meant that he knew how helpless she really was. Despair almost knocked her over but she refused to crumple so easily. “I do not need to sit down. I am going home.” He moved into the room, leaving the door within her reach. “Really? I thought you valued your parents more than that, Mia.” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He turned, his lips set in a mocking grin. “Actually, you should be happy to hear it coming across my lips. It denotes recognition of your worth as a person. A kidnapper who will kill a hostage avoids learning any personal information about his expendable guests.” The confident manner and smugness of his tone infuriated her. His eyes were a steely shade of blue that was darker than she had ever seen. At the moment, she was sure it was some kind of sign about how dark his soul was. Fine, she was thinking like her grandmother now, looking for things to support her superstitions. There was also a slight accent on his words, a Russian one. That only fed her image of him belonging in a spy movie more. 19
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“You may not use my name.” Something flickered in his eyes. A tingle crossed her flesh as she watched his eyes glitter. His lips twitched slightly, curving at the corners before he pressed them back into a firm line. “As you like, but it could get interesting after a while in each other’s company without a name.” His mouth curved now, his voice deepening. “I suppose I’ll just have to be creative.” His gaze swept over her, leaving heat behind. She curled her lips back, a soft snarl making it through her clenched teeth. “Stop looking me over…you manhandler.” She should have made Cambria teach her how to cuss. Trace was suppressing the urge to grin at her insult. She saw the telltale flicker of amusement in his eyes. “There’s not a bruise on you, not even a tiny scratch, caused by my handling.” “You drugged me.” He stepped closer and she retreated. This time he frowned as he froze, almost as if he didn’t like knowing that she was uncomfortable being near him. It was a stupid thing to think. After all, the man had kidnapped her in order to bring her here. Her opinion couldn’t be too valuable in his eyes. “Have a seat, Mi—” He frowned as he cut her name off. “Have a seat and I’ll try to explain why you’re here.” He moved to the sofa and sat down. The unguarded doorway teased her with the possibility that she might get it locked on the other side before he made it across the room. But he was right about one thing, her muscles were quivering. Weakness ran through her like a stream, carrying away her strength. But the door was still closer… “Go ahead and try it. Like I said, I’ll be happy to wrestle with you if you give me the excuse.” “Do you think I’m afraid of you?” His voice said he did. “Well, I’m not.” His eyes narrowed. But his lips moved against each other in a motion that was frankly…sexual. Her hands curled into claws as she ordered her brain to stop thinking about him as anything attractive. “That’s another topic completely.” His leaned back against the padded arm of the sofa. He looked relaxed except for the sharp attention in his eyes. She studied the distance between them, measuring it with her eyes. “Come and sit down or give it your best shot.” Her temper flared up but not quite enough to burn away her common sense. The smug tone of his voice infuriated her but she wasn’t quite willing to test it. Confidence like that didn’t come from false bravado. At least not in this man. He wasn’t like a lot of people in the world who believed they were a force to be reckoned with even when
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they hadn’t prepared for it. This man was trained. Her struggle with him earlier was proof of that. “Or I could just come back tomorrow when you’re in a better mood to talk.” She hissed at him, frustration pushing her past a lifetime of polite instruction from her family. One dark eyebrow rose. He looked at the chair and back at her. Demand was written on his face. She chewed on her lower lip as she looked at the chair. Tomorrow was an eternity away. At least it felt like that, considering she was his captive. “I doubt you can explain drugging me.” Stepping forward, Mia gasped as her legs wobbled. The wall had been supporting her far more than she admitted. A movement from the sofa caught her eye and she looked up to see Trace already on his feet. There hadn’t been even a whisper from his pants. Gritting her teeth, she forced her feet to obey her brain and walk. Sweat popped out on her forehead but she made it to the chair, gratefully sinking into it as she glared at her company. “So begin explaining.” Trace sat down, a hint of amusement back in his eyes. “That pride must be hard to chew.” “Honor is never too heavy.” She clamped her jaw shut so fast, her teeth clicked, sending a bolt of agony down all the roots. Curse her rotten luck, the remnants of the drug were still making her helpless. She needed to keep her personal feelings hidden deep down inside her. This man was dangerous. He looked it and she felt it prickling down her spine as his blue eyes focused on her again. “This might be easier for you to understand if you can say something like that.” There was a hint of admiration in his tone now. That horrified her as much as the trace of attraction did. “Your friend Cambria has managed to drag you into an interesting dilemma.” Mia tried to remain enraged. Trace’s voice was even and steady as he spoke but his eyes held her attention. You could tell when a man lied. They looked away or ducked their chins. Trace stared straight at her, his face a mask of serious determination. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled some photos from it. He was out of his seat before she realized it, the photos offered to her. “That’s what Ramos did to her townhouse. Burned the entire row down and the four unit complex behind Cambria’s.” The pictures were nauseating—charcoaled rubble where her best friend’s condo had stood just last weekend. “Your friend is fine, only due to the fact that she wasn’t sleeping there.” “This could have been an accident.” A terrible, logically explainable fire that didn’t have anything to do with mercenaries. “In fact, you might have gotten these from any fire scene. There is nothing here that even looks like Cambria’s place.”
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That sounded much better. Relief swept through her as she tossed the photos onto the side table, grateful to have them out of her hands. Trace sighed softly. Her gaze moved to his face, trying to read his expression. But his features were set into a mask that she couldn’t deduce even one clue from. He stood up, somehow managing to look bigger than she’d already noticed he was. Her eyes ended up staring straight at his crotch. Heat flared across her cheeks as she noticed the bulge pushing the fabric outward. His cock had to be large. Her feet scraped against the floor as she scampered to her feet. Her muscles refused to cooperate with her need to escape from being so close to him, her legs buckling as her arms reached for anything to stop her fall. What she grasped was hard male. Trace scooped her up as her fingers, fueled by the instinct to avoid crashing into the floor, closed around his biceps. But the firm muscle beneath his cotton shirt transmitted itself even as she tried to force herself to ignore it. She failed miserably. He felt amazing. Never once had she encountered a man she enjoyed touching so much. Her breath rattled out of her throat as she smothered a moan. How could she notice such a thing about him? “You need another twelve hours before your system’s clear.” He turned with her clasped against his chest. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.” “I am going home. I really need to go home. My parents must be sick with worry.” He angled his head to glare at her. Hard determination coated his features as he moved across the floor. Held against his chest, she felt the powerful way he moved. Heat flowed down her spine as she felt how warm he was through their clothing. The scent of his skin teased her with just how good he smelled. She’d never considered any man good smelling and tonight was a horrible time to discover such a personal detail. “I’ll contact your family. We’ll debate what course of action to take tomorrow. For now, you’re in no condition to defend yourself. Since I’m responsible for that, I will look after you.” The bed gave as it took her weight, the mattress conforming to her body’s curves. It was some sort of memory form, thick and inviting in spite of her determination to get off it. Her body, on the other hand, flatly refused, unable to respond. Trace considered her for a long moment, his eyes studying her face. His lips pressed into a hard line as he came to some sort of decision. “Trust me, you won’t get very far if you drag yourself to the door.” He smoothed a hand over her cheek, igniting another blush as their skin connected. Jerking her face away from his hand took an amazing amount of effort. “You’ll do yourself more harm if you try it.” She glared at him. “As if I believe anything you say.” He sighed, a slight shaking of his head betraying his frustration. “That’s what I was afraid you say.”
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He leaned over the bed, cupping her neck in one firm hand. He raised her up until she was sitting up. Her vision sparkled with black spots. Taking a deep breath, she failed to notice that he released her nape and hooked his fingers into the bottom of her blouse. With a firm tug it went up over her head, his strength pulling her arms upward so it slipped right off her body. “I’ll keep these so you’ll stay right where you’re at.” She shrieked and lost her balance, flopping back onto the bed. He gripped her pants and unhooked her waistband as she clawed at his arms. Her nails didn’t impress him. He dragged her pants down her legs as she rolled across the bed to escape. “You…you…bastard.” Her words got muffled in the mattress as she tried to push her body up with her hands. He grasped the hooks on the back of her bra and unlatched them as she howled with fury. “I don’t want you dealing with a concussion because you tried to make a break for it with your brain still fogged over. Stripping you will keep you in bed.” He pulled the bra off her squirming body as she panted and tried to scrounge up more strength to fight him with. Her well-aimed slaps didn’t even pop when she landed one on his cheek. Her hand fell away like a cold noodle. She shivered as she rolled over with the last of her strength to avoid having her breasts on display. Shame, thick and choking, filled her, sending tears into her eyes. “Please go away.” The coverlet fluttered over her instead. One firm hand clasped her shoulder, pushing on it until she rolled back onto her back. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt her body yielding to his strength. But he didn’t look at her exposed breasts. He tucked the coverlet up to her chin as he kept his gaze on her face. A warm hand clasped the back of her head, raising it just a little as he pulled her hair to the side so that it smoothed down over her shoulder. Shock froze the last of her functioning brain cells as he settled her head comfortably on the pillow, making sure her hair wasn’t being pulled. He nodded as she relaxed against the bed, her fingers grasping the coverlet to keep it in place. “Stay in bed, for both our sakes.” His voice was rough. She might even believe it was due to distaste but she reminded herself that he was a kidnapper. The photos were just some scheme to disarm her and make her docile. He reached into his shirt pocket, retrieving a slim cell phone. “If you need anything, just press the send key.” He placed it on the bedside table as she curled her fingers into the fabric shielding her from his keen gaze. The bed rocked gently as he stood up. “It isn’t an open line. Just a communication link. Don’t use it unless you want company. Your privacy will be respected otherwise.” She scoffed at his promise, holding onto the comforter with her last bits of strength. Trace opened his mouth but shut it again without offering her any more words designed to lure her into trusting him. He nodded before turning and moving to the 23
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door. Her clothing hung from one hand as he pushed the doors open with a hard shove that betrayed how frustrated he was. But it also demonstrated how much control he’d used while stripping her. Another moan passed her lips as her nipples tingled. Beneath the soft fabric, each tender peak began to pucker. She just couldn’t help it. A man with discipline was sexy. Her eyes fluttered shut and her memory offered up a crystal-clear recollection of his crotch. Both nipples drew tighter, sensation racing into her core as the down coverlet moved against them. All the tiny nerve endings were ultrasensitive, making her mutter as her brain clouded over into sleep. But it wasn’t peaceful. Trace followed her, his dark blue eyes watching her. The control of his touch taunting her with possibilities she had no right to think of in connection with a kidnapper. Her nipples didn’t care. They remained hard as her passage began to heat, longing for a taste of that cock. It shocked her, horrified her, but the worst thing was it excited her.
***** Trace sent his fist into the wall. It shook as the drywall groaned. “That’s going to cost you to replace.” Rowan sounded amused. That meant Trace could kill him. “I don’t fucking care.” Looking around, Trace lost the urge to kill when he got a full look at Rowan. Dark streaks ran over one side of his jaw. The scars were a little souvenir from a mission gone sour. He carried identical ones on his back. “You’ve got a full house tonight.” Trace didn’t care about the club above his head. He should have. The Play Yard was his main source of income. A “members-only” retreat for Special Operations men. It was relaxing and sultry enough to ease them back into civilization. His private living space was below the members’ floor. He tossed Mia’s clothing over a chair then stretched his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. He was better than this. Missions did not get to him. He’d remained loose and confident during raids that had left scars on his and Rowan’s flesh, but one little Asian package was tying knots in his neck. “She’s getting to you.” Rowan wasn’t amused now. His long-time partner spoke quietly, his voice low enough to mask his emotions. “Or should I say, she’s gotten to you.” “I don’t like drugging females. That’s all.” Rowan didn’t agree. Trace knew the look in his eyes by heart because they’d worked together too long. His long-time comrade saw too much. “I can take her with me.”
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Denial shot through Trace at light speed. “No.” Rowan crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure about that? This kind of problem doesn’t go away. Not when the pretty little female is in your space. If I take her, you’ll get over it, or at least you won’t get any deeper.” Rowan’s voice was full of knowledge that only a man who knew you too well could sound like. The man understood what kind of woman got under his skin. Trace shrugged. There was no point in lying to Rowan. Housing Mia under his roof was bothering him. But that didn’t mean he wanted to hand her over, even if it was the smarter thing to do. “It’s just a gender issue. I’ll adjust. It might even be a good exercise for me. Maybe it will teach me self-discipline.” Rowan flashed him a grin. “I’m not betting any my money on that. She isn’t the sort of female you wash out of your thoughts easily. Or ignore.” “Curiosity always passes. She’s just different from the women I associate with normally.” That had to be it. He didn’t need to think about how good she smelled or he was going to end up in hell. Rock-hard cock sort of hell. He was a man who understood his own nature. That was one of the keys to becoming the sort of soldier who returned home breathing. Lust wasn’t something that took over easily. He often didn’t have sex for months because running his club and keeping a handle on the more shadowy portions of his life had to take priority. Returning home alive was where most people thought a Special Operations man found relaxation. That was nothing but a civilian’s fantasy, spun by politicians who wanted the voters to think the world was safe for baby kissing and lemonade stands. What no one wanted to face was the retribution that often clung to the heels of the returned servicemen. Being successful at missions meant there were a few people out in the world who would love a chance to get even. That fact made it a good idea to keep tabs on his fellow comrades. Rowan owned another club a few miles away. Between the two of them, they had controlling interests in four other nightclubs. But each of them had a home. The Play Yard was his. Personally designed from the foundation up, it was his castle. And for the first time he’d brought a lady to it. There was a surge of satisfaction that followed that thought. He tried to banish it but the unexpected emotion persisted. “How’s the office girl?” Rowan shook his head. “There’s no hope. Her neck was snapped. The brain stem was keeping her respiration going. She’s nothing but an organ donor now.” And it was his job to keep Mia from joining her staff. He swallowed the distaste clinging to his tongue. He hadn’t been rough. Sometimes, being tough on someone made them stronger, helped them to survive. There were a few drill instructors in his past that he’d cursed to hell and back, right up until he lived through missions that shredded men alongside him. He was strong because someone had applied the flames
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that forged him. Mia would come to understand that. Or she just might try to kill him while he attempted to get it into her head. A grin decorated his lips as he considered the battle ahead. Oh yes, Mia was dangerous. She was as potent as the drug he’d used on her. But that didn’t mean he was planning on losing. Not a chance.
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Chapter Three “Wake up, Princess.” Cambria’s face swam before her eyes as she blinked. Mia smiled at her friend but her vision changed and she was suddenly staring at Trace. Only Cambria called her princess. His face leaned towards her until she smelled his skin again. Her nipples tingled as heat flowed through her belly to swirl around her clit. Her hips arched as her eyelashes fluttered and she looked up into the persimmon silk draping the black iron canopy. She hissed but froze as her stomach heaved. Fighting against the comforter, she surged out of the bed, looking frantically for the bathroom. Her bare feet slapped against the polished wood floor as she sprinted for the arched doorway near the back of the room. Five minutes later, she was miserable but confident that she was going to live. Her stomach was a cramped mass of knots that hurt every time she inhaled. Pushing herself up, she surveyed the rest of the bathroom. It was a dream come true. A full Jacuzzi sat in one corner. An ornate shower was off to one side, three shower heads set into the dark blue tile at different heights. There were chrome and porcelain fixtures and gold marble counter tops. A selection of soaps sat near the sink just like you’d expect to find at an upscale hotel. Lifting one of the soaps to her nose, she inhaled the soft jasmine fragrance. When she replaced it, she sniffed and noticed how rank she was. Her mind was groggy and she seemed to have lost track of time. There wasn’t a clock in the bathroom but what she really wanted was a calendar. Her nose wrinkled as she caught another whiff of herself. Picking up the soap again she moved to the shower and turned one of the faucets on. Steam began filling the glass stall almost instantly. The mirrors showed her a head full of tangles. Only her panties remained on her body, but they felt stuck to her. She pushed them down her legs and moaned as her stomach sent out another protest. Great. What didn’t ache, stank. Her breath must be horrible too. There were smudges left from her eyeliner and her eyelashes were mashed together from sleeping with her makeup on. Stepping into the shower, she started to scrub, freeing herself from the things that she could. She lingered under the hot water, taking longer than necessary because the heat soothed her achy muscles. She turned off the water with a sigh, reaching for a thick towel. A search of the bathroom drawers produced a hair brush and even a new toothbrush along with paste. A thick terrycloth robe hung behind a cabinet door and she gratefully shrugged into it, giving the belt a firm knot. Pulling the brush through 27
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her hair, she finally straightened it out but not without leaving a number of dark strands on the bristles. Moving back into the bedroom, she froze as she looked at the bed. It was perfectly neat. Walking closer, she stared at the fresh pillowcases. There wasn’t a crease in sight and she could smell the freshly laundered scent. Her clothes were hanging from the top of the foot post, a thin plastic bag covering them to tell her that somehow Trace had gotten it all dry-cleaned. Even the bra had been pressed. Her cheeks heated up as she discovered a new set of lacy underwear included. Those keen blue eyes hadn’t missed any detail last night. Even if she might have wished otherwise. That’s not quite true…and you know it. She frowned as her inner voice taunted her. It was imperative that she blame her excitement on the drug. She needed to discard the way she’d woken up with Trace in her dreams as nothing but trauma from her current ordeal. Good luck… Her cheeks grew hotter as her nipples tingled. Arousal snaked through her, touching off a hundred different spots of sensation. She was keenly aware of the terry cloth where her hard nipples poked against it. She suddenly felt the belt, as though it was too tight. Her skin was just somehow more sensitive. Reaching for her clothing, she took it back to the bathroom. Getting back into her own things would help her tighten her composure. The sedate pants and modest top would send the correct message to her body. Except that it didn’t. The heat blossomed into full arousal, her clit throbbing softly between the folds of her sex. A tiny quiver raced down her body as she faced the fact that she wasn’t able to talk herself out of her attraction to Trace. It was horrifying but exciting too. Biting her lower lip, she reentered the bedroom, scanning it suspiciously. She stopped when she spotted a tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa. After double-checking the room, she moved closer to it. Large silver domes were sitting over the plates. Another one of those luxury touches. A single sheet of paper lay on the corner of the tray. You need your strength. I’d hate to win anything by default. Her lips curled into a smile but her stomach cramped up as well. There was still a tremor of weakness running through her legs. Low blood sugar wasn’t something her pride could overcome. Still, she didn’t like being watched like some virgin newly installed in the harem. Trace’s image sprang to mind instantly, except she couldn’t picture him sending an army of concubines to dress her for his pleasure. No, the man would delight in doing the job of fetching her himself. Looking around the room, she couldn’t find the camera. But it could be in a hundred places with modern technology allowing lenses to be tiny. But she was hungry, and camera or no camera the tray was very welcome. She carefully lifted one of the silver domes. A little white puff of steam escaped. There was a 28
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standard American breakfast waiting there. Eggs, scrambled and over-easy. Toast, hash browns and oatmeal. Covering it back up, she investigated the second dome. She couldn’t help but smile—this plate was an Asian offering. Spring rolls, rice, fresh vegetables and a pair of chopsticks. In the middle of the tray there was a neatly sliced selection of fruit. One pot of coffee, another of green tea, and orange juice accompanied the food. There was far too much for one person but each item was only a small portion. The attention to her personal comfort wasn’t lost. She might be angry but she couldn’t be so spiteful as to not notice when someone took the time to try to please her. Not that she had any intention of making things simple for her captor. Sitting down, she began eating, making sure to eat some of every dish offered. She ate with the chopsticks and the fork, tasting every type of fruit but not finishing any offering completely. Instead she stopped eating after only a few bites of each. Let Trace try to decipher that. The only thing she left untested was the coffee. She had never been a fan of java. Filling one of the small, ceramic tea cups, she took it to the bathroom with her. She brushed her teeth again, longing for her makeup, but settled instead for another pass of the brush through her hair. The nape of her neck prickled with tension as she stepped through the doorway, looking around to see what had changed this time. “If you’re not impressed, I’ve got to say that you’re mighty hard to please.” Hesitating in the doorway, she stared at Trace. He was lounging on the sofa facing the bathroom. Wearing a loose pair of canvas pants, he had a button down shirt on with the long sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. “Keep eating like that and my staff will deliver two trays by dinner. They enjoy a challenge.” “I will be having supper with my family.” His face lost its teasing look. She was sure she detected a slight tensing of his body as he glared at her. “So you don’t mind if a few of Chuck’s buddies show up, maybe burn the place down like they did Cambria’s? Or break someone’s neck like they did to your office girl?” “Karen’s neck was broken?” Her breakfast was suddenly not sitting so well. She covered her mouth with a hand as horror filled her. “She was still breathing…” All at once she felt so trapped. “This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not an important kind of person.” And she would cheerfully remain just another girl among the masses if it meant leaving murders behind. Trace was suddenly the only link she had to dealing with the dilemma. The powerful way he dealt with Chuck’s comrades replayed across her mind making her almost desperate to toss the whole sordid mess into his hands. She folded her legs up so that she was hugging her knees as her thoughts raced. “You’re the sacrificial lamb someone wants to make an example of.”
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There was heat in his voice and it surprised her. It touched the arousal that had been teasing her, fanning the flame. The blush on her face renewed its burn but this time Trace was too close. His eyes homed in on the stain instantly and she watched his mouth press into a hard line. It was just a bare moment, silent, but it felt as if they were both shouting. The air between them felt charged with some current that snapped and crackled while it forced them both to notice the strange connection. Mia shook it off. She was so tempted to believe him, to believe in him. Sitting in front of her was that thing she’d often dreamed about—powerful, dangerous—but she had to remember that he wasn’t attracted to her. Building any sort of attachment to him was an invitation to heartbreak. “You might just want me to think someone wants to hurt me.” His jaw tensed, that twitch returning as she watched frustration fill his eyes. “Get real. What kind of girl tosses her trust at a man she meets while someone is trying to murder her?” “The kind of girl who recognizes a decent human being opposed to scum that wait for her wearing leather gloves.” Her retort froze on her lips. Shame for labeling him as one of the bad guys clogged her throat. She stared at him, trying desperately to see into him, maybe actually find some hint as to his true personality. It was impossible, of course, but she still felt guilty for questioning his motives, and telling herself that she had good reason to doubt everything around her didn’t stop the gnawing guilt. The hand he had resting on the arm of the sofa was white knuckled betraying his high level of emotions. It didn’t show on his face though. Only that twitch along his jaw gave her any clue to his mood. “Come on.” He stood up as though he just couldn’t stay still a second longer. “We’re going on a field trip.” “That sounds good.” Getting out of her prison was definitely a step in the right direction. One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Don’t get any ideas, Princess. I’m not the worst thing looking for you. Leaving my side would be a bad idea.” Mia held her response behind tight lips. He moved towards her and she backed up instantly, awareness ricocheting through her nervous system. Too close to the sofa, she knocked her own knees out from under her. It was a stupid thing to do. One of those clumsy mistakes you made when your mind wasn’t paying attention to regular things. She’d been so focused on Trace that she had actually forgotten to look where she was stepping. Trace moved like lightning, his hands hooking her body around the waist. A second later, she was held flush against his body. This time she wasn’t distracted by panic. She felt every hard ridge of flesh. He controlled his strength expertly once again, drawing a tiny gasp from her lips. She wasn’t sure if the sound she made emerged from being held against him or the way he handled her. Her hands found his chest, pushing against the thick pectoral muscles. The warm scent of his skin filled her senses, robbing her of logical thought. In fact, her entire body wanted to melt.
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“Easy, Princess.” His voice was husky and full of male promise. Raising her eyes to his, she shivered as she witnessed the flicker of heat in his gaze. Her lips parted and his attention instantly dropped to them, his gaze lingering on her mouth. Everything suddenly began to collapse inward onto her. She needed someone to hold on to. Her eyes rounded with alarm as she pushed against his chest. “You’re probably right about keeping distance between us. Even if the chemistry is there.” He spun her loose, lifting her off her feet for a second as he moved her away from the sofa. “We don’t need the complication of attraction.” Her face burned as her nipples drew taut. Crossing her arms over her chest to conceal the little bumps made her feel like a teenager caught kissing by her parents on the front porch. Being so helpless against her own body frustrated her. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not attracted to you.” Her voice sounded grumpy and maybe a little bitchy too. A warm hand cupped her chin. Trace hooked her waistband with the other hand and closed the distance between their bodies. A ragged breath shook her as she stared into his eyes. This time there was no misinterpreting what she witnessed there. It was hunger. Hard, hot and very male. “You mean no ideas of my own?” He clicked his tongue in reprimand as he lowered his head to hers. She jerked, trying to retreat, but the hand on her waistband held her in place. “That’s mighty selfish of you, Princess. It seems only fair that I get to have a few ideas of my own, to match up with the ones going through your pretty head.” She shook her head, lifting her chin out of his grip. He let her go, she knew it and shivered as every inch of her skin begged to be touched by him. His hand slid down the column of her neck, the fingers stretching around the tender flesh. She jerked against his hold on her waistband and he released her instead of allowing the garment to dig into her belly. He used the hand on her throat to capture her again, this time allowing her to turn away from him, thinking that she was escaping. Instead his fingers glided around the soft skin of her neck as he stepped up behind her. His forearm clamped down across her sternum, the hand on her neck tightening just enough to promise pain if she moved. Behind her, his body was hard and imprisoning. His thumb stroked up to the soft spot beneath her chin, pressing until she lifted it, her head leaning back against his chest. The hold was frightening. There wasn’t a bit of pain, only the recognition of just how simple it would be for him to crush her throat. She shivered as arousal burned through her. She shouldn’t find it exciting. The touch should have sickened her, drawing to mind the sight of Karen lying broken on the floor of her office. Instead, she noticed the difference between Chuck and Trace. No black leather gloves, just the warm, male skin of his hands resting against her. His breath teased her ear as he bent his head.
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“The problem with humans is we resist what nature likes to control.” A soft kiss landed on her neck and she whimpered as her hips jerked. A soft chuckle brushed past her ear as the hand on her throat gently stroked the column. “Ideas spring to mind in spite of every discipline known to mankind.” “Release me.” Her own voice shocked her. It was husky and foreign. Trace pressed his lower body against her, letting her feel the hard erection hidden behind his loose-fitting pants. Her hips jerked away from his and he chuckled at her. “All right, Princess. Have it your way.” He released her and she stumbled across the floor, tripping on the edge of the area rug. Turning a seething glare at him, she froze when she looked at his face. Harsh and cut with determination, she recognized it from those moments when he’d faced off with the two security guards. This man didn’t know defeat. He didn’t even allow himself to understand the concept. “We’ll have to try it my way later.” Trace sounded too confident and too sexy for her own good. When life got complicated, it certainly did it in a big way.
***** “Not going to ask me where we’re going?” Mia resisted the urge to turn her head to look at Trace. She needed to keep her brain in gear and for some annoying reason he had a habit of getting in the way of clear thinking. It was moments like this that she missed Cambria most. Her girlfriend could snap her fingers and set a man straight with one, sharply worded comment. Still, she hadn’t exactly been the helpless counterpart in her friendship with Cambria. Trace wasn’t so big that he couldn’t trip over his own ego. “Haven’t you ever met a woman who doesn’t feel the need to chatter?” Keeping her eyes on the road, she bit into her lower lip to keep her mouth smooth and expressionless. He chuckled. The sound shouldn’t have been legal. Liquid heat flowed down her body in response. She ordered it to stop but her flesh turned traitor, warming and clamoring for another encounter with his touch. “A woman who has that much self-discipline is rare.” Mia lost the battle to ignore him as she heard the note of respect in his voice. Sure, lots of men complained about talkative dates but they also griped about a woman who wouldn’t tell them what she wanted. The vast majority of them never understood that sometimes being an attentive listener was a good way to go. Trace laughed at the suspicious look she flashed him. “Careful, Princess, I’m beginning to like you.”
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Her face flamed as she jerked her attention to the road in front of them. Like? There was no beginning about it—his cock had been harder than steel against her bottom, taunting her with just how good it might feel to let him use it on her. She licked her lower lip as she tried not to gasp with surprise. How could her body settle on him? Her captor? Her virginity had been so stubbornly resistant to everyone she liked. It had to be the fallout from the stress. Mental instability that would, of course, heal once she was back to real life. “I’m not a princess.” She spoke softly because he was actually respecting her wishes by not calling her by her name. Lashing out at him would only color her as immature. “That’s debatable. Maybe I think you’re worthy of being placed on a pedestal. That’s the risk you take when you allow someone to call you what they will.” Mia looked at him again because there was something in his tone that she couldn’t quite decipher. Her aroused flesh wanted it to be respect because she could like a man who valued her as more than a convenient screw. They turned a corner and she recognized the area. Sitting forward in her seat, she felt a prickle of tension cover her neck. The neighborhood was familiar, her eyes identifying businesses as Trace drove towards Cambria’s condo. Her fingers dug into her pants as she realized exactly what he was doing. Ice felt as if it was flowing through her veins, because if he was taking her to Cambria’s, the possibility of the photos being fake wasn’t very high. Her teeth bit into her lower lip as they took the last turn. She covered her mouth with a hand to keep the sound of distress inside. She wanted to wail. Horror flooded her as she stared at the blackened foundation. A backhoe was busy scooping up charred rubble and placing it into a dump truck. Thick, black ash blew in streams through the morning air as the load hit the bed of the dump truck. She shook her head, trying to force her eyes to change what they saw. Trace drew his truck over to the side of the road, leaving the engine running. “No one died, which is a small miracle considering how little time Cambria’s neighbors had to evacuate.” Trace’s voice was grave. Lowering her hand, Mia swallowed hard. “You weren’t lying.” She was thinking out loud, the words just crossing her lips as she watched another scoop of burned debris go into the bed of the truck. “Believe it or not, Princess, I don’t get my kicks out of drugging my company.” She shivered. Fear wiggled past her discipline to steel her composure. “I just don’t understand how this could really happen to me.” Lamb… Mia turned her head to stare at Trace. He’d called her a sacrificial lamb. It wasn’t happening to her at all. Her temper exploded and she growled. Every polite manner she had vaporized as she snarled and looked back at the rubble. “I am not going to be anyone’s sacrificial lamb.”
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She was going to call her brothers, every uncle and all the nephews and their friends too! For twenty-six years her extended family had been clustered tightly around her. Well today she was going unleash them. She fumbled for the latch on her seatbelt. A large hand closed around her wrist. “Not so fast, Princess.” She raised enraged eyes at him, unwilling to back down for anyone. The need for vengeance was racing through her veins. “No one uses me as a sacrificial lamb. My uncles will kick their asses.” “Or end up dead.” She scoffed at him. “You don’t know my family very well. A lot of white guys think Korean people are too timid to take care of trash, but you just wait. They’ve selected the wrong piece of livestock this time.” “You might be surprised what I understand about your family.” His fingers remained tight around her wrist. “I was born in the Soviet Union. I know the difference between self-control and weakness.” He did. A chill shot down her skin as she recalled in vivid detail the way he had held her. It had been so damn exciting because of the control he held over his own strength. The experience was going to haunt her. Show up in her dreams to torment her with the possibilities of just how he handled a woman when she became his lover. “My family will take care of me.” A dark eyebrow lifted. “How many people live in your house?” “Why?” She twisted her wrist trying to free it but Trace held tight. Her temper wasn’t putting up with his attitude. Angling her hand around his wrist, she leaned closer to him so that she could slide her hand up his forearm. Done at just the right angle, there was no way for him to maintain his grip on her wrist. He frowned at her as she sat back on her side of the truck. A glitter of amusement brightened his eyes a second later. “Fine by me. Take off and we’ll just have to try that wrestling option.” “Why?” She was honestly perplexed by his level of devotion. “I mean, why are you willing to put yourself out for me? We’re complete strangers.” A little sting of regret ripped into her heart as she handed him a perfect excuse to cut her loose. “Your friend Cambria has hooked up with a very important friend of mine. That partially makes you and I family.” “You’re devoted to your friends.” He found her comment funny his lips twitching up into a grin. “In a felony kind of way. Kidnapping isn’t funny.” “I wasn’t laughing at the guys who were trying to snap your neck, Princess.” All traces of humor vanished as he pulled the truck away from the curb. “You don’t have to like it, but the kind of trouble you’re in isn’t something you should take home to your parents. Think about that good and hard before you try to make a run at the first 34
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red traffic light we come to. Dack called me for a reason. I can protect you. Your brothers’ martial arts training isn’t any good against an assault rifle.” He slid a glance over to her. “And you need to think about the members of your family who don’t work out every day. The old, the young…what’s your plan for dealing with rockets fired off at night? Cambria’s brother sprinted down the hallway and jumped from a secondstory window to escape.” “Remington?” Trace nodded, tension turning his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Her cheeks burned again but this time it was with shame. Trace hadn’t asked for her to be dropped in his lap. There was a part of her that wanted to remain suspicious but it was becoming harder to think of him as a villain. He’d have bruised her without a twinge of conscience if he were callous. Possibly hit her too, just to keep her cowering in fear of more pain from his hands. “I need to talk to Cambria.” He nodded, his attention on traffic. “You can’t use your phone but you can use one of my secure lines.” “I meant in person.” She just couldn’t help but toss in that condition. A voice on the other end of a phone line could be doubted. He took a deep breath and let it out. “That will prove difficult.” Her eyes narrowed and she heard him mutter something in a language she didn’t understand. “Cambria and you need to stay separated if there’s any hope of Ramos losing interest in you.” Trace turned another corner and pulled up to a red light. He turned his head, staring at her, waiting to see what she would do. Both of his hands were on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip. “If you run straight to her, he’ll think the connection between you is strong enough to be worth attempting to exploit it.” It was a solid attempt at explaining the situation to her. It was so tempting to believe him. Just let herself buy into the whole idea that there was, in fact, someone out there who didn’t mind killing and seemed to think that it was acceptable to murder because they were mad at someone else. “Why is this Ramos mad at your friend Dack?” Trace whistled softly. “It more complicated than just anger, Princess. There’s major money involved. Men like Ramos will kill over the sum I’m talking about. Dack ended up dragged into it because he was too good at what he did and wasn’t a rat traitor. Ramos wanted Dack and his men on board with black-market dealings. Dack wouldn’t betray his oath as an officer or his own morals. So Ramos is majorly pissed that Dack blew the whistle on him. He’ll do a lot to try to make Dack back down. Trust me, I know my buddy—Dack doesn’t know how to back down.” Words failed her as his explanation sank in. It was all starting to sound like it made sense, which it shouldn’t. There was a part of her brain that simply didn’t want to 35
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believe that things happened like this. It was a lot safer to remain firm in her belief that plots like this one were only fiction. But Cambria’s house was still a pile of rubble and there was no way to reason that away. Or forget that Karen had been lying on her office floor. When she factored in the fact that Chuck had really been wearing those black leather gloves, a shiver raced down her spine. She crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing at the goose bumps decorating her arms. She suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes focusing on the street they were driving down. She knew where she was. That tempting piece of information needled her as the seconds ticked by. A red light had never lasted so long. Stepping out onto the sidewalk meant leaving behind the protection he’d wrapped around her. Her pride shouted “yes” but her common sense warned her to stay, no matter how humble it would make her. The truck started moving and she jumped. A ragged breath hissed through her teeth. Forcing a slow breath down into her lungs, she lifted her chin, ordering her body to relax. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Last night was one of the very few nights she had not slept beneath a roof owned by a family member. Remaining with Trace meant choosing him over her family. There was nothing simple about the decision. “Can I call my family?” She blushed as she recognized that she hadn’t yet considered how worried they must be about her. “I had your family told that you were in police protective custody.” Trace’s voice was low and she appreciated the concession to her pride. Many men would have gloated over her agreeing that they were right. “They know about Karen, so it wasn’t hard to convince them that you needed to be relocated for your own good.” She scoffed at him. “You must not have made the call. My father wouldn’t take that easily.” “I suppose it depends on my definition of hard. I’ve had tougher sells.” Now she heard a hint of smugness in his voice. Glancing at him, she pushed her lips into a moue to avoid sharing his amusement. His lips rose into a grin. “Relax, Princess, I’m not making fun of your father.” He winked at her. “You want to be cross? Do it for the right reason.” “And that would be?” “The fact that I enjoyed convincing your father that you need protection because it means I get to keep you.” Mia laughed at him. She just couldn’t help it. The past two days had been anything but pleasant. Trace lifted a hand off the steering wheel. “I’m wounded. You don’t believe I’m sincere.” He offered her a few forced sniffles as he clasped his hand over his heart. “See what I mean? Princess suits you.”
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“You’re only putting up with me because Dack Tyden is your friend.” Which meant he was a good man. She might not agree with his methods but she couldn’t overlook the fact that he’d dropped everything to come to her aid when he never would have noticed her death. Besides, it would be prideful to think the man was enamored of her. It would also be very dangerous to believe she meant that much to him. Combine that idea with the heat flicking through her passage and she’d be spread out in his bed before tomorrow night. If she let herself believe such things… “The only thing any man ever has is his friends and family. The rest, everything we build, can evaporate in an hour.” He shot her a somber glance. “Your family can’t effectively deal with this treat. Dack knows that. He called me because I can help you.” And she believed him. That was a dangerous thing to do because she was drawn to him. It couldn’t be anything but the situation though. The intense sexual stirrings were nothing but her survival instinct kicking up in the face of attempted murder. She should be ashamed of herself for even thinking such thoughts about him. The man was trying to help his friend out, not hit on her. “That’s exactly what I plan to do, Princess. Keep you alive, to start with.” His voice told her that he expected her to argue with him again. Resignation held his expression tight as he returned his attention to the road. “You may call me Mia.”
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Chapter Four “Are you a police officer or something like that?” She should have thought to ask before. Trace’s eyes cut over to her quickly. His body tensed just the slightest amount as her question hung between them. “Nothing as civilian as that.” He turned the truck into a parking lot, his attention keen. He hadn’t relaxed yet, his large body still tense. “I realize that isn’t much of an answer.” He turned around a restaurant and headed towards a large black glass building sitting further out in the parking lot. There wasn’t a sign on it, only the street address required by the local fire department. But it was large and kept nicely. The sidewalks were all edges and flat, not a single uneven spot in the concrete. He pulled around it and into a parking space. “I’ll try and fill in a few blanks later. For the moment, Rowan is expecting us.” Trace pushed the door of the truck open before she thought of another way to get him to tell her what she wanted to know. As she unlatched her seat belt, she was surprised when her door was pulled open. He smirked at her as she slid out of the vehicle. “I told you I thought princess worked well.” The gentlemanly manners were oddly entrancing. Which was something Trace really didn’t need. The man was already affecting her too much. He shut the door with a push and hooked an arm around her back as he turned. The contact was unexpected and she jumped but he clasped her hip, his entire hand gripping around it. “Easy, Princess, I’m setting a scene here. We need to discover if you’re still being tailed.” “What has that to do with you embracing me?” He chuckled softly as he began moving her towards the back door of the building. “More than you might think. If anyone managed to tail you when I took you from your gym, I’m going to lose them between now and when we get back to my club. But in the meantime, in case there’s any question in their minds, I’m going to act like you’re my girlfriend. It’s a sure bet that whoever’s watching us today won’t have more than a photograph of you.” “Oh, so if I look like someone you know really well, they might be confused.” He paused in front of the door, his eyes roaming over the cars in the parking lot. “Exactly, so loosen up, at least until we make it back to my club.”
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“Club?” She gasped as he turned her and clasped her against his body. That fast, she was in his embrace. “I’ll have to show you around my personal playground. The second floor is a nightclub.” “Oh, that’s why it was cold—it’s underground.” It also explained why there were no windows and the way time had just frozen for her. Without daylight, it was hard to keep track of time. She shuddered, her body unable to remain pressing up against his. Heat was flooding her, even though she desperately tried to disguise it. Trace considered her, his hand smoothing over her lower back. “Only three sides of the building are underground. It was built into the side of a hill. I’ll show you how to adjust the heat.” “I wasn’t cold, I just noticed the way the floor was chilled.” She spoke too quickly, finally ducking her head to break the contact with his eyes. The hand on her hip flexed, the fingers gently squeezing before he released her. He frowned before reaching for the door to open it. A satisfied grin curved her lips as she walked into the entryway. A tingle of heat crossed her chest and moved down over her body as she considered the fact that she was affecting him too. It was a dangerous game of chemistry, one her mother would warn her to get away from before it flared into a fire she couldn’t control. But her entire life had been about control and planning and not placing herself anywhere that impulse might gain the upper hand. Maybe that was the reason she enjoyed dancing—there were no set moves. You had to let go of everything you’d practiced and just move in time with the music. In short, dive into impulse and let it rule. That conflicted with all the mentoring she’d been raised with. Sticking close to family helped you avoid temptation. It was human nature to be curious, so it was her family’s way to steer clear of situations that would flood her with too much stimuli. Like being around Trace or in contact with his skin. A shudder worked down her back and Trace angled his head to investigate. His hand was back on her hip, fingers spread wide and smoothing over to her lower back. Stepping away from him, she caught his eyes darkening as he watched her. Tension swirled through her belly as her clit began to throb. She’d never been so aware of it before. Arousal, she was discovering, was a cruel demon because it had decided to settle on a man she wasn’t even sure she liked. It was the most illogical thing she’d ever felt, the heat slipping down her passage unleashing dark ideas of taunting him enough to get her body pressed back against his. Would his kiss be rough or deep? Her gaze dropped to his mouth as she contemplated it. A soft sound passed through Trace’s lips and she jerked her attention back to his eyes. Her cheeks smarted as she watched hunger brighten his eyes. “You’re still in one piece.” Rowan appeared behind her with a smug smile on his lips. His dark hazel eyes surveyed Trace before he looked at her. “I’m disappointed.
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That back kick of yours had me hoping this mogul wouldn’t smooth-talk you like he does the rest of the girlies.” “With friends like you, I don’t need enemies.” Trace sounded annoyed and Mia watched the exchange with enjoyment. “Having me as a friend does make you a lucky man.” Rowan smirked at Trace. He kept the door open he’d entered through. It actually wasn’t a door. At least she wouldn’t have realized that the wall opened at all. The entire wall was floor-to-ceiling wood paneling—there was no handle facing the entryway that they’d stepped into. He gestured at the space beyond. “Welcome to the Throne Room.” They walked into a glass-enclosed rectangle, like the security checkpoint at an airport. It was silent but light flickered through it. Red, purple and green colored the area. She felt Trace move up behind her—she actually recognized his scent. A hand curved around her hip again as Rowan sealed the door, blocking out the daylight. The clear door in front of her opened and music filled the cubicle. A man was standing directly on the other side of the door, his eyes inspecting them as they crossed over onto the plush carpet. The club itself was mostly empty. A band was rehearsing on the stage as the lights swirled around the wooden dance floor. There were two mini stages out on the huge dance surface that two brightly costumed girls were dancing on. The lights bounced off their clothing as they kept beat with the music. One was a longhaired girl with curvy hips and plump breasts. The other was short-haired and thin with a nose ring sparkling as she worked her body. The lead guitarist played the last few chords and the drummer hit the cymbals. The music hadn’t been blaring but it had been good. With the band quiet, Mia looked around for Trace. A blush burned across her cheeks as she realized how absorbed she’d become without thinking about it. “They are good.” Trace was watching her, his attention focused completely on her. She blushed deeper and hotter under the intensity. He moved forward, draping an arm across her back again. His hand closed over her hip once more but she didn’t jump. She caught her breath slightly but her body wasn’t startled by the intimate touch. No, her body was accepting, even encouraging. Warm delight flowed over her skin. She wasn’t sure when her nipples beaded, only that the twin points poked against her bra making her hate the thing. The silk of her top felt deliciously soft against her skin because she suddenly felt as though she had double the number of nerve endings. Her flesh was sensitive and almost too warm for any clothing to be comfortable. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing her ear. “To appear like we know each other, you need to relax against me.” Easier said than done… Slipping her hand behind his back, she laid it against the hard muscle. He clicked his tongue. “Better, but we’re not high-school sweethearts.” 40
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“We aren’t lovers either,” she hissed in a low voice that wouldn’t cross the room. A warm hand cupped her chin as he used the arm draped across her back to curl her into a firm embrace. He slid his hand down over her bottom to keep her from lifting her lower body. She couldn’t escape being pressed completely against him, her belly feeling every inch of his hard erection. His hand moved from her chin to grasp the nape of her neck. She shuddered again, trying to think, but it was impossible with his body surrounding her. “Easy, Princess. It’s all for a good cause, remember?” His fingers massaged her neck gently as he placed a soft kiss against her temple. “Put your hands on me. Play the part.” Slipping her hand up to his chest sent another quiver through her. Thinking about how muscular he was didn’t compare with feeling it. Her fingers transmitted delight straight into her bloodstream. “That’s it.” She stopped with her hands resting on his chest. He was pressing her closer to him because her body wanted to spring away out of sheer nervousness. He kissed her cheek this time, high up near her hairline. “The dancing girls talk. They’re watching us right now, so relax.” “I’m trying,” she snapped at him, angry at her own inexperience. Looking like his lover just wasn’t something she knew how to fake. His eyes studied her, seeing more than she wanted him to. She ducked her head but a warm hand cupped her chin, preventing her from escaping his dark gaze. He muttered something in Russian. The sound of his voice was deep and dark with tantalizing promise. She shuddered as hunger blazed a trail down her spine. Time froze as she felt his heart beat through her fingertips. Her own was hammering away, making her breathing quick. Each breath drew in the scent of his skin and her nipples tightened as it touched some dark corner of her brain. Arousal snaked through her, every inch of her skin warming up. His eyes narrowed a second before he bent his head to kiss her. Her body bucked but he held her steady as his mouth teased hers. With firm insistence, he pushed her lips apart to deepen the kiss. His lips commanded hers, moving slowly as his arms held her steady. Her breath froze as heat licked over her. Pleasure tightened almost unbearably throughout her belly as need filled her passage. Her hands refused to remain still, her fingers sliding across the wide expanse of his chest. The hard muscle beneath his shirt was warm and beckoning. Her body stopped straining away from his. Now she melted against his frame, eager for contact, her lips learning the motion from his, returning his kiss as sweet pleasure flowed through their joined flesh. “Hey, Trace!” His mouth lifted away from hers, his breathing harsh. Their eyes locked for a moment and she shivered as she watched him fight off the urge to ignore everything
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but her. His arms opened but he kept one draped across her back like he knew her body well. “Keep up the show, Princess, the life hanging in the balance is yours.” The two dancing girls hopped down, their high heels clicking on the wooden floor. They both grabbed water bottles from a nearby chair before moving across the floor towards Rowan. The short-haired one wiggled up until she was pressing against his chest. Confidence radiated from her face as she teased his lips with a brief kiss before peeking around him to stare at Mia. “Who’s the new arm candy, Trace?” Rowan patted her bottom with a firm hand. “Trace never kisses and tells.” She stared at Mia, her hands confidently stroking Rowan’s neck. She pressed against him from breast to thighs, a slow wiggle moving her body. The band started up again as he pushed her gently forward. “Go on, Sheila, I love to watch you move.” He swatted her bottom as he stepped away from her. “Hmm, I’ll have to remember that.” The girl winked at Rowan before moving back to her dancing podium. Trace waited until the girl was climbing back up onto her stage before releasing Mia completely. “Mission accomplished.” Rowan jerked his head at the back of the room. “Let’s do it before they finish up their set. Five minutes.” Trace gripped her hand, pulling her after Rowan as the man took off at a fast pace. There were tables fanning out from the dance floor, but it seemed set up for good viewing of the girls. A half wall ran on the far side of the club with arches filling in the top portion of the wall. Beyond it were sofas and soft blue lighting. The two doorways that led to it both had “private” signs posted over them. Trace led her towards one and right into the area on the other side. The music faded into the background as they walked through the plushly furnished area. There wasn’t a chair in sight. Only sofas and plush divans. Her lips twitched as she recognized a setting for seduction. How many kisses had been exchanged here in the blue light? A little tingle of sensation rippled across her mouth as she considered the area sporting couples who were forging that first bond of trust with each other. A slim woman was sipping a drink in one corner. She left the glass on a small end table as she moved over to them. As she got closer, her Asian features became noticeable. Rowan looked at Trace, waiting for his reaction. “Good.” Trace studied the woman and nodded. “Perfect.” Rowan shrugged. He angled his head at Mia and she caught a quick wink. “This is Kim. She’s going to be you, so go in back and swap clothes with her.”
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The girl was already turning and moving towards a door set into the back of the room. Trace gave her a hard look when she hesitated, his eyebrows lowering until a furrow appeared between them. “All right.” She said it grudgingly as she hurried after Kim. The girl held the door open until Mia grasped it. “Men like them enjoy their secrets a little too much.” Kim’s voice was smooth and sultry. She fluttered her eyelashes as she crooked a single finger. “This way. There is plenty to choose from. Formal, sloppy or sexy. Anything you might like.” She swept Mia from head to toe, her lips twitching with amusement as she muttered the word “sexy”. Kim didn’t seem to think Mia knew a thing about dressing like a woman who would come to this club after the sun set. She was tempted to prove the other woman wrong. Kim led her into an entire office that was a floor-to-ceiling closet. Racks even ran down the middle of the space. There were rows of shoes, bins of stockings, hair clips and even wigs. An entire selection of makeup sat on a vanity with lighted mirrors. A curling iron and hair dryer sat nearby. It reminded her of a movie dressing room, with all its different looks. Miniskirts at one end of a rack and then skirts arranged by length all the way down to ankle-length ones. Pants in silk on one end and ripped and weathered denim on the other side. It was a makeover heaven. Or a spy’s playground. There was everything to change your appearance in the room. Even a padded belly to mimic pregnancy. “You have a cute bottom. This would look hot on you. Trace likes his girls with legs.” Kim flashed a black lace miniskirt at her. The playful smugness on her face rubbed at Mia’s temper. “Black is so common in clubs, I avoid it because what’s the point in getting dressed up if I’m not going to show up in the dim light?” Mia enjoyed the confidence that rang through her tone. At least she wasn’t completely ignorant. Reaching up, Mia pulled a blue, ruffled skirt that was shorter than the black one off the rack. She turned to face the full-length mirror and held it up against her. Kim laughed again, low and sultry. “Well now, you’re really not what Rowan and Trace think you are.” There was a shifting of hangers as Kim replaced the black skirt. “How very interesting. Want to play a little with their male egos?” Kim flashed her a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She held up a dress that was a whisper of silk chiffon. It was purple tiger striped with square gold sequins scattered over it. It was muted in color with a skirt that would fall to the top of her knees in front and slightly longer in the back. The hemline was a mass of points, as though constructed of handkerchiefs. What made it daring was how delicate the chiffon
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was. It would lie over her skin, exposing every curve she had, fluttering and shimmering as she moved. The dress was pure temptation. The last two days of tension had her longing for a night of abandon. But Trace wasn’t a man to tease. At least not lightly. Mia chewed on her lower lip, imagining his eyes on her bottom as she moved in the sheer silk. He’d want her. She felt certain of it. In fact, she let her mind enjoy the idea of his eyes darkening with hunger. Her clit throbbed and her nipples beaded. Heat flushed over her skin and she licked her lower lip. The folds of her sex felt too tightly compressed as the idea of tempting Trace ignited a need inside her. “But you are going to be walking, so maybe this dress isn’t such a good idea. Besides it isn’t Rowan you’re wanting to wear such a little bit of nothing for.” Kim shot her a wicked look around the purple chiffon. “Trust me, you want a bed to go along with those thoughts. The heat of the moment might be erotic, but satin sheets are so much nicer against your back than a concrete wall.” Kim looked at the dress. “Still this suits you.” She replaced it among the row of dresses. “But not for today.” She pulled a pair of blue jeans down, her face filling with disappointment. “Practicality is so boring.” She held the jeans out, her eyes flickering with amusement again. “You’ll just have to wait for a better time to taunt Trace into taking you.” Mia’s eyes widened at the blunt comment. Kim laughed as she offered her a cotton shirt. “What’s wrong, dear? I assure you I know what you’re thinking.” Releasing the shirt, she trailed her fingers through the rack of clothing. “We’re both women, about to spend time with two gorgeous hunks. Sex should be on our minds. Unless I’m more to your liking? If that’s the case, maybe we should practice a little with each other and then try to snag Trace and Rowan in a ménage a quad.” “No, I like men. Only men.” Kim smirked at her. “I’d love to get both of them in bed with me at the same time. You’ll have to share your secret if you manage it.” She held up her hands. “Let’s go, they’ll come looking for us in two minutes.” Turning her back on Kim, Mia shimmied out of her clothing. She listened to the soft sounds of clothing being put on as she stepped into the jeans. They were a little big but not too much. The shirt was a sack on her, hanging like that flannel night gown would. She looked behind her and Kim was buttoning up her silk blouse. Kim looked at her feet. “You would have tiny feet. I’ll never get into those.” She went over to the shoe racks, searching for something similar to wear. A pair of running shoes came skidding under the rack. “You’ve got a walk ahead of you. Those dress shoes will kill you.” Stupid or not, Mia wasn’t ready to part with the last thing that belonged to her. The shoes her uncle had made for her were the only thing she had to connect with her life. She stepped out of them and put on the running shoes but picked her shoes up when 44
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she was finished tying the shoe laces. Looking around she found a rack of bags and purses. Selecting a small backpack/purse combination, she put her shoes into it. Kim was in front of the makeup station, touching up her mascara. The perfect coat of makeup applied to Kim’s face made Mia feel drab in comparison. The white sack top was the cherry on top of the melting sundae. Along with the oversized jeans, she looked like a preteen whose parents were still picking out her clothing with “growing room” allowed. She felt very unattractive. She frowned as she considered her thoughts. Being upset over her lack of attractiveness was really dangerous. It meant that she was interested in looking good for Trace. Her attention remained on the makeup station as she battled the excitement moving across her skin. “Let’s roll, ladies.” Rowan stuck his head in the doorway, his voice full of command. He swept her with his eyes before nodding. Stepping out into the hallway, Mia found Trace leaning against the wall. There were small creases around his eyes, like something was straining his temper. His eyes were dark and stormy too. He straightened up the moment she appeared, his attention centered on her. But Kim pushed her way past, her hips swaying as she approached Trace. “Hello, lover. I’m all ready.” A jolt of jealousy stabbed through Mia. She looked at the floor as she struggled with the unexpected emotion. She was being an idiot. Of course Trace had lovers. Her eyes rose and stroked over his wide-shouldered frame. Lots of lovers. He was sin packaged perfectly for female consumption. Kim slipped her hands up and over his chest, exactly where she’d had her own hands twenty minutes ago. Only Kim was a lot more practiced in the art of touching a man. She was stroking Trace, appreciation evident in her expression. Her hips twitched from side to side as her hands slowly fanned out in arches across his chest. She purred softly under her breath as she stretched up, bringing her lips closer to his own in a tempting display that looked so seductive Mia wanted to hiss at her. But that dumped her back into thinking about how dangerous it was for her to be thinking about Trace at all. It was a minefield full of things that would explode in her face if she went walking across it. Trace certainly had lovers but he wasn’t the sort of man who settled down with a girl like her. She lacked the experience to play bedroom games on his level. It wasn’t that she regretted still being a virgin, but she knew that there were vast differences between the kind of woman Trace would take to his bed and her. That was something she’d learned from Cambria—everyone had a place in the world. But birds of a feather did flock together. Trace wouldn’t be looking at a virgin as nighttime company. Just as she couldn’t see him sitting at her father’s table. “Save it for the audience, Kim.”
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Kim snorted but lifted her hands away from Trace. He brushed past her and she shot a heat-filled glare at Mia. Trace blocked out the disgruntled woman’s face as he moved in front of her. “Rowan is going to take you for a long walk. I trust him with my life, Princess.” There was a hint of distaste in his eyes that stunned her because it looked so sincere. “I’ll connect up with you tonight.” A solid promise rang through his words. She really shouldn’t have taken solace in it but being separated drove home how alone she was. Going home really wasn’t an option. Lifting her chin, she forced her face into a pleasant expression. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes darkened as he nodded. “I know you will.” “How touching.” Kim laughed at them. “You two need to get a room.” “He’s not my boyfriend,” Mia snapped at the other woman before thinking about how harsh her words sounded. Kim fluttered her heavily mascared eyelashes at her. “Of course he isn’t, little virgin. Yet.” Her face flamed but Mia refused to lower her eyes. She was not ashamed and Kim wasn’t the first mean-spirited girl she’d ever run into. Rowan shook his head as he gave Kim a light push towards the door. “Kim, you’ve turned into a bitch since the last time we worked together.” The Asian woman lost her poise briefly and it almost struck Mia as a transformation. Her face looked old for a moment, as though she felt ancient with the weight of a century sitting on her shoulders. She considered Rowan with sad eyes. “Becoming jaded kept me alive. On a man it’s considered attractive.” Her eyes flickered over Mia as a small smile lifted her lips. “There was a time when I used to blush.” She looked at Mia with hungry eyes as a delicate shiver shook her body. “It seems such a long time ago. Do yourself a favor, don’t ever become me.” Kim turned and left but her body didn’t sway in the same polished manner. Instead she disappeared into the outer room, walking with silent pride. Trace made a low sound under his breath, regaining her attention. He studied her from hooded eyes before taking a stiff breath. “I’m going to put her on a plane. Hopefully, if anyone’s watching, they’ll take the bait.” It was a lot of effort for her. Mia was silent for a moment just absorbing how much trouble she was putting other people to without ever intending to do so. Trace winked at her before pushing away from the wall, his body moving with smooth motions. Her gaze followed him because the way he moved fascinated her. It was a symphony of strength and control. A shiver traveled down her spine but she was growing accustomed to the way her body responded to looking at his.
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“I’ll find you, Princess.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes glittering. “That’s a promise. You can trust Rowan.” Trace stepped through the doorway. He stood for a long moment just letting emotion tear through him like shrapnel. It amazed him. The level of tension parting company with Mia was producing. He couldn’t recall a single other woman that he’d actually missed who wasn’t intimate with him. He had male friends. The sort that he’d rearrange his entire life for when they called, like he was doing for Dack right now. Rowan made that list along with a few others who only had to ask for his help. His emotions rose for them, they were his comrades and only family. It didn’t much matter what they asked, only that they had called on him. It wasn’t just about keeping Mia alive, it was a method of keeping men like Raul Ramos from succeeding in their plans. One hit wouldn’t topple any dark plan, but intervening placed Trace and Dack in a position to gather information. Once Black Watch lost Mia, they’d most likely find another outlet for their anger. It was a harsh truth that he wasn’t really saving a life. What he was doing was redirecting where the hit would land. Black Watch, and more specifically Ramos, weren’t going to take Dack blowing the whistle on them. They would rise up from the slimy corners they inhabited to try to cover their tracks. They wanted to send a warning to Dack, a warning to keep his mouth shut or he’d pay in blood. He frowned as Kim reappeared. She was something he was used to. One of the rare females who lived amidst his shadowy life. She was jaded but that was necessary for not only her survival but his as well. He suddenly noticed how different Mia was. The contrast should have slapped some sense into him. It didn’t. Heat was still swirling around his head, clouding his judgment. The smart thing to do would be to hand her off to Rowan or maybe Bruce. He chuckled as he considered Bruce Hoffman coming face-to-face with Mia. It wouldn’t be dull, that was for sure. But she was staying with him. That idea had roots twisted so deep into his mind he couldn’t pull them free. A soft female sigh broke through his musings as he realized that Kim was watching him. “It had to happen someday, Trace. Even men like you aren’t immune to a spring flower.” “That doesn’t mean I’m going to linger in the garden.” Kim laughed at his harsh tone. A seductive, low sound that came from full lips. Her eyes closed halfway, transforming her into a feline. He’d seen her look like that before. It was one of the things that made her such a successful operative. Kim had the art of distraction mastered. She could worm information out of the tightest set of male lips just by being a sex kitten. Men overlooked her, letting information slide through their lips because they assumed that she was nothing but a cunt. It was a mistake that had often given Kim’s team the advantage.
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Heat prickled down the back of his neck as he realized just how knowledgeable she was when it came to men. Kim shook her head, her face returning to the solemn expression she’d given Mia. Loneliness shown through her eyes. “Don’t walk away too fast. You never know when you’ll get the chance to touch life again.” She moved off towards the doorway that led to the main club. Another prickle crossed his neck as he watched the way she tightened her control. She transformed into the woman he’d worked with. A study of seduction and control that had been crafted to be an effective tool. Buried down inside her was a woman who had once been like Mia. Trace growled as he went to catch up with Kim. Well, Kim could hint all she liked about what she thought he felt for Mia. The man who could have done something about those emotions wasn’t just buried inside him, he was stone-cold dead. Draping an arm around Kim, he felt her warm body melt smoothly against his. He needed to enjoy having a woman in his arms, one who would eradicate the odd emotional attachment. Instead he noticed that Kim didn’t smell like Mia. He was slightly shaken by the realization, but Kim didn’t let it impact on the objective. She turned, slipping her hands up to his shoulder. Subtle pressure on the back of his neck bought his face low enough for her to press a kiss against his lips. “You’re going to have to do better than that.” Kim kept her voice low but there was no mistaking the chastisement in her tone. A zip of fear actually shook him because he realized that Kim’s kiss left him cold. Heat didn’t stroke over his cock, not even a light grazing because a sexy woman was pressing against him. Kim stared up into his eyes as she trailed a fingertip over his lips. There was a wealth of knowledge in her eyes that made his neck tight. He knew her body and the expert way that she performed in bed. His cock should have been hard. Instead he felt another shiver graze his neck. It had been a decade since he’d been afraid of anything. Twenty years ago he’d been sweet on a big doe-eyed girl. That was long before he made his first kill. The part of him that could even recall what it was like to be unguarded enough to love was lost in the swirling black mist that was his service record. His heart had iced over just like most of his comrades but today it felt as though the sun had somehow managed to shine on it. That drove a bolt of apprehension through him. He needed his feelings right where they were—encased in ice. His cock needed to harden because Kim was available and he could make her willing to ease his sexual hunger. Instead, all he thought about was Mia’s kiss. Touching his mouth to hers and finding out how sweet her lips were beneath his own. His cock stirred at the memory, swelling as he recalled the way she’d stroked him. Her delicate fingers spreading out over his chest, discovering what he felt like. It had been the most delicious form of torture he’d ever encountered, each second an eternity as he waited for her to touch him some more. His cock was hard and needy now, pulsing with hunger for something that he knew better than to reach for. But he wanted it…her. His princess wasn’t immune to his touch, he’d seen the fire dancing in her eyes. 48
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Yeah, that scared him.
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Chapter Five “This way.” Rowan took her along a hallway, around a corner and down another length of nondescript hallway. Even the carpet was beige and sedate. Rowan wasn’t much on conversation. Mia frowned as she stared at his broad back. Yes, he was a whole lot like Trace in that respect. She could see the concentration on his face but he kept his lips sealed. As though these men didn’t trust the world around them. Considering the club was Rowan’s, that was sad. It was one thing to be guarded when you were amongst strangers, but in your own business? Sad… Not that her current situation was much better. She tried to ignore the growing realism. There were too many people involved for it to be a case of one twisted psycho intent on being her captor. The burned-out rubble of Cambria’s condominium complex was a sight that was hard to dismiss. But she still tried to push it all aside. She needed to get wherever she was going before self-pity took hold of her. Even then, she had no idea what she was going to do. Her entire life had been reduced to a pair of hand-made shoes. She had nothing else to prove that she was who she was or that she’d earned anything. Just her shoes and those had been a gift. “Are you claustrophobic?” Rowan reached down and searched along the floorboards with his fingers. He found whatever he was looking for and pulled a trapdoor up that she hadn’t seen until he opened it. A set of metal steps led down into darkness. Chilled air hit her face, but it wasn’t as stale as she would expect from a basement. “If I were, now would be a good time to forget that I was.” Rowan chuckled at her. “That’s the way to look at it.” He inclined his head at the dark steps. “I’ll explain on the way but I don’t want this open any longer than necessary. Very few people know it’s here.” And he wanted her to go first. Pulling in a deep breath, she moved to the opening in the floor. Her heart accelerated as she put her foot down into the unknown. The chill seemed to work up her leg like she was immersing it in frigid water. Her chest tightened up as she began descending deeper into the poorly lit area. But it wasn’t pitch black. She focused on that as her eyes adjusted from the well-lit corridor above and she was able to slowly see more details. It wasn’t unlit at the bottom of the stairs, just dimly illuminated compared to Rowan’s club. It was still creepy.
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Mia stepped onto the floor and kept one hand clutched around her bag as she looked around. Concrete walls looked gray in the thin light. Pipes as thick as her leg were attached to the sides of the tunnel. They ran down the length of the cement walls, disappearing into the distance where her eyes couldn’t make anything out. There was a musty smell of standing water. Not actually mildew but a long way from fresh. The tunnel was about seven feet high with light bulbs set into the ceiling every ten feet. The glass was surrounded by metal protection cages. Some of them were covered in thick dust and an odd spider web or two. The trapdoor closed with an eerie sound that echoed down the corridor. Her heart seized for a second as she looked up to see what side Rowan was on. The metal stairs groaned as he descended to the floor. He looked cramped in the confined area. Even in the dim light she could see the distaste on his face. He covered it quickly when he caught her watching him. “These tunnels connect the power and land phone lines throughout the city.” He rapped one of the thick pipes and the sound traveled down the tunnel. “As far as the more modern portions of the city go. You might have seen work crews out using the manhole covers to access these.” She had. Mia looked around again as a memory of being stuck in gridlocked traffic surfaced. Work crews would block off a lane of traffic, compressing the flow of commuters away from the dull bronze manhole covers. You often saw large ventilation tubes sitting in one open manhole and men working at the next one. “As long as we keep an ear out and avoid any crew working on the line, we can walk anywhere.” “Without anyone knowing where we’re headed.” Rowan stepped forward but nodded. “That’s the idea. Trace will take Kim all around town, show her off as you and put her on a plane later this afternoon.” Mia started walking, following Rowan down the tunnel. Their steps echoed slightly, the sound bouncing off the close confines. He hunched over slightly, because his head almost brushed the ceiling. He had to duck around each light bulb. He stopped and pulled something from the wall that had been resting on one of the pipes. “Here, in case the power goes out.” He handed her a small flashlight, keeping one for himself. A shiver crossed her back as she recognized another little detail that proved how drastically different a life Rowan and Trace lived compared to hers. They were always looking for ways to slip under the radar of anyone who might be watching. Personally, she had never once even imagined going down a manhole, much less building a trap-door into the floor of her home so that she could disappear into the maze of tunnels at a moment’s notice. It took living on the edge to a very sharp edge, reminding her of news stories from war-torn countries. That sort of lifestyle had always seemed so far away from her safe, American neighborhood. Closing her hands around the chilled metal casing of the flashlight, she recognized how much she had taken for granted, actually squandering her carefree
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days getting upset over things that didn’t really matter. Not when you considered that people were struggling just to remain alive. What was a traffic ticket compared to having to plan escape routes when murders showed up in your office? “Let me know if I start moving too fast.” The dim light flickered off his eyes as he turned to look at her. “I’m going to take point and make sure we don’t run into company. There’s always a crew working somewhere.” And she wasn’t capable of looking out for herself. She heard that loud and clear. She shot Rowan a solid look. “I’m in good condition.” “If you weren’t, you’d be dead.” The finality of that statement sobered her. She fell into step, keeping up with his longer legs, determination making it easy. His words helped her remain positive because he was right. She’d prevented her own murder. Maybe she had no idea what to do after that moment but she wasn’t helpless. Even if it was getting harder to remember that with every step. Following blindly wounded her pride but she kept up. She would deal with the humbling moments because they would lead her towards surviving.
***** The bag on her shoulder gave her piece of mind as the hours began to pass. Noise from the streets above made its way to her ears—slightly distorted horns and engine noise that ricocheted down the cement tunnels. They passed intersections, where the thick pipes turned around the rough corners. Hundreds of smaller pipes were connected to the larger ones and these ran straight up into the city above them. Inside them were wires that allowed electricity to flow. Street names were even stamped into the cement at each intersection. They passed major streets as they continued walking. Questions chewed at her brain but she kept her mouth shut and her feet moving. The bag finally began to cut into her shoulder and she let it slide down her arm so that she could shift it to the other shoulder. Rowan noticed the movement, his head jerking quickly around. Since she’d been staring at his wide back for so long, she hadn’t thought he was all that aware of her. “What’s in the bag?” “Just my shoes.” He looked puzzled for a moment. “You didn’t strike me as the sort of girl who gets attached to designer labels enough to carry a pair of shoes ten miles.” He turned and began moving again. But he slanted a look at her, waiting for an answer. “They were made by my uncle for me.” Rowan clicked his tongue. “Really? Most Americans don’t value a cobbler.” His reference to Americans reminded her of what Trace had told her. “Were you born in the Soviet Union as well?” 52
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Her teeth went into her lower lip as she realized that she’d broken down and asked a question. A soft chuckle came from Rowan. “You’ve got steel in your spine. I expected you to start in with questions five minutes after we began walking.” “You say that like I don’t have a reason to ask for a little enlightenment.” There was no way she was going to lower her head in the face of his humor. Rowan shrugged as he looked forward for a long moment, their steps filling in the silence once again. “Yes, I was born in the former Soviet Union.” His voice was grave, low and almost secretive. “Trace has been a good friend of mine for a long time.” “He’s been kind to put up with me.” A lifetime of strict formal manners was responsible for her words. But there was a hint of something else too. A feeling of security that she just couldn’t dismiss. Somehow she had begun to trust Trace, or at least be thankful for his presence. Somewhere between him drugging her and the moment he’d arranged her hair so that it wouldn’t be pulled while she was so weak, she’d gained an appreciation of the time he was investing in her problem. Or his friend’s problem actually. But that just made him more respectable in her mind. You could learn a lot about a person’s true character by watching how they treated their friends. Family was something most people tried to respect but friends were a test of your own selfishness. Did you show up when it was important to them or just when you thought there was something entertaining for you? That was the true test of friendship. “Of course, I would have been mad waking up in a stranger’s guest room and told him to stop using my name too.” Mia sucked in her breath as Rowan turned a cocky grin at her. “I didn’t understand what was happening.” Keeping her tone gentle wasn’t working so well. Her temper was rising, flaring up as she considered the tatters her life was in. Oh, she knew it wasn’t Trace’s or Rowan’s fault but she was still mad as a wet cat. Rowan’s smirk grew bigger as he studied her, his eyes watching her intently. Almost like he was conducting an experiment. She hissed at him. “Stop playing with me.” He was casting barbed comments at her, just to see what generated a response. “I’m not a lab animal.” His face lost its amused expression. “Knowing what to expect from you isn’t a joke. I applaud your self-control. I expected you to badger me with questions two hours ago. You outlasted me on patience. That doesn’t happen very often.” His dark eyebrows lowered. “Knowing how you respond can be important if the situation gets sticky.” “You mean you want to know if I’ll turn into a shrieking, hysterical mess.” His eyes narrowed. “Precisely.” A second later, she was staring at his back again, only the sounds of their steps filling the gap between them as the walk continued. Rowan moved faster now, like he’d gotten what he wanted and was now ready to complete his current task.
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That idea dumped a bucketful of despair over her. There was just no way to escape the fact that she was a chore. It ate away at her resolve to remain poised and confident because all she could see was what she didn’t have. Family, friends and all of the frustration that went along with those things suddenly seemed like a joy instead of a hassle. The only thing you have is your friends and family…the rest can vaporize in a second… Trace’s words floated through her memory. Their truth rang loud enough to deafen her. Her hand rose to her shoulder and the handle of the bag that held her shoes. Gripping it, she funneled her energy into keeping up with her escort. Her heart was beating beneath her breast and that was the important thing. She’d worry about getting back to her life later. But she would have to remain alive in order to do that. Chuck and his black gloves haunted her as another hour of walking dropped behind them.
***** “We’re here.” She jumped because Rowan’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. Another metal staircase stood in front of him. It was one of hundreds that they had passed. She blinked and looked it over, searching for any sort of identifying marks on it. “Don’t worry, it’s the right one.” Reaching the top of the stairs, Rowan fitted a key into a hole that she couldn’t see from her spot at the bottom of the stairs. There was a faint grinding noise as he turned the key and a click as the lock released. But he didn’t push the trapdoor up. Instead a small square of metal swung down revealing an electronic, state of the art keypad. He winked at her. “Trace is picky about who he lets into his place.” “I can see that.” Rowan looked back up, his fingers pressing in numbers as the keypad chirped at him. It took longer than a cash withdrawal at an ATM. Rowan’s fingers returned to the keypad several times before it flashed at him and he placed a flat hand against the ceiling. He pushed and it rose, light flooding down to blind her. Rowan flattened a hand on the floor above him and disappeared into whatever was above them. His face appeared in the opening a moment later. “Let’s go.” Gripping the hand rails, she climbed the steep stairs that were really more of a ladder. A hand cupped each of her biceps when she reached the top and lifted her up like a child. She touched down a few feet from the trap-door as she heard it snap shut. Her mouth went dry as she looked at the two men in the space with her and Rowan. Neither of them had any hair to speak of, it was cut ultrashort. That one detail made her apprehensive because she knew exactly why they wore their hair that way.
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So it couldn’t be gripped during a fight. They both studied her, memorizing her face while Rowan replaced the trapdoor. He turned and pointed to the silent men. “Ivens and Bulosan.” Rowan offered her a serious look. “You can trust them. They run security for the Play Yard. They will be working to keep you breathing.” Neither man said anything as Rowan began walking down the hallway. With nothing better to do, Mia followed, her mouth reminding her that they’d been walking for hours and some water would be nice. The climbed another set of stairs and the décor became somewhat familiar. The tone of the walls looked like it might be the same as the hallway outside her room. Rowan stopped in front of a set of double doors. He pulled one side open and the persimmon color scheme came into view. But her throat tightened up as she looked at the room like a cell. She swallowed, trying to suppress the distaste but it was hard. “Ivens and Bulosan are going to take lead on you for a while.” Rowan held the door open, the meaning clear. Tension drew her muscles tight as she resisted the urge to just run. But there wasn’t any freedom waiting for her, only Chuck’s boss. She forced her feet to cross over the threshold and reenter her temporary residence. “Buck up, Princess, Trace will be back.” “I don’t miss him.” Mia spun around, flinging a hot glare at him. He laughed at the look on her face. He clicked his tongue at her temper before letting the door shut. It closed with a snap that sounded like thunder. Her mood dropped to freezing level as she stared at the smooth paneling. “Oh, get a grip, Mia.” Turning around, she marched to the bathroom. Dropping her bag on the counter, she took care of her body’s more pressing needs before returning to frown at her reflection. She hadn’t looked so drab since grade school. She turned her head, staring across the lavish bathroom, trying to decide what was different. The large mirrors that ran across the far side of it were all crystal clear but one of them was sitting slightly away from the one next to it. “Of course, nothing is what it seems in this place.” Approaching it, she tried to look into the space behind it. “And now I’m talking to myself too.” Looking down, she noticed the almost invisible tracks set into the tile floor. Her other uncle on her mother’s side would have admired the job. It was flawless. The tile cut precisely to allow a set of tiny rollers to be set into it. So nicely was it fitted together, she had failed to notice that the mirrors were closet doors. Hooking a finger into the opening of the mirror, she gave one side a push. It moved back silently to reveal a closet. Soft yellow lighting turned on as the door was moved. The track the wheel sat in was exposed now but it was spotlessly clean. Not even one hair in sight. It wasn’t that
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she wanted to find filth in the room, but Chuck’s warning about DNA sprang to mind as she noticed how sterile everything was. A gasp escaped her lips when she raised her eyes to what lay beyond the doors. Her eyes widened as she looked at the neatly hung garments waiting for her. They were hers. Her dancing clothes from the small rental unit hidden away from her family’s knowledge. Her face heated up as she looked at the skirts and fuck-me heels all arranged perfectly. A single sheet of paper was lying over the shoe rack, handwriting on it. Her hand shook as she reached for it. ATM cards leave an electronic trail, Princess. If you want to hide something, use cash and an alias. But I must say, your secrets intrigue me. A naughty smile curved her lips before she thought to stop it. She realized that she was enjoying snaring Trace’s attention. It was a dangerous thing to toy with him. She didn’t know much about him except that he was a man. Not the sort of youths she’d run into while playing in her fuck-me pumps. Trace was neither inexperienced nor controllable. At least not by her. Maybe Kim could play naughty games of kiss and promise with him, but Mia wouldn’t be so bold. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him forcing her. Really it was something quite different that sent a curl of tension through her belly. She simply knew that he could seduce her. Satin sheets feel so much better against your back… Kim’s words teased her. Fingering one of her garter belts, she felt the heat from her cheeks slide down to her chest into her nipples. Trace turned her on. Right, wrong or even twisted by the situation didn’t seem to change the way her body responded to his. Her nipples drew into hard buttons as she stroked a miniskirt. The heat slid lower until her clit was pulsing gently between the folds of her sex. She felt empty, her sheath hungry for a taste of that one thing she’d never yielded. A hard shudder racked her body as an image of Trace pressing her down on her back flashed through her mind, the way his body felt when he was holding her against him. Withdrawing her hand, she turned her back on the clothing. She was playing with fire. Toying with the flames by laying out fuel for the hungry blaze. If she wasn’t careful it would consume her and leave a trail of soot behind. She’d never be able to sit through another family dinner with some hand-picked, approved boy again. But maybe that wasn’t something to lament. On the other side of the closet there were a handful of outfits with tags hanging from them. Her lips pressed tightly together as she stared at them. It was humbling to look at something she needed but could not provide for herself. All of her money was in an account that she couldn’t access without marking a path straight to her location. There wasn’t much use in walking across town and putting Kim to the trouble of pretending to be her if she was going to do something like go shopping. Reaching for one of the outfits, she smiled as it slid over her palm. It was a soft sage green set, with 56
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comfortable sweatpants and a wrap-over-design top. Turning the tag over, she recognized the store as one of her favorites. She’d shopped there just last week. A pair of jeans was behind the green outfit, the style and size the same as ones hanging in her room at home. With a muttered phrase she felt a chill drift over her again. The outfit was no coincidence. Trace had simply tapped into her account and traced her shopping habits. That lack of regard for her privacy should have turned her cold. It didn’t. The knowledge fed her growing fascination with his ability to survive amidst circumstances she wasn’t sure where to begin dealing with. But it was disheartening as well, because she was attracted to a man who didn’t live in the same world she did. Once she returned to her life, Trace would melt away into his world of trapdoors and untraceable phone lines. He excited the hell out of her. It should have bothered her but instead she leaned her head back, closing her eyes to savor the heat licking over her skin. She remembered his scent, warm and male. Her nipples drew taut, begging for a touch from his confident hands. A shudder shook her as she lowered her chin. With a sigh she turned around, exiting the closet. After flipping the shower on, she tugged her clothes off as steam began to rise from the water. Her nipples were still hard little berries as she surveyed her reflection. Stroking a hand over the swell of one breast, she watched gooseflesh spread down her body. Sensation prickled along her skin, raising the heat inside her passage. Need, hot and heavy, assaulted her. She was fascinated by it, mesmerized by the intensity. She wanted to fuck. Actually craved hard penetration. Trailing her fingers down and across her belly, she teased her clit. Pleasure spiked up into her pussy, drawing a tiny gasp from her lips. Pushing her fingertip between the folds of skin covering her clit, she shivered as she connected with the bundle of nerve endings. Rubbing it, her heart accelerated as her eyes slid shut. Sweet pleasure ran up from her finger to her belly as she rubbed it in a steady motion, never gaining speed. Release was better when she controlled the impulse to rush towards orgasm. Her skin became warm and then hot as her breathing turned ragged. She felt the need to come twisting tighter and tighter but kept her finger moving at the same speed. Pleasure broke over her like a wave, soft and drawn out, the delight rushing along her entire length before rolling back into her passage. Lifting her eyelids, she looked at her nude body. Regret bit into her because she wasn’t satisfied. With a frown she recognized how empty she felt, how lonely her orgasm had been. Disappointing… She stepped beneath the cool water. It washed down her body, cooling the hunger and washing the sweet fluid away from her sex. But arousal lingered, deep in her belly, gnawing at her as she drew the soap over her skin to mask the scent of her rising heat. She suddenly understood why good daughters had defied their fathers in times past to marry without the blessings of their families. She smiled as she understood how Cambria could be swept off her feet so quickly after meeting Dack Tyden. There was no 57
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logic to the hunger, only need. It didn’t wait for permission or care if you wanted it. Somewhere in the moments that she’d spent with Trace, her body had decided it wanted him. There wasn’t any choice. Only hard, hot passion. It was a pain in the ass, that was for sure. She walked back out into the room wearing the sage green outfit and found a tray waiting for her. Sitting down, she stared at it realizing that she’d lost track of time. She wasn’t even sure what day it was. A newspaper was sitting next to the food and she reached for it eagerly. She stared at the day…Wednesday. Horror held her frozen for a long moment as she tried to absorb that three days had passed. The silence in the room bothered her, irritating her senses because she wasn’t used to being alone. Eating didn’t interest her, at least eating alone didn’t. But that left her with longing for Trace’s company. She frowned as she stared at the silver domes covering her meal. A hot spear of jealousy went through her as she considered Kim sitting with him. Her eyes widened as the envy swept through her. There was too much emotion churning inside her to remain still. Standing up, she walked around the room, pausing to look at the fireplace. Blue-edged flames continued to lick at the glass logs, heat gently grazing across her legs. Looking at the double doors, she frowned. They weren’t locked, she felt it in her gut. The walls pressed in on her too much and she snorted, fed up with waiting. Returning to the bathroom, she found her shoes then walked back across the polished wood floor to the door, only stopping long enough to slip her shoes on. Grasping the ornate handle, she pushed on it and the door opened. A quick glance out into the hallway didn’t reveal anyone. So stepping forward, she walked out of the room. It was suddenly easier to breathe. It was a tad overdramatic of her to think that way, but she couldn’t help feeling relieved. She’d never realized just how much of a privilege it was to make her own decision. Even going to work was now something she couldn’t do. If nothing else, her brush with death was teaching her to adjust her thinking when it came to priorities. That’s not all you’re doing… The little voice inside her head was annoying. It kept dragging her attention back to Trace. Her self-discipline seemed helpless against the nagging inner voice that was intent on dwelling on her host. Sex had never been so prominent in her thoughts. A tiny smile curved her lips. Well at least she couldn’t fault the selection of male for her obsession. Casting a glance around the hallway, she noted the detailed molding running the length of the walls. Each door was framed in hardwood that was matched and polished perfectly. The carpet beneath her feet was plush and padded. Whoever Trace was, the man ran a business that was profitable. The back halls always told the true story. If there was a cash-flow problem, the corners would be cut where the public didn’t venture. 58
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Moving steadily forward, she found a set of stairs. Climbing them sent a tingle of tension over her skin as she waited for anyone to stop her. No one did and the top showed her another door. Pushing it open revealed a surprise. All around her was plush seating in shades of purple, gold and scarlet. Long, curved sofas that snaked out from the dance floor like party ribbons. There were tables and some chairs but the way each sofa-backed ribbon twisted and turned created alcoves that looked almost private. It wasn’t constructed for high-energy dancing nights. Instead the place looked as if it was designed for relaxing. A dance floor was off to one side, the polished wood sections gleaming from recent cleaning. Above it was the black iron caging with lights attached. There wasn’t a stage. Instead a DJ’s control station was discreetly tucked into a corner. A bar was on the other side of the club. Mia walked towards it, fascinated by the handcrafted woodwork. It looked like something from the Titanic. Elegance was evident in every bit of it. Crystal sparkled from the glass racks. The most common things in sight were the beer glasses but even those were heavy bottomed ones, not the thin bargain models. The liquor on display was impressive too. Decorative bottles held a collection of spirits that would have impressed a five-star restaurant. Everything was spotless, even the air didn’t smell dingy. She heard the faint sound of the air system filtering even though the air-conditioning wasn’t needed. Four sets of double doors were set into one half of the back wall. There were more tables on that end of the club telling her that there was a kitchen behind those doors. Her belly grumbled, reminding her that she had walked away from her meal. She wasn’t sorry though. She moved towards the kitchen, enjoying the moment of freedom to explore Trace’s world without him being aware of it. Not that she wanted to be secretive, it was just a desire to be more in balance with him that fueled her enjoyment of the moment. She didn’t like being weaker in his eyes. In fact, she detested it. There was a part of her that wanted him to see her as strong and capable. Not some fragile female who needed caring for. Like a princess… Although she did have to admit that she enjoyed to way he used the title on her. She shouldn’t because the way he rolled the word made her think of sex again. As though he was calling her princess because she was better than any woman he’d ever known. Worthy of being the one woman he allowed to touch his feelings. Which was ludicrous. The man owned his own club. Women were always around. Ones who were looking for a man too. For that matter, Kim might just be taking care of the erection she’d felt against her belly during that kiss. The other woman had made it plain that she was more than interested in getting Trace to take her to bed. The idea of the two of them being entwined sent another bolt of hot temper through her. Pausing halfway to the wooden doors, she frowned at her own possessiveness. It was going to land her in trouble no matter what she decided to do. On one hand, she
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could refuse to do anything at all and blister Trace for kissing her or she could answer the flare of hunger he inspired. But becoming his lover didn’t come with anything more than a promise of a good time. The kitchen door opened and a middle-aged man popped his head through. He smiled at her, his Asian eyes closing almost all the way as he grinned. “There’s my food challenge. Come on in.” He pushed the door wide in invitation. “If I let you go hungry, my conscience will keep me up.” She laughed softly at his drama. Here was another man in prime condition. It was actually getting a little spooky the way every person she met looked fit for military service. The cook looked past her. “I’ll ring you when she’s on the move again.” Mia jumped and turned around to find Ivens leaning in the doorway at the top of the stairs. His gaze considered her for a moment, a soft warning hitting her. “Please don’t leave the building, Ms. Kerten.” He straightened up and shot the cook a solid look. “I’ll have my ears on.” Her jaw wanted to drop but she clenched her teeth to keep from looking like an idiot. She wasn’t used to looking over her shoulder. It was just another slap of reality, showing her that Trace was right to keep her. She wouldn’t last very long on her own. She was just too trusting. She might be grateful to Trace but she was still sorry for him. It was a shame that anyone had to live like this at all. “Welcome to my world.” The door was held wide as a whiff of cooking food made its way to her nose. Her belly grumbled loud as the cook laughed at her. “Come on in and pull up a seat. I have some egg flour soup that you can try. It was my mother’s recipe.” “Then it must be good.” The polite response passed her lips without any effort. Mia smiled because it made her feel more balanced to do something as simple as exchanging polite conversation. Her head didn’t reach the cook’s shoulders as she walked by him. The door swung closed as he pointed at a row of bar stools in front of one of the long prep counters. “Welcome to the best table in the Play Yard. Seating reserved for the most prominent guests only.” He walked around the counter, pausing at a sink to wash his hands. He scrubbed both sides of his hands, proving that he was as high quality as everything else she’d seen in the club. “Ivens doesn’t understand why Asians like us don’t like eating alone.” He lifted a lid off a large pot and studied the contents. “But I do. If there aren’t ten people eating with me, it can’t be dinner time. I think that was ingrained in me at birth.”
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“Do you come from a big family?” A bowl of steaming soup landed in front of her, the scent of it making her smile. “Do you know any Asian family that isn’t large? I don’t.” Mia laughed as she lifted the spoon. It wasn’t a metal spoon either but a ceramic Asian one. There were always people eating at her house because even extended family stayed close. Her nightclubbing was the exception because it took her away from the family table. Cambria was the only friend she had who wasn’t somehow related to someone in her family. “I’m Jae. Head cook. My kitchen is your kitchen.” He offered her a half bow but his eyes remained serious. “As long as you understand one thing. If you get me in trouble with the bossman for not eating what I cook, we’re going to have words.” Mia only stared at him with her mouth full of soup. A huge grin appeared on his face as she chewed. “Now that’s perfect. I like you already.” Swallowing, she dipped her spoon again. “I don’t eat that much. You and Trace are being overprotective. Missing one meal won’t hurt me.” “You forget that my mother taught me how to cook.” Jae pegged her with a hard look that brought a bubble of laughter to her lips. With a half bow she offered him a demure look. “You used the mother excuse. There’s no arguing with that.” Looking over another steaming spoonful of soup, Mia narrowed her eyes at Jae. “But it’s hitting below the belt.” “I still scored the point.” She lingered over the next few spoonfuls, considering the club cook. Jae looked perfectly at ease in the kitchen, his hands steady as he worked a few other pots that were heating on the range. But there wasn’t any chubby belly under his apron. It wasn’t even the type of apron that she’d expect to see on a cook. This one was tied around his lean waist. It hung only to his mid-thigh with three pockets but went all the way around him. There was a bulge near the center of his back that her eyes lingered on. The garment was all utility and made to allow him a full range of motion. Just like his body was refined with tight muscles across his shoulders and upper arms. “What’s on your mind?” He hadn’t been looking at her, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t watching her. Jae turned his face to hers. “If you want to know, ask the question.” “Somehow, I’m not so sure that asking will guarantee an answer.” “Suit yourself.” Pointing her spoon at him, Mia pushed her lips into a pout that Cambria would have approved of. Jae laughed at her, a deep-toned rumble that shook his chest as he nodded. “I was just wondering why everyone I’ve met looks like they belong in military uniform.”
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Jae titled his head as his lips pressed together. “Not too bad.” Mia huffed under her breath. “It’s sort of obvious that no one around here is normal. Not that I mean to insult anyone but what’s the deal? You’re a cook but there’s a gun under that apron. Somehow, I don’t think you’re armed because the meat is that fresh.” Jae’s face went serious, his emotions hidden behind a mask of control. “And you noticed it.” She set her spoon down, frustration making her do it too fast, and it clattered against the bowl. “See? That’s why I didn’t ask any questions to begin with. You are all edgy. You only want me to ask so that you can hear what I’m thinking.” Jae shrugged. “We like to refer to it as being on guard.” Mia only huffed at him. His lips twitched in response. “We were all part of a military unit. Some of us didn’t find the return to civilian life quite the relief we were told it should be.” “That’s sad.” And it was. Jae only shrugged again, sweeping her empty bowl off the counter. “Now that’s a very civilian thing to say. I spent years training to achieve my position among the Special Operations units. A goal like that isn’t something you just drop when you get your decommission papers. I devoted half my life to it, so walking away is rather devastating.” “I guess I never thought about it that way.” Jae filled a tea pot, pouring boiling water through loose leaf tea. With a little twist, he sealed the top and set it in front of her. “I made it to the top of my field because I thrived on it. Training is still something I enjoy. It’s not something that most civilians understand or cope with very well.” It was also something that he defined himself by. She had seen the same thing in Trace, just not understood exactly what it was. “The club opens at eight.” Jae’s face was back to being expressionless but his eyes were glittering with curiosity. A tingle of excitement rippled through her as she considered being able to go dancing without needing to sneak out. Or that Trace might be watching her… That was a wicked thought if ever she’d had one. Her cheeks heated as she poured herself a cup of tea. Steam rose from the rim of her porcelain cup as the heat bled down into her lips. The sensitive skin tingled as her mind offered up a crystal clear recollection of how Trace’s mouth felt against her own. “Trace is always on the club floor when we’re open.” Mia jumped, hot tea splashing over the edge of the cup to sting her fingers. Jae’s attention fixed on her. Her face burned brighter as she realized how simply she’d just
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drifted off into her own thoughts. A smile appeared on his lips, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. It was full of male understanding and camaraderie. “There is nothing between Trace and me.” Jae’s eyes narrowed “The blush on your face says otherwise. So did the tone of his voice when he instructed me to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” She stood up, her feet getting tangled as she tried to make them move so suddenly. “Thank you for the soup and tea. They were very good.” But the blatant digging to discover if she belonged to the boss was too much. She had enough trouble dealing with her own impulses concerning the man. She didn’t need to add his staff’s expectations into the mixture. Pushing open the wooden doors, she exited the kitchen just in time to see Ivens coming through the door at the top of the stairs. Frustration made her jaw ache as she clenched her teeth. “I’ve got her.” She gasped softly as Trace’s voice sailed over her shoulder towards his security man. Sensation rippled down her spine as she turned to see him walking across the club. His body moved so sensually, her eyes were glued to him. In the same manner that she might watch a lion. Her breasts felt swollen behind her top and bra, the nipples hardening as she watched Trace’s eyes sweep her from head to toe. His lips curved into a ghost of a smile but there was heat flickering in his eyes when his gaze returned to hers. Hard male satisfaction reflected out of his dark eyes and it made her mad. She was so angry, her heart accelerated. Her nose actually flared as her respiration increased. The wave of jealousy was complexly inescapable. It broke over her, tumbling her in its powerful grip. Trace stopped in front of her, his keen stare dissecting her emotions. With a jerk, she looked away, the need to hide from him more pressing than it had ever been. Trace saw too much. He ripped aside her composure in one dark-eyed look. The worst thing about it was that she cared what he thought about her. His opinion mattered. It shouldn’t have but it did. A firm hand captured her chin, cupping it with warm fingers. Trace raised her head until their eyes met, stepping closer so that she could smell his skin. It teased her, taunting her with how much she wanted to smooth her hands over his bare chest. “Your jealousy is a dangerous thing, Princess.” “It’s none of my business who you spend the day with.” Pulling her head out of his grip, she shrugged. “Kim was very excited about getting the chance to place her hands on you.” He watched her, his eyes picking apart her words. She shifted backward, too many signals running up and down her nerves to avoid reacting to some of them. “But I wasn’t in a hurry to play my assigned part at all.” She heard a slight accent as his voice dipped into a deep tone. Almost as though he was losing his grip on his
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emotions as well, no longer able to maintain full focus on his speech. That telltale accent that betrayed the strain on his self-discipline. There was something deep inside her that enjoyed knowing it. Some instinct that urged her to test him further. She looked away, shocked by her own ideas. The moment of inattention was taken advantage of. Trace bent and pressed his mouth against her, one hand landing on her lower back as he pulled her against his body. He pressed her head back, taking firm command of the kiss. A hand cupped the side of her face and a whimper broke through their lips. She heard the hard rasp of his breath before he pressed another kiss onto her mouth. But it wasn’t hard or forced. It was smooth and hot, tempting her to open her mouth along with his. The tip of his tongue traced her lower lip as he gently pulled her chin down. Sweet sensation flowed from their joined lips. It ran down her body towards that quiver in her belly. It flared up into a full flame of need that licked along her passage. Her well-debated ideas evaporated as she reached for him, laying her hands on the hard chest, stroking along the ridges. The fabric annoyed her, so she slipped a finger through to discover what his skin felt like. A shudder shook his torso as her fingertip made contact. The hand on her face slipped around to capture her nape. His kiss changed, becoming more demanding as he held her neck in place. Her mouth yielded to the increased pressure as she popped the button open that held his shirt closed. Her entire hand slipped off the fabric of his shirt and onto the hot skin hidden behind it. She didn’t understand her need to touch him and she didn’t care anymore. Her body twisted as his mouth left hers to press against her neck. He bit her gently, his teeth adding just a hint of pain to the rush of sweet, hot sensation flooding her bloodstream. Her hips twisted and pressed forward until she felt the hard shape of his cock again. A soft sound of satisfaction left her lips as she pressed her body against his, delighting in the harder feel of his frame. Her heart was racing and along with it her respiration increased. She suddenly caught the hint of Kim on him, her mind instantly recalling what perfume the woman had been wearing. With a jerk, she broke their kiss but the arm around her held firm for a few seconds. Anger danced through his eyes a second before he cussed beneath his breath and released her. “I’m not a boy to be teased, Princess. Rub your body against mine and I won’t be releasing you with just a kiss.” There was a slant to his eyes that made her blush with shame. A hint of disapproval that she’d never seen on his face for her and she didn’t like it. “I wasn’t teasing you.” His lips pressed into a hard line. Hunger burned so brightly in his eyes, they almost glowed. He muttered something in Russian before grasping her wrist and pulling her behind him as he strode to the doorway that led to the stairs. They were already at the top of the staircase when her temper flared up. The tight grip around her wrist infuriated her but struggling on a flight of steps wasn’t very logical.
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Oh, but she wasn’t feeling very logical. The second they reached the hallway, she shot a low stream of Korean at his wide back. He yanked the door to her room open and pulled her past him, spinning her loose in front of him. A tiny shiver raced down her spine as she looked at the way he’d managed to block the escape with his huge body. Her fingers were only too happy to remind her of just how much hard muscle was packed onto his chest. He pushed the door shut, his face an unreadable mask. But something inside her refused to be intimidated. With any other man she would have recognized the danger of challenging someone so much stronger than herself. Trace brought out a stubborn streak she hadn’t even known she had. She tossed her head, flipping her hair away from her face as she shot him a furious look. “Don’t be a poor sport, Princess. If you want to insult me, don’t hide behind a language I don’t understand.” His voice had developed an edge. Warning flickered through his eyes as he moved closer to her, one large step at a time. Her belly fluttered, excitement shooting into her sheath and down to her clit. Her temper rose along with her passion. She should not want this…this arrogant, commanding man. The only thing she should feel should be contempt for his brazen approach. Stolen kisses shouldn’t be so hot. “My Korean is as fair as you calling me things in Russian. You aren’t the only one who can shut the other out by changing languages. It’s cowardly to hide your comments behind a language that you know I don’t understand.” He froze for a moment, his lips twitching up into a grin. In spite of her best intentions, Mia scooted backward as she watched his face light up with promise. Trace followed her, keeping the distance between them the same, his lips looking impossibly sensual. Her own tingled, longing for another kiss. “A rather clever observation, Princess.” He paused for a moment, his eyes slipping down her body to linger over her breasts. Her nipples were still hard and poking out, the soft fabric of her top doing very little to disguise them. “Except the assumption that I was changing to my native language because I was afraid to have you hear what was really on my mind.” His raised his gaze back to her face. A silent gasp left her lips as she got a look at his eyes. They were ablaze with hunger, no polite manners in sight. “I changed to Russian because calling you a virgin didn’t seem very likely to please you. Even if it’s abundantly clear.” His voice was hard, allowing no room for argument. Her lips curled as a tiny huff made it past her clenched teeth. Drawing herself up, she refused to back away from him, in fact she leaned towards him, her pride blinding her to just how much stronger he was than her. “I am a virgin.” Her voice shook as she glared up into his eyes. “It is not a shame.”
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He caught her, his hand hooking into the waistband of her pants. She snarled at the unexpected attack but with a quick tug she tumbled into his body. He clamped an arm around her waist as a hand cupped her chin. “Sweet Princess, I never implied that your virginity was anything but admirable. Which is why I said it in Russian. Just because I find it frustrating doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.” He leaned closer, bending his face so that his breath brushed her ear. “That’s the problem, Mia. I find the idea of introducing you to passion quite tantalizing.” She jerked against his hold, tension making her tremble. But it would have been a lie to say it was his fault. Her body had turned traitor. Her hands begged for her to simply stop thinking about everything except the hard body within reach. He chuckled next to her ear, his hand slipping around her face, along her jawline to thread through her hair and cup the back of her head. “I’m mesmerized by the idea of discovering what sort of sounds you make when your body it stroked just right. The way you twist against me has me dwelling on how you’d move if I was riding you.” She gasped, her face burning at the blunt words, but excitement shot down her spine too. Her fingers curled into talons as she frantically tried to keep her hips curled back enough to leave an inch of space between their lower bodies. Her lips went dry as she contemplated feeling his erection again. It was too tempting…too taunting to her teetering self-control. “Talking dirty doesn’t turn me on.” “Yes it does.” He lifted his face, capturing her gaze with his. Hard determination was etched into his features, a small tic working on one side of his jaw. “And do you know why, Princess? Because I excite you. My words aren’t some overconfident kid’s idea of defying his parental teaching—they are pure, unpolished truth. There is nothing I’d like better than to enact each and every one of them.” He leaned down until his breath teased her lips. Sensation shot down her spine, wringing a whimper from her as the tender skin on her lips responded to the brush of air. She jerked and he let her go. She stood stunned for a moment before he reached around her and grasped her wrist. With a pull, he turned her around so that she was facing the double doors. He pressed up against her, the hard outline of his cock against her. She gasped as his arms closed around her, his large body pinning her against the doors. “Let me go.” “I’m not hurting you.” He wasn’t causing her even a tiny twinge of pain. She shouldn’t have thought about it though. That iron self-control excited her, making her body her worst enemy. Her hips lifted ever so slightly, rubbing against the hard bulge behind her. The hard chest up against her back rumbled as he chuckled. “My point exactly.” He pressed a warm kiss against the smooth column of her throat and sensation rippled across her skin. She lifted her chin out of sheer surprise that such a simple contact 66
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between them could feel so incredible. The level of reaction was astounding. His hand moved up until all five of his fingers were spread out over her throat. It drove home how large he was compared to her because he could have gripped her neck with that single hand. “I called you a virgin because you don’t know what you’re playing with when you rub against my cock, Mia.” He pressed his erection against her, making sure she felt it hard and promising on her ass cheeks. “Don’t…tease…me.” He growled the last three words. The hand around her waist suddenly moved, stroking firmly across her belly. She gasped as it traveled lower, all the way to the top of her mons. She whimpered as he rubbed it, firmly touching what no man had ever placed his hand on. Pleasure shook her as he moved his hand up and down, rubbing over her clit. “When you press against me, this is what I want to do…touch you and listen to you cry with delight.” His voice was harsh as her hips lifted to his hand. She bit into her lower lip as tension began to twist and claw at her reasons for resisting. Another firm slip and she gasped, shivering as need flared, filling her pussy. She’d never felt empty before, but now she did. The hard cock pressing against her bottom…the thing she craved most. Right or wrong didn’t matter. Pressing against Trace did. “You like that, don’t you?” He pulled his hand away from her mons, stroking upward. A whimper left her mouth as he toyed with her waist, teasing it with a long stroke of his fingers. That wasn’t where she wanted his hand. “Pillow talk is quite erotic, Princess. You really should consider trying it. For instance, you could tell me to rub your clit and I would tell you that I’d be happy to stroke you until you whimpered again.” “I can’t.” Her words came across her lips like a wail of despair, longing edging each one. Trace tsked under his breath, his lips pressing a warm kiss against her neck. “Why not? The best way to get what you want is to ask for it.” “What kind of a girl says something like that?” His hand dived down, applying pressure and friction to her clit for a moment before he lifted it away. “The sort of girl who isn’t playing with a man when she pushes her hands through his shirt to get at his skin.” There was hard fury in his tone now. The sound frightened her with its intensity. She had pushed him just as much as he had pushed her. They were dancing around a fire that neither of them controlled. “You smell like Kim, her perfume is all over you.” He muttered something in Russian again. This time she didn’t need a translation because profanity had a tone that you recognized even if the word was foreign.
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His hand slid smoothly down her body, but this time he rubbed deeper, going further between her thighs. Pleasure shot up into her pussy and her feet shifted apart as need controlled her. Her eyes closed as everything centered under the hard stroking of that hand. Need and heat tightened under it as she anticipated each up and down motion. Her heart raced as she lifted her hips against his hand and suddenly everything spun in a crazy circle as pleasure burst through her. She screamed as her body became too small to contain all the pleasure. It tumbled through her, touching every inch of her and washing back down to her belly where it pooled under his hand. She shuddered, hard, racking spasms that left her limp. Her hands pressed against the closed door in front of her as her legs quivered, the muscles like rubber. “You’re very dangerous, Princess, but so extremely tempting.” There was a coating of kindness in his words, his voice raspy and dark. He scooped her off her feet, swinging her against his chest. “Why do you carry me so much?” The question rolled past her lips without any consideration from her brain. She wasn’t thinking and didn’t think she could if she tried. Concentration was beyond her grasp. Her fingers settled on top of his chest, detecting the beat of his heart. He laid her on the bed, sitting beside her as he tenderly stroked her tousled hair out of her face. “I enjoy touching you, any way I can.” He leaned down, his mouth pressing against hers in a slow kiss. Sweet sensation flowed from the fusing of their lips but it wasn’t a hungry one. He smoothed his mouth across hers, gently licking her lower lips with the tip of his tongue before standing up. “But touching you is like playing with fire.” He moved a few steps away from the bed, strain drawing his face tight. “Apparently, I’m not smart enough to leave the flames alone. But at least I left you a virgin.” He turned and walked to the doors, stopping for a moment. Rolling onto her side, Mia propped her head on her hand as her knees rose towards her chest. Her body was limp and heavy with delight. All she wanted to do was strip her clothing off and curl up next to the warm, hard body of her lover. “Maybe that’s not what I wanted.” He froze with one hand on the door, his large shoulders jerking slightly as her words made it to his ears. He turned, his gaze taking in every detail of her. “I know it wasn’t but I’m the one with enough experience to know better so I left you satisfied but still a virgin. It wasn’t what I wanted either.” He pushed through the door before she answered. Staring at the carved wood of the door, two tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t sure why the drops of water rose to her eyes, couldn’t quite decide how she felt. Emotion was so thick she was choking on it but that didn’t mean that she understood it. Only that it was overwhelming. Satisfied? No she wasn’t satisfied.
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Not by a long shot and that frightened her. Ramos and his hit men didn’t scare her half as much as knowing that she was lost in a sea of her own desires. It was like knowing that she was going insane. Understanding that she was going to be unable to control her actions, even to the point of shaming herself. She wanted him, needed him now. The hunger was burning through every reason she had to deny her body what it craved. Every strict discipline that she’d been reared with was crumbling beneath her feet, leaving her falling through open space towards an unknown fate. Rolling back onto the bed, she shut her eyes and the twin tears squeezed out to run in tiny trails towards the pillow beneath her head. Sweet, taunting passion. As cruel and amazing as she’d always heard it was. The soft throb of satisfaction between her thighs lacked completion. Raising her eyelids, she looked at the persimmon silk draping the top of the canopy bed. Ask for what she wanted? Maybe she would simply show him what he wanted instead. She didn’t know how to compete against his practiced and experienced hand. Pillow talk wasn’t something she could fake but she did know how to be herself. Show him that one thing that she’d snuck away and hid. Her mind flew to the clothing neatly hung in the closet. All of it was a part of her, a reflection of a facet of her personality that she’d always tried to conceal. Until now. If there was a single man on the face of the planet who would understand her need to dance, it would be Trace. At least she hoped he was. That was what she was afraid of. If he did understand her, she might become his willing slave. Devoted completely to a man who wouldn’t need her so deeply in return. It was a harsh reality that frightened her but even the fear of being drawn to Trace without any promise of anything beyond physical gratification wasn’t enough to stop the surge of need building inside her. No, she didn’t want to be a virgin any longer.
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Chapter Six She tasted sweet. Trace leaned against the door, gritting his teeth. He could smell her, taste her, still hear her cries echoing inside his skull. It was a torment designed to unhinge his mind but one that he didn’t want to banish just yet because it would separate him from her. His princess… Straightening up, he grimaced as his cock complained bitterly. It felt swollen past its capacity. He chuckled as he moved down the hallway. Only the young felt like that. He had enough experience to know that an erection wasn’t emotional. But then again, Mia seemed to be shaking up what he thought he knew. He opened his private living area door, pressing his palm onto a scanner. The hightech security system helped him sleep better. The swollen cock behind his fly was going to disrupt that little pattern of his life. Off in one corner was his office and across the way his bed. Everything he used was here. He reached for a decanter of Cognac. It was the only alcohol in his private room. Pouring a measure of the potent drink into a snifter, he swirled it beneath his nose as he closed his eyes. She’d smelled Kim’s perfume on him… Opening his eyes, he put down his glass and moved to the bathroom. He detected the slightest hints of the fragrance now and it bothered him. Almost as if he could feel it splattered on his shirt like some foul substance. It was absurd but not a whole lot about Mia made sense. What was one more oddity? He chuckled, enjoying the way she upset his world. Maybe it had been too long since he’d had anything but order and control. That might be the real fascination factor. Shrugging out of his clothing, he caught sight of his erection in the mirror. His cock stood stiff, not a hint of waning interest now that Mia wasn’t within arm’s reach any longer. Normally that was all it took for him to control an erection. Just a little space and he could shut any bed partner he’d had in the last two years out of his mind. Mia wasn’t so simple to banish—in fact it was proving mission impossible. He turned on the shower and stepped into it while it was ice-cold. A harsh word passed his gritted teeth as the frigid water ran down his overheated skin. The hot water kicked in but his cock was still hard. Reaching for some soap, he began to scrub away every last hint of anything that wasn’t Mia. His cell phone buzzed a few minutes later. Wiping a towel across his face, he picked up the call. “Do you somehow think that I’m going to back off because you manage to get in the way of one objective?” Raul Ramos’ voice was calm and smooth on the other end of
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the line. Trace knew the type, he would kill without remorse. He didn’t have a conscience. There was only one way to deal with his kind. “I think you don’t need to make an enemy out of me.” Trace made sure his voice was as unemotional as a glacier. “On that point we agree. There’s no need for you to take what’s happening to Dack Tyden and his band of followers personally. You’ve got plenty of friends besides them.” “But I’m not in the habit of taking advice from men like you who are definitely not on my list of friends. Dack Tyden is.” There was a long pause on the other end of the call. Trace didn’t fill the void. It was a tense game, one where they each waited to see what made the other edgy. “So you bled together out in the Pakistan dessert. It was a long time ago. You’ve built yourself a nice little life, posh club, good money, no need to watch it go up in smoke.” “One of my buildings won’t be so easy for you to take out without leaving a trail of evidence. I suggest you quit while you’re ahead. Unless you’d like me to join Dack on his crusade to drag you in. Touch one thing I own and I’ll make sure your name sticks to it.” There was silence again on the other end of the line. “The bitch wasn’t yours. You should have kept your nose out of it.” “She’s mine now.” Trace let his voice fill with heat. If Ramos wanted to fight over Mia, he intended to win. “Start going after lambs and you’re going to discover real fast just how many friends Dack and his unit have.” Ramos snickered. “You think I give a shit about a bunch of decommissioned assholes who hang out at your clubs trying to figure out how to live? The chickenshits need to be plugged for turning in their guns.” A low rasp of breath came through the line. “Fine, you’re Dack’s friend? You better get on the line and tell your friend to not rock the boat with me. Tell him to keep his mouth shut and I won’t need to seal it for him. As for the Asian bitch, since she’s yours now, I suggest you remember that I’m a man of action. Take me on and I’ll have to teach you that lesson the hard way.” The line went dead and Trace pressed in his unscramble code. He cussed when the cell phone flashed a public phone location at him. Striding out of his bathroom, he yanked on a pair of pants as he buzzed Ivens. Public phones only had one advantage, there was often a security camera somewhere around them. He wanted a picture of the son of a bitch, tangible, hard evidence to begin nailing the lid on his coffin shut. Raul Ramos was right about one thing, Mia was his and no one touched what was his.
***** Planning to seduce a man took more effort than Mia had anticipated. Or actually the women who invested their time in trying to stop men in their tracks weren’t getting 71
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enough recognition because it took forever to decide what to wear. She finally gave up and just picked what she liked. The truth was, she didn’t buy clothes that she thought men would like on her, she shopped for things that made her heartbeat accelerate. Add in the fact that she didn’t even know what kind of woman Trace liked and she was in a no-win situation. He liked her… Her inner voice needed to be slapped. It was getting her into every bit of trouble that her parents and extended family had ever warned her would come her way if she strayed away from family protection. She was insane to even think about wanting Trace as her lover. But that didn’t stop the need from needling at her constantly. In the short number of days that she’d known him, he’d somehow taken over a huge chunk of her mental time. She thought about him when she was doing common things like showering. He invaded her mind when she was reading the newspaper but that wasn’t the worst. When she slept, he was right there in her head, spinning wicked ideas of passion through her slumber. She’d fallen asleep and spent a restless couple of hours tossing around the bed while her body yearned. This was becoming pathetic. Actually she was the pathetic one. She’d been a virgin twenty-six years and suddenly she was in a rush to discovery what sex felt like? Humans didn’t need sex— they enjoyed it, liked it but it wasn’t a need of the body like water or sleep. At least that was what had always kept her steady and strong before. Tonight she was questioning her own mind. She felt off balance but the strangest thing about it all was how much she enjoyed the feeling. Thumbing through the carefully hung-up clothing, she paused as she found the three garter belts she owned. She’d never worn them outside her storage unit. They weren’t the imitation Fredrick’s of Hollywood sort either. These were imported from Great Britain. From a tailor who still made them the time-honored way. Rumor had it even Princess Diana had shopped at the same establishment. Pulling the hanger off the rod, she looked at the black silk, edged in lace and the buckles that would hold onto the hosiery. Her stomach flipped over with excitement. It flared up her body until her nipples drew into hard points. Well that settled it—she was wearing it.
***** Ivens stepped into the hallway before she’d made it three steps from the persimmon room door. The man’s face was a clam mask of control but his eyes spoke volumes as they swept her from top to bottom and back once more. In the hallway she could actually hear the faint sounds of music from the club one floor above.
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She had to tighten her resolve and keep moving. The hard-bodied man watched her and fell into step behind her as she climbed the stairs. It made her self-conscious because she’d always gone dancing among strangers. But she wasn’t returning to her room for a boring night spent alone. Her body was sick of sleeping and sitting around. Ivens touched her on the shoulder before she opened the door that led to the club floor. “Please remain in the building.” It was phrased as a request but stated in a solid commanding tone. “I understand.” “Don’t disappoint me by thinking it’s a load of nonsense. I wouldn’t be following you around if I thought it wasn’t needed.” Mia froze for a moment. “Do you work for Trace or with him?” Ivens offered her a slight grin. “Both, but my days of taking crap assignments are past.” “I see.” She turned towards the door but turned back around to look at the silent man. “Thank you.” He smiled at her. Just for a moment before he wiped it off his face, like the expression had surprised him with how fast it had broken through his controlled exterior. “The club is pretty full tonight. You’ll enjoy yourself. The clientele is screened. I’ll be watching.” Watching… For the next hour, she was the one watching. The atmosphere of the Play Yard was a mixture of sultry and relaxation. The lighting was muted but the only swirling ones were on the dance floor. Most clubs turned the entire seating area into a loud, confusing lit scene that gave the customer the illusion of excitement. Trace’s club wasn’t like that. The music was kept low enough that the guests at the far side bar didn’t have to yell to hear each other. While on the dance floor it was loud enough for you to feel the beat. The plush seating twisted and turned in shades of purple and gold. Where the seats curved, alcoves were created and where it bowed out guests could view a good portion of the club. Food service was near the kitchen, several waitresses shuttling platters of food to the tables. But the surprising thing was the number of men in the place. It was a girl’s dream. It had to be around four or five to one. The men themselves were really mind-blowing because they all looked fit for military service. There were tall and short, lanky and stocky, but not one of them looked unfit. What they also had in common was the way they watched everything around them. There was more than one card game going on, but the players would scan every person who moved into their line of sight. Well, it was Trace’s place all right.
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She looked at the bar but was too agitated to drink. Plenty of attention settled on her as she moved slowly around the floor. But unlike the clubs she’d been to before, no one approached her trying to hit on her the second she appeared. Instead she felt the weight of their stares and caught glimpses of grins as she moved past. She understood why. These sort of men would watch first. They never charged into an unknown situation. At the moment, she was being studied. But she didn’t need a partner to dance. In fact, there were more women on the dance floor than men and they appeared to enjoy dancing while the predominantly male audience watched from the shadows. She was used to being watched when she danced. Moving towards the dance floor, Mia recognized a truth about herself that she’d failed to notice before. She craved knowing that she was desirable. It was her way of dealing with sexual frustration and the fact that her family wouldn’t approve of her taking a lover. She’d never realized it, never noticed why she was sneaking out to go clubbing. Now she understood. Her body began moving with the beat as she joined the women on the floor. It became clearer as she noticed her company—there wasn’t a single man on the floor, only about nine other women. Each of them was like her and she was in turn not so original in her quest to dance away her stresses. It was such a relief she stretched her hands up above her head and turned in a slow circle. Sweet relief poured over her as she moved in time with the music, for the first time free of the constant nagging from her conscience. There wasn’t anything abnormal about her. She could carve out her niche and not be ashamed of it. She could even be at peace with her choice of a lover. Her dancing changed as she thought about it…about Trace. Her mood altered as her body began dancing for a different reason. He was watching her, she knew it. Somewhere among the shadowed faces he was following her with his eyes. It was sultry and wicked knowledge, touching off a slow flow of heat through her body. She enjoyed it, savoring the heat as it flickered over her skin. Her clit was alive with need as she continued dancing, her skirt flipping across her thighs to show a hint of her garter belt to those watching. To Trace. A low, sultry laugh left her lips as she turned and found his eyes trained on her. Like a tiger sighting its prey from just outside the light. There was a hint of danger clinging to him and she realized that it had always been there. The steady command he held over himself a testament to the fact that his life wasn’t calm or safe. But he was a solid rock among the shifting winds that blew around him. She shivered as she realized how mesmerized she was by him. Her mood shattered, the dance floor losing its appeal in that moment when she looked back at him. There were suddenly too many people around. She felt crowded, her skin agitated by the few women dancing around her.
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With a shake of her hips she left the floor, dancing no longer a tonic for the tension holding her in its grip. Striding through the club, she moved towards the door at the back of it. Bulosan was standing near it, wearing a suit that was pressed to perfection. His nearly shaved head reflected some of the light from the ceiling. A slim microphone was sitting on one side of his jaw. He pressed in a quick series of numbers on a keypad that was set into the wall. There was a flash of green light and he opened one hand towards the door. “Good night, Ms. Kirsten.” The burly security man didn’t follow her. As she moved down the steps to the lower floor, she felt alone for the first time in days. That struck her as odd. Almost as if she was vulnerable. Which was silly, there were cameras on her right now, as she’d discovered earlier. Opening the door, she stepped into her room. A little sense of disappointment hit her as she looked behind her into the hallway and found it empty. “Do you actually think I didn’t follow you?” She jumped, stumbling slightly as her spike heels failed to make good landing shoes. Trace smiled slightly from his position near the canopy bed. Her cheeks flushed, hot and searing as she saw him. Thinking about him as her lover wasn’t nearly as potent as actually having him so close. “If you danced for any man like you just did for me, be very assured that they would follow you. Even if you walked straight towards hell’s gate.” She shivered. This time it was the tone of his voice that caused the ripple of emotion. It was dark and husky, hinting at a crack in his iron control. “How did you get in here?” He shrugged, still leaning against the wall. “There’s a second set of stairs at the back of your closet. I had some of your clothing hung over the door. Fire safety code, there has to be two exits from any room.” And she hadn’t even thought to look. “You do realize that dressing like that is an invitation.” Mia shrugged, refusing to let his words get to her. His eyes slid down to her thighs, where the skirt ended and the lace-edged top of her hose began. Heat spread up through her pussy as she witnessed the way he stared at her body, as if it was a five-star meal being served up for his approval. “I would think you’d be the last person impressed with my clothing. You have a club full of women all wearing similar stuff.” “Hardly full of women, but if you’re implying that I could get one of them to follow me back to bed without a lot of trouble…you’re correct. That isn’t what I want.” He chuckled, low and deep as his gaze returned to hers. His hands were still folded over his chest and she realized that he was gripping his forearms. The lazy manner in which he was leaning against the wall had given her a false sense of security. Trace was 75
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anything but nonchalant. He waited until she was looking at his face again before straightening up to his full height. Her throat tightened as her nipples beaded. It was instant, her body responding to his. “You aren’t wearing it to be ignored. Quite the opposite. Aren’t you happy I noticed?” He stepped closer to her, his hands unfolding. “That doesn’t mean I want anything more than you noticing. You seem to forget that I never came dancing at your club.” He grinned at her excuse, continuing to close the distance. “That’s because my clientele tends to scare virgins.” “Everyone thinks about sex. It doesn’t mean they should try it with every person they fantasize about.” She tried to sound bored but failed as a quiver went through her belly. “Ah, a solid truth if ever there was one. I told myself the same thing the first few times finding out what you tasted like crossed my mind.” He stopped close enough that she caught a hint of his scent. It was warm and male and ultrasexy. Now that Kim’s perfume was missing, all she wanted to do was press against him. Trace raised a hand to his chin, tapping a single fingertip against his lower lip. Her eyes dropped to that finger, mesmerized by the idea of him stroking her with it. A deep chuckle drew her attention back to his eyes. “Your sweet body is very interested in me, Princess. That blush staining your cheeks is a neon sign invented by nature. Believe me, I’ve noticed it. Just as I’ve noticed how hard your nipples are. They want to be touched and not only in your dreams of me. If I was going to ignore you, I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Her eyes narrowed, his words stinging her pride. “It was your idea.” His hand shot out, as fast as a snake striking. He controlled the speed at the last second, his fingers slipping up her cheek in a smooth caress. A tiny whimper escaped her lips as their skin connected. A jolt of sensation exploded out in a shock wave that traveled across her body at light speed. “Knowing what you taste like is dangerously addictive, Princess. I’m not sure I can survive on mere dreams and daydreams now that I know what you sound like when pleasure takes control of you.” He hooked her around the waist with his other hand, stepping forward to bring their bodies together. His other hand slid down over her bottom, molding her against his larger, male frame without a millimeter of space between them. His eyes glittered with hunger as the hard shape of his cock pressed against her softer belly. “Addicts sometimes do desperate things to feed their cravings.” “Like what?”
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The question slipped past her lips as she felt his hand on her bare bottom. She had only a tiny pair of lace panties on with the garter belt and they left both sides of her ass bare. Trace boldly cupped one cheek, his fingers gripping it in a firm grasp. He laughed at her, his chest rumbling with his amusement. He pressed her forward so that she felt the shape of his cock against her belly. “I see that dirty talking has grown on you since this afternoon.” She looked away, uncertain of what she wanted. “Is that what you like in a partner?” In all of her mental deliberation she hadn’t considered what sort of woman he was used to and that she might come up very short in comparison. He leaned down until his breath brushed her ear. “What I like…what I crave is you, Princess. Hot and wet from my touch. I wanted to listen to you cry out from the pleasure I give you.” She drew her breath in sharply as his fingers slid under the lace of her panties to boldly finger her back entrance. His eyes glittered as she raised hers to stare into his. The harsh look on his face shocked her almost as much as it excited her. A jolt of need speared through her as he continued to finger her bottom, touching a place that she’d never considered a man might want to touch. “I want to spread you out on my bed and taste every hidden inch of your skin. The nipples I’ve seen poking through your clothing and the sweet wet clit I petted earlier. I want to find out what your pussy tastes like before I sink my cock into it. And then I want to see if you wrap your thighs around me or claw me when climax rips through you.” He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth. There was no teasing about it. This was bold, aggressive conquering. His hands left her body to cup the sides of her face while his mouth ravished hers. He pressed her chin down with a thumb and his tongue speared in to stroke hers. It was intimate and invading but pleasure raced through her as she reached for his neck, her hands sliding up and over his collarbones, her fingertips delighting in every second of contact with his hard body. “But not here.” His hands held her jaw very lightly, like she was fragile porcelain and he knew it. “You were right about Kim’s perfume. It didn’t belong between us.” His voice grew smoky. “I want you in my bed.” He pressed a soft kiss against her mouth before releasing her. A spasm jerked through her as her body lost contact with his. He walked past her to the doors. He turned and offered her his hand, palm up. “What do you want to do, Princess?” She bit her lip but there was only one answer. “I want to become your lover.”
*****
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Trace closed his hand around hers the second she laid her hand against his. Strong purpose decorated his features before he turned and pulled the door open. She hurried to keep up with him, her spike heels skidding on the hallway floor as she took three steps to every one of his long strides. Two doors down from her room, he flattened his hand against a dark screen set into the wall. A green light flashed beneath his hand before a very plain, nondescript door opened. Pulling one side wide, he tugged her through behind him. It shut firmly behind her, sealing them in a short entryway, with another door in front of them. This set was ornately carved wood. Trace pressed his hand against another screen and it opened for him. A shiver raced along her limbs as she took in all the security. She was suddenly conscious of just how little she knew about the man she had just told she wanted as a lover. The lack of information didn’t appear to bother her body any. In some ways, it actually made him more enticing because of the edge it added. Trace turned as he felt the tremble in her hand. He curled their joined hands up towards his mouth to press a kiss against the back of her hand. “I’m not a felon or anticipating a raid. The security is a precaution, more of a habit that I can’t shake. Too many years serving my country in classified missions has left me checking over my shoulder.” He released her hand, curling his arm around her waist to gently sweep her into the room. A little sigh escaped her lips as she looked around. There was nothing but candlelight. Scattered around the room were large dark blue candles. Yellow light shot across the room in beams from their lit wicks. The faint scent of hot wax teased her nose but there was something else. A delicate scent of jasmine floated on the air as well. The candlelight illuminated several vases set with stems of the white flowers, their petals glowing dimly. Soft strings of some sultry music filled in the moment. It was a scene set perfectly for seduction. Even the bed sheets were turned down. Not white ones but navy blue ones that shimmered in the glow of the candles. Her eyes froze on them. Kim’s voice rose to intrude on the moment. Silk sheets feel so much better against your back… “Kim talked about the silk sheets.” Mia could have bitten her tongue off for letting the hurt-edged words out of her mouth. Trace wasn’t a virgin, she knew that and didn’t have any right to be grouchy about it. A man like him drew women to him. Just as he’d done with her. “She wouldn’t know from personal experience.” Trace sent her further into his room with a slight push from the hand on her center back. Although soft, the push was centered perfectly and she stumbled forward. Turning around, she looked at him. His face was dark with hunger and even a hint of loneliness. It touched her heart because she understood feeling isolated or as if everyone else knew where they belonged and only you were too ignorant to figure out how to be happy.
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“You’re going to tell me that you never had sex with her?” It hadn’t looked that way earlier when Kim was smoothly slithering against his body, her hands confident as they touched him. “I never shared my bed with her.” Her heart heard another note of need in his voice as she stepped further into the room. Trace watched her, his eyes absorbing every tiny movement with a fascination that melted her. She’d heard plenty of polished lines from men at clubs who wanted to get between her thighs but you couldn’t fake the look that was flickering there in Trace’s eyes. It hit her square in the heart, opening a hole for him to reach in and touch her where no man ever had. “I have a dozen guest rooms on this floor alone. But my bed was mine alone. I have never brought another woman here.” He reached across the distance to stroke her jaw. Just two fingers renewing the contact between them. It felt as though a current ran between them, the energy heating her up as it flowed from him into her. “I’ve had sex with Kim before but not since I met you.” His voice turned hard, the hand on her face moving up to thread into her hair. He found the ornamental hair comb she’d tucked her hair up with and tugged it free. His lips curled away from his clenched teeth as he ran his fingers through the strands to free them. Her hair fell down her back as he gripped it near her nape. He closed the distance between them, his grip holding her captive. “I should have fucked her today. I told myself to do it so that I’d forget about touching you.” He leaned down until she felt the brush of his breath against her lips. “I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t even kiss her without wanting you instead.” His mouth landed on hers as she stood on her toes to meet him. Hot and demanding, he took her with a kiss that was deeply intimate. No playing or teasing, it was an invasion she welcomed, her mouth opening to admit his tongue. Hot need flowed down to her belly as his tongue stroked along the length of hers, teasing it, encouraging her to use her own to play with his. His other hand boldly slid up and over her ribs to cup a breast. She stiffened slightly as sensation stabbed into her sharply. But it felt so good, his fingers gently gripping her. His thumb brushed across her nipple and pleasure twisted through the delicate flesh. He suddenly released her hair and bent his knees. His arms clasped around her hips before he straightened up, sending her up into the air with his face pressed against her belly. “I’ll dance with you here, Princess. That’s what you’re really looking for, a partner.” He turned around in a slow circle, spinning her. A soft laugh rose from her throat as her head swung around above him. She lifted her arms to complete the moment, a rush of sensation shooting along her nerve endings. Her hair flowed in a dark curtain as he spun in a slow circle. It was by far the most intimate thing she’d ever done with a man. Trace was sharing her moment of freedom, joining her in the escape from duty
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and obligation. The music closed around them as she inhaled the scent of jasmine and wax again. This time she also drew in the warm scent of his skin. “God, you smell good.” The harsh note returned to his voice as he nuzzled against her belly, holding her like she didn’t weigh more than a child. She heard him inhale and shivered because no one had ever smelled her sex before. “I’m going to find out what you taste like.” His hold shifted and she slid down his body, but her feet never touched the floor. He hooked her knees with one powerful arm and caught her back so that she ended up cradled against his chest. There was no hesitation or even a moment for her to think of a response to his declaration. He strode to the turned down sheets, placing her on them. He stood beside the bed for a moment, grabbing her shoes from her feet and tossing them aside. He yanked his tie free before pulling his shirt front apart. She heard the faint popping of thread as some of the buttons scattered and hit the floor. But a gasp escaped her lips as he bared his chest. All of the muscle she’d felt was displayed. Pushing up onto her knees, she couldn’t resist the chance to touch him without a shirt separating her fingers from his skin. “Touch me, Princess. I swear I’ve never felt anything as good as your hands on me.” His chest was covered in crisp hair that ran down to where his waistband was still buttoned in place. Kneeling in front of him, she spread her hands open wide, as she explored what she’d only suspected lay behind his clothing. Hard and warm, his skin was a smooth layer covering the ridges of muscle. She inhaled, enjoying the scent of him. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss against one pectoral and then moved across his chest to do the same to the other one. Her fingers found a flat nipple and she trailed her lips to it, sucking it until she heard a harsh growl from his lips. The sound made her bold. She wanted to know that she drove him as insane as he did her. Licking the small point of his nipple, she sucked harder while toying with its twin with her fingers. Her free hand smoothed over his ribs, sliding lower until she touched the fabric of his pants. She heard his harsh breathing and sent her hand down to stroke the hard bulge sitting behind his fly. He jerked, his hips thrusting forward. Moving her hand over his erection, she rubbed it just as he’d stroked her mons. A second later the hem of her top was grasped and pulled up her body. She had to release him as the fabric slid up her arms. Her breasts were small, a B-cup on a good day, so she hadn’t bothered with a bra. The cool air brushed against her bare breasts and she pulled her arms close to cover them. Trace tossed her top aside and looked down at her. From her position kneeling in front of him, she suddenly noticed how large he was. Power was etched into every ridge of hard male muscle. A tiny shiver crossed her as she recognized how helpless she might be if he weren’t in the mood to consider her wishes. Two warm hands cupped her face as he sat on the bed. He pushed her back onto the silk sheets, his gentle touch waiting for her to comply instead of simply moving her to suit his whims.
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“Trust takes time, Mia.” He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against her face. “But there’s no way I’m letting you out of my bed.” She rolled her eyes, slapping his forearm. “That’s reassuring. What a seductive thing to say.” He caught her wrist, securing it in a firm grip. His face was unreadable except for the blazing heat in his eyes. One dark eyebrow rose as he pressed her wrist down onto the surface of the bed, rolling partially onto her as he pressed her back to the mattress. “So many things can be seductive.” One of his hard legs covered hers and pressed down until her knees parted. A little ripple of anticipation tightened her belly. “You aren’t looking for sweetness and polite asking, Princess. The seduction is in the candles and jasmine I had put out because I planned to place you in my bed tonight. But the thing that completes the moment is the fact that I did plan this, covering all the details in order to have you tonight. I didn’t ask you first because I was going to take you.” He raised his knee until it was pressing against her sex. It was bold and forced a gasp through her lips. A crazy bolt of excitement hit her as he tightened his grip on her wrist just a fraction, pinning her completely to the bed. “And I am going to have you. But first, I’m going to taste you.” “What?” Shock stole any sort of control over her words as he moved. She was free for mere seconds before he lifted her hips and pushed her further up the bed. “I said, I’m going to taste you.” He rolled right under one of her bent knees and looked up her body from between her thighs. His eyes glittered as he pressed her legs wide, spreading her. “Your pussy smells wet but it could be so much hotter. I’m going to tease your clit with my tongue, lick between your folds and find out what your cream tastes like.” His voice wasn’t pleasant. It was hard and full of determination. She bucked out of sheer surprise that anyone might actually say something out loud about oral sex. Trace chuckled at her as he pressed a hand down on top of her belly. “Wait…um…I’m not sure…I mean…” “Don’t worry, I plan to make sure you’re very satisfied with my demands.” Hard promise edged his words. She was only wearing a tiny pair of underwear and half her sex was already exposed by the spreading of her thighs. Trace brushed his fingers over the sensitive flesh as she shivered. Her eyes were glued to his head as he shifted his attention to her spread sex. She felt the brush of his breath against the wet skin as he leaned down while using his fingers to pull her folds away from her clit. A crazy twist of pleasure went through her as he touched that tender bundle of nerve endings with his tongue. Her head fell back against the bed as her spine arched. Her hands clawed at the cool silk when he used his entire tongue to lap her clit in a slow motion. Every muscle she had drew tight while she struggled to breathe. Thinking became impossible as she heard the soft, wet sounds of her pussy being licked.
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Pleasure shot up into her core while she lost the battle to remain silent. A whimper hit the ceiling and a moan she didn’t recognize as her own. Trace fashioned his lips around her clit and sucked as she lifted her hips against his mouth. It was so hot but too good to pull away from. Her pussy ached, screaming out how empty it was. The tip of his tongue toyed with her clit as sweat beaded across her skin. Her heart was racing so fast, all she heard was the pounding of her blood rushing past her eardrums. One fingertip touched the opening of her pussy and she bucked upward, a harsh cry passing her lips. A soft snicker from between her thighs surprised her. “Becoming lovers means discovering just what drives the other one insane. I’m going to enjoy gathering information from your sweet body.” He fingered the opening to her body, sliding his fingertip around it in a lazy circle. Need clamped down on her so hard it bordered on pain. Need for penetration, need to be filled. Her hips were thrusting up towards it without conscious thought. It was impulse, fueled by all the moments that Trace had touched her so far. “Trace!” He stared up her body, his expression hard, but that finger continued to circle, going no further into her body. Another fingertip brushed over her clit sending pleasure up into her body. “I told you, Mia, there’s no better way to get what you want than to ask for it.” “I can’t say…that.” He smiled at her, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. It was hard, determined maleness without a hint of yielding. His dark eyes flashed at her. “If you want me to fuck you, say so.” “Yes…” Her voice was breathless as her lower body strained for a harder connection. Just a little more pressure and she’d come. She needed to climax. He tsked at her. “Not even close, Princess.” His hand left her clit and she shuddered. The finger teasing her pussy withdrew and she hissed at him. He laughed at her temper, locking his forearm across her belly to keep her on her back. He was propped over one of her thighs and that meant she was pinned rather effectively as well as being spread. “My way. Only my way.” His voice was harsh as he used his fingers to pull her folds away from her clit again. He raised his free hand and slapped her clit with a light smack that sent a bolt of white-hot sensation through her. “You pig!” she snarled as she bucked, but his forearm held her down. “Bastard!” “Ah, we’re getting closer. I’m not your parents’ ideal of a good mate, Mia. Don’t expect me to fuck you softly or sedately. In this bed, there are no rules except the ones I make.” He raised his hand above her spread pussy again and she held her breath, her eyes wide as her clit throbbed with anticipation. Seconds swelled into hours as she watched that hand, waiting for it to descend towards her. Her hips actually lifted for the contact.
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“Tell me to do it.” His voice was harsh with command. “Yes…do it.” Her voice was breathless because she was poised on the edge of climax. “Smack me.” His hand slapped her flesh. Pleasure twisted up into her pussy but it wasn’t quite enough to send her into climax. Her hands clawed at the sheets as she whimpered, the need turning painful. She didn’t know how to bear it, only that he did. “Trace…please. I don’t know what I need from you. Only that I need you to be the one.” His hand lowered to her clit, gently rubbing it for a long moment. Her body pulsed as need became an inferno inside her. A moment later she was free as Trace rose above her. He rolled off the bed and she heard his pants being unbuttoned. With a soft sound of fabric rustling they landed on the floor. There was a crinkle of plastic before he turned around with a thin condom sheathing his cock. Her eyes stared at it for a long moment, absorbing the thick, swollen length. The bed moved as he rolled back onto it and right onto her body. His arms held her as he stroked her jaw and his body connected with hers. The hair on his chest teased her nipples and breasts. He cupped one thigh, pressing it up to spread her wide, the tip of his cock slipping into the wet opening of her body. “I need you too, Princess, more than is good for either of us.” He pressed forward, pushing his erection into her body. She gasped as her pussy stretched around the invasion. Teasing her sex had left it wet so that the entry was smooth, but her body still protested that first impaling. Her sheath burned as he pressed his length forward, slowly moving up into her. She reached for him as he stopped deep inside her, her hands gripping his shoulders as her body ached from the fullness. “Claw me.” There was eagerness in his voice now as he drew a raspy breath and his torso shuddered. He held still, watching her face as she curled her fingers and let her nails bite into his skin. “All I’ve thought about is fucking you for the past week. I swear you’ve got to be half enchantress, with all the bewitching elements that have drawn men to their deaths at your feet for centuries.” It wasn’t polished or sweet but it was Trace and that was exactly what she craved. Her body adjusted, the cock inside her no longer too large but exactly what she’d been craving. It felt so good she moaned under her breath, her eyelids fluttering because she only wanted to feel, and keeping her eyes open interfered with that. He started to move, slowly drawing out of her body. The motion sent sweet delight up into her belly as the hard length of his cock slid against her clit. Her thighs closed around his hips, trying to hold him in place. Finally they were pressed against each other, skin-to-skin with nothing to separate them. A whimper rose from her lips as he thrust deep, his entire body moving against hers. His hands framed her face, lifting her 83
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head so that he could press a kiss against her mouth. His hips kept a steady pace between her thighs, driving his cock deeply into her. But he didn’t rush. He drew each thrust out slowly, waiting for her to learn how to move with him. Lifting her hips, she shuddered as his cock slid smoothly back into her pussy. Pleasure tightened around the hard length, her lower back arching upwards. His mouth left hers and she let neck arch as every nerve ending she had became a pulsing live wire that transmitted more enjoyment to her brain. But the slow pace wasn’t enough to push her over the edge into the unknown. “Fuck me.” Her voice was breathless as she strained towards his next thrust. She expected his chest to rumble with amusement but instead he hissed softly against her ear. “As you wish, Princess.” His body moved, every powerful muscle cording. One hand twisted in her hair before he thrust hard and fast into her. “My princess,” he snarled. His teeth grazed the side of her neck. Her fingernails drew across his skin as he thrust hard enough to rock the bed. She met each plunge, her hips rising to take his cock. Her lungs froze as pleasure pulsed through her, so incredible it stole every idea from her mind. She was nothing but a receptor for the delight bursting through her. It slammed into her head at the same time it clamped around the hard cock lodged inside her pussy. Trace held her down as he bucked between her thighs, thrusting quickly a few final times before his hands tightened in her hair and buried his cock deep inside her. Her lungs finally remembered to inflate, pushing against the weight of her partner. He shifted slightly, pressing kisses along her neck. She heard the rough sound of his breathing as her hands caught a faint tremble in his chest. He shifted and rolled over, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her body felt too heavy to move, each limb made of lead. The mattress was wonderfully inviting. There was a faint sound of another condom package being ripped open. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes to stare at Trace. His wide back was to her as he tossed an empty package onto the bedside table top. He turned and rolled back closer to her, his arms closing around her as he cradled her against his body. “I haven’t come that fast in years.” His words were softly chastising. She couldn’t help but enjoy the cross tone. Rolling her onto her side, he pressed up behind her, one knee nudging between hers to allow his cock back into her body. She shivered as he pressed his length back into her, one hand settling over her mons. “But didn’t you…um…finish?” He thrust into her body, his cock still hard as the chest behind her shook with amusement.
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“The word is come and yes, I very definitely did.” He pulled free and began pumping in and out of her from behind. He bent her slightly forward over his arm as he rubbed her clit through the folds of her sex. “So did you.” She shivered as his voice drifted past her ear. It was hard and raspy, like dark temptation. The candles still flickered over them, making it seem as though they’d stepped into the heart of the night where lovers met for trysts. The slow, steady motion of his body behind her was wicked as well as delicious, the walls of her sheath enjoying the hard flesh moving in and out of her. “Did you think all I wanted was a quick screw?” He bit her earlobe as he thrust hard against her bottom. “If that’s what I wanted, I would have fucked you against the wall this afternoon.” His tongue licked over the small bite before he gently sucked on it. “Maybe we’ll try it against the wall anyway. It sounds like fun.” The hand on top of her mons rubbed a little harder, awakening another little flicker of sensation from her clit. Her body shivered but her bottom lifted for his next thrust, her pussy making a small, wet sound as it was penetrated. “Tonight we’ll just enjoy making sure all my planning doesn’t go to waste. Those candles should burn for hours.” She gasped, her eyes shooting over to the ones nearest the bed. Trace closed a hand around the curve of her hip, his body moving smoothly behind hers, never losing the rhythm. “You’re joking?” There was a hint of excitement in her tone that shocked her. But she stared at the candles. “No couple lasts that long. It’s not physically possible.” “Now you’re questioning my stamina?” He paused for a moment with his cock deep inside her. He tsked at her, his finger delving into the moist folds covering her clit. “Careful, sweet Princess, a man’s pride can demand retribution.” “Why are you still calling me that?” He pulled free and rolled her all the way over onto her belly. But he didn’t lie on top of her. The arm around her waist pulled her hips up until she was on her knees, her butt in the air. Trace clasped both hips in his hands as he plunged back into her. “Because it suits you. A princess is worthy of being seduced.” He moved behind her, driving his length deeply into her as he gripped her hips. “I want much more from you than one quick climax. More than release from the lust of the moment. Kim would have welcomed me between her thighs, but that wasn’t what I craved.” His words should have bothered her. Instead all she wanted to do was enjoy the feeling of his cock as it stroked her. She could never have imagined how good such a simple action might feel. It stole every thought from her brain, reducing her to a creature that existed only to feel. Right then, all she wanted to do was lift for his next thrust and feel this hard flesh inside her.
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“I can’t believe you’re talking about another woman while you’re…with me.” She wanted to sound cross, tried to, but a breathless moan ruined the attempt. “You mean while I’m fucking you?” He sent his next thrust into her faster and a gasp got past her lips as pleasure rippled up into her belly. He leaned down, his chest connecting with her back, one hand stroking over her belly and back towards her clit. She shivered with anticipation this time, the little sensitive nub quivering. “I’m giving you a huge advantage by confessing that to you. No other woman has ever held such a hold over me. Kim laughed at me.” “She did?” His hand found her clit, gently moving the folds of her sex aside. The first touch made her quiver and she lifted her bottom for his next thrust. Trace whispered next to her ear as his fingertip made lazy circles on the top of her clit. “Kim laughed because she felt how hard my cock was and I still told her no.” He thrust hard, moving the bed with the powerful motion. His voice turned rough with temper. “It isn’t polished or the sort of thing you’ll hear in romantic settings but it’s the highest form of praise I’ve ever given a woman. I wanted to get inside you, not Kim. I wanted to fuck my princess.” He straightened back up, his hands returning to her hips to secure her in place. His hold was strangely exciting. As much as she detested the idea, she enjoyed feeling his strength and even his demands. “You’re arrogant.” Need was building inside her again. Each plunge of his length sending pleasure along her spine. Her heart was racing, making her skin hot and flushed. “That’s the part you like the most about me. I want you and I told you so. I don’t beg, baby, I command.” She wanted to argue with him but her body told her to drop it. The only thing that mattered was the building tension inside her. A moan brushed past her lips and then another one. She pushed back against his thrusts, needing more, but with him behind her there wasn’t enough friction to push her into another climax. He knew it too. He was waiting for her to voice the need once more. “I’m not going to beg.” A strangled snarl left her lips as she bucked, frustration making her angry. Trace caught her and rolled back onto the bed, taking her along with him. His arms clamped tightly around her, keeping her clasped on top of his larger body. He rolled again, placing her beneath him on her back. He pressed down, letting his more of his body weight onto her until she stopped struggling. Hissing with temper, she glared at him, freezing when she looked into his eyes. There was hard determination in them. The sort she’d never witnessed before. It was almost humbling to see it aimed at her because she’d never been so important, so all encompassing to any man. At that moment she was Trace’s sole target and she shivered as she recognized just how intent he was on having her. 86
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“Then demand me, Princess.” He framed her face, lowering his head until their lips were a mere breath apart. “Tell me to feed your needs.” His cock was pressing against the opening of her pussy, waiting for her to comply. Need was twisting along her body. Knowing how good release felt, she wasn’t able to deny herself the pleasure. Reaching for his hips, she dug her fingers into them as she stared back into his eyes. “Fuck me.” The bed shook as he pressed deep into her. It groaned beneath the powerful motions of its master but Mia moved just as determinedly, her body lifting and straining towards her lover. He was right, what she really craved was a partner. Pleasure centered under the driving thrusts of his cock as she let her eyes close so that all she did was feel. Climax didn’t wait very long before it tore through her. Her voice hit the ceiling as pleasure spun her around in a dizzy circle of delight and rapture. Trace rode her, his cock feeling larger as he growled and bucked between her thighs. He drove his last few thrusts harder against her before his entire body shuddered and he caught his weight on his elbows just before he landed on her. His heart was hammering inside his chest, so fast she felt it against her breasts while his breath rasped near her ear. Her own was rapid and shallow as she tried to keep from just letting go and allowing sweet slumber to wash over her sated flesh. Soft fingers brushed along her jawline before Trace moved, rolling onto his back. He hooked her body, taking her with him, pressing her head down onto his chest. His hands stroked along her shoulder and hip. It was the sweetest touch and the perfect ending. Her body slipped into sleep as contentedly as a babe. He was going to hell. But he wasn’t sorry. He’d known full well that he’d been on his way to eternal damnation for two decades. When you were young and stupid, a lifestyle set on the path to ruin appealed to you. Fucking a virgin wasn’t what he’d considered the nail in his coffin until tonight. He’d done a lot worse than screw for the wrong reasons. Lust wasn’t the worst of his transgressions, not by a long shot. At the moment, he didn’t care if his sins were mounting up—having Mia snuggled up against him was worth it. Shock hit him in the gut as he considered just how much he enjoyed the feel of her body against his, the soft beat of her heart against his side and the way she nuzzled against his chest. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He could sleep plenty on a thousand nights when he was alone again. It didn’t have to be that way… The random thought actually scared him. But it bit into his mind, refusing to be banished. Ramos already thought she belonged to him, so keeping her wouldn’t be so hard. Thinking about it was sweetly intoxicating with ideas of home and family. It
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wasn’t a place he allowed his mind to wander often. Maybe it had been too long since his last mental fantasy and that was why he’d given in to the need to touch her. It didn’t matter. Stroking her hip, he let his eyes close. Without sight, he felt every inch of where their skin met. Her soft breath teased his chest hair as his cock finally lay satisfied. For the moment, nothing mattered but them. Letting his mind shut down, he relaxed, a smile curving his lips. If he was damned for touching an angel…at least he would savor the moment.
***** Something teased her nose. Mia reached up to rub it away and jumped when her hands touched the warm skin of another person. Her eyes flew open as she sat up. A second later Trace flipped over, flattening her to the bed surface, one hard forearm lodged against her throat. His eyes focused on her face and she was freed instantly while he cussed in Russian. “I’m sorry.” Another phrase rolled past his lips as his hands glided over her neck searching for injury. “You didn’t hurt me.” She might as well have saved her breath. Trace ignored her attempts to shrug off his hands. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was sound asleep.” A smile twitched at her lips, one that refused to be hidden. Mia lowered her face to conceal it but a firm hand cupped her chin, bringing her face back into the line of his eyes. Creases appeared between his eyebrows as he stared at the expression. “How in the hell can you be happy about being jumped like that?” She shrugged, uneasy with laying her emotions out for him. She suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. But she just couldn’t banish the warm glow that spread through her. The surprise on his face was genuine. He was just as shocked to discover her in bed with him as she was to wake up in his embrace. He hadn’t lied to seduce her, she really was the only woman he’d brought to this bed. “I’m just not scared, that’s all.” A shiver rippled down her arm as the chill of the night stole the last of the warmth from her now that she was no longer lying against Trace’s warm body. His eyes told her that he didn’t believe her but they shifted to the goose bumps rising over her skin. “That’s sure not the first time I’ve been thrown.” “This isn’t your brother’s studio.” She frowned because she missed her family but there was no point in complaining so she ducked her chin to avoid letting Trace see the pain. He grunted softly. “This is about as far from your brother’s studio as it gets. You’re avoiding the question, Princess. Trust me, it won’t work on me.”
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“You mean because you conceal your own emotions so often, you know how to spot it in another person?” Her lips rose into another smile as she stared at him. His dark eyebrows lowered as her words sank in, his lips pressing into a hard line. “Touché.” He stood up, moving around the bed. She got caught up in watching the way he moved, completely confident in nothing but skin. But it was a fine body to view, no doubt about it. Every inch of him was sculpted with hard muscle. Even if a girl didn’t necessarily enjoy a bulky man, she had to admire the hours of work that went into Trace’s powerful shoulders. The heavily muscled expanse spoke of hours of lifting weights. To have the ridges showing meant he was doing enough cardio training to keep his body fat percentage low. No one had a body like that without earning it with sweat. Lots of it. “Your eyes are dangerous, Mia.” His voice was smoky with temptation. He rounded the foot of the bed and her eyes dropped below his waist. She just couldn’t stop herself from looking at his cock. A little quiver raced through her belly as she found it standing away from his body, the head crimson. “I swear I’ve met courtesans that don’t turn me on as fast as you do with those eyes.” “Like Kim?” He stopped in front of her, trailing one fingertip along her jawline. The single touch sent a tiny flame of heat across her skin. His eyebrows lowered but he didn’t look away to hide his true feelings. “Kim and others like her have their place. Don’t be too hard on her. She placed herself in the line of fire for you.” “Actually for you, but I’m not ignorant of the fact that she was helping me out by doing what you asked her to. But she would not have helped me if you weren’t involved.” “That humble streak of yours gets frustrating.” Mia smiled at him. “It’s who I am. I don’t take compliments that aren’t mine. Kim is someone I should thank but she is doing a favor for you.” And she suddenly wondered if he would have helped her if he wasn’t interested in having sex with her. Had she simply been paying a debt in his bed? Her emotions boiled dangerously, confusing her with their strength. Shifting her eyes away from his, she went to get off the bed. Trace caught her, clamping her against his body as she wriggled to avoid his embrace. He tsked under his breath at her, holding her firmly. “I don’t take my payment in sex. I can get women anytime I want them.” He gripped her nape so that their eyes met. “Dack placed me on this job but believe me, I’m still here because I want to be. I could have handed you off to Rowan or even the local
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cops and I would have if all I needed was to get laid. In fact, it would have been a lot simpler to cut you loose to get laid.” “Why didn’t you?” She shouldn’t have asked the question but just couldn’t stop herself. He frowned, the fingers cupping her neck gently kneading the tense muscles. “I told you, you’ve enchanted me. I’ll probably end up dead on the rocks at your feet for it but I’ve lost the battle to keep my hands off you.” “You could have left me with Rowan. You can’t touch what isn’t within your reach. If you want to avoid candy, don’t have it in your house.” His cock twitched against her belly. Her face heated as she felt how hot and hard it was. Something dangerous flashed across his eyes. “No.” He didn’t elaborate but scooped her up and strode across the room. All the plush details were a blur as he bore her towards an arched doorway at the back of the room. “No…what?” He angled his face down to stare at her. “Just…no. You’re not leaving. I will take care of you and deal with the consequences.” “How flattering. That makes it sound like I’m a bad habit.” His lips twitched slightly. “I’ve managed to avoid it until I met you.” A strangled sound escaped her lips as she aimed a slap at his shoulder. His lips remained in an arrogant smirk but there was a glitter of boyish amusement in his eyes that touched her heart. Trace didn’t laugh enough, she decided. The emotion looked good on him. More candles flickered in the bathroom. The dancing light beams reflected off the mirrors, casting an almost a magical aura over them as Trace sat her on the edge of a full-size Jacuzzi. The tile edge was cold but she could feel the heat rising from the water brushing against her bare thigh. She was far too close to his cock again, her attention shifting to it without any thought. A wicked idea took root in her brain as she stared at the swollen head. She was just a little tired of him being so commanding. Finding herself dumped into the role of helpless person in need was really chafing. She wanted to be the one overwhelming him. “Maybe I’ll be the one to take care of you.” Reaching up, she fingered his cock, slipping her hand all the way around it. She heard him suck in his breath through gritted teeth. The sound made her smile because it was exactly what she wanted. Solid proof that she was affecting him too. “Maybe I’m tired of being taken care of.” Slipping her hand around the head of his cock, she closed her hand to gently grip its girth. Pushing her closed hand down his length she let her gaze lower to it. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth. She wanted to taste him, tease him just as he had her. It was burning a hole in her brain, the need to command his body as completely as he’d done to her.
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Licking across the slit on the top of the head, she trailed her tongue around the ridge of flesh that circled it. Pulling her hand back to the top, she pumped it back down to the base as she took the head inside her mouth. Another hiss of breath stroked her confidence. “And you ask why I’m not interested in letting Rowan take you off my hands.” His hands threaded through her hair as his hips gave a twitch towards her mouth. “Not a chance in hell.” He growled his last few words as his hips thrust forward again. Allowing her jaw to relax, she took more of his length between her lips. Flicking her tongue around it, she was rewarded by a slight tightening of his hand in her hair. Each little motion or rasp of his breath excited her further. Working her hand, she pumped it up and down the part that she couldn’t take inside her mouth. Sucking harder, she discovered that he liked the spot directly beneath the head played with the most. Applying her tongue to that area, she set about driving him insane. His hips were thrusting forward in sharp, jerky motions as she pumped his cock. Sweet, salty cum was leaking from the slit now in tiny amounts as she heard his breathing become labored. The hand in her hair suddenly tightened as he pulled his cock free. She hissed as he held her lips away from his swollen flesh but she wasn’t giving up so easily. Pulling her closed hand up to the head, she pumped it faster, her fingers slipping smoothly now that they were wet. He growled low and deep but couldn’t escape the stimulus. His hips thrust his cock forward as the hand in her hair lost its strength. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she sucked the head back into her mouth. A harsh grunt passed his lips as hot fluid flooded her mouth. Satisfaction filled her as she continued to suck and lick every jerky spurt away. “Goddamn it.” He braced a hand on the wall as his legs quivered. Pulling her mouth free, she stroked his cock a few final times. Looking up, she watched his face. His expression was unguarded now, pleasure still drawing the features tight. It was so male it made her confidence swell. His eyelids lifted to show her his dark blue eyes. Just a slit but they glittered at her as his lips pressed into a tight line. Disapproval shone in those eyes but it couldn’t take away from the satisfaction she saw on his face. “Don’t look so smug, Princess.” Smiling brighter, she toyed with the sac hanging beneath his cock, teasing it with her fingertips. He hissed softly at her before reaching down and hooking her with both hands beneath her armpits. A second later she was clamped against his chest, her head higher than his. His eyes were full of determination now, glittering with promise. “Like I said, you’re an enchantress. But I’m not without my own talents.” He let her slide down so that their faces were level with each other. “I’m going to enjoy returning the favor.”
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Chapter Seven Her belly tightened. Excitement clamped down on her so hard, she saw spots for a moment. A kaleidoscope of multicolored lights dancing around her head. But a phone buzzed in the other room, shattering the moment. Trace frowned, indecision covering his face. He muttered in Russian before lowering her gently into the warm water. “I’ve got to check that. No one would ring that phone tonight without a good reason.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, sending heat to her lips as she watched male enjoyment cover his face. “They know I’m busy. Soak for a bit, honey, ease the ache.” That fast she was blushing again, reduced to feeling awkward in the presence of his experience. Trace turned and moved across the floor. He disappeared into the outer room as she sank down, letting the warm water cover her. She did ache but didn’t enjoy having it pointed out that he knew she did. It was a silly thing to be uptight about but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling exposed. It hadn’t hurt as much as she’d heard a first time would but she’d been so needy she doubted she’d have noticed anything but finally getting what she’d been craving since meeting the man. His cock wasn’t small either. Cambria was a wild child if ever there was one and she’d taken Mia to a few adult toy stores. Trace was packing a major package, as her friend might term it. She looked down at the water, the steam beckoning to her. With a sniff of displeasure she stepped out of the Jacuzzi, leaving its soothing heat behind, and turned on the shower. She reached for the soap, wrinkling her nose at the masculine scent. But a little wave of happiness went through her as she discovered another bit of evidence that supported the fact that she was the only woman who had been brought here. She set the soap back in its dish, not wanting to smell like Old Spice without even taking a moment to look for an alternative. A small lavender basket was sitting on the counter top next to the sink. The color alone hinted at it being feminine. Peering into it, she found a box of soap that her skin would like much better. Along with the soap there was a small bottle of shampoo and conditioner. A new toothbrush and small sample-sized containers of every skin care product she used. There was even makeup. Trace had cleverly planned her seduction down to the last detail. She wouldn’t be seen scurrying across the hallway, her hair a rat’s nest from the night. That wasn’t a promise of commitment. She had to remind herself of that. Stepping into the shower, she let the water rinse his scent off her skin. It couldn’t touch the ache that was inside her passage but she didn’t really want to lose that just 92
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yet. Finishing her quick shower, she turned the water off and left the stall. The Jacuzzi was set into the floor with a knee-high border, but it also had a set of steps in the center so that you didn’t need to climb over anything to get into the water. The engineer had cleverly dug deeper to set the pool lower than the rest of the bathroom. Of course it must have cost a fortune to have such a bathroom and to keep the water hot. Moving down into it, she sighed as it rose to her collarbones. The ends of her hair floated on the surface of the water. She frowned but wasn’t willing to leave the decadent tub in order to find something to pin her hair up with. One hot water encounter wouldn’t frazzle it. But if she spent any more nights in the master suite, she’d need some hair pins. Music still played softly in the background. The hot water was soothing, tempting her to close her eyes and slip back into its embrace. She lingered for a long time, not thinking, only relaxing. The jets timed out, disturbing the tranquility. She looked at the controls but didn’t reset the timer. Mia forced her legs to walk back out of the tub. A thick terry-cloth robe hung from a hanger near the closet. It wasn’t Trace’s. One look at the garment and she knew it was too small to fit his wide shoulders. A peek inside at the tag confirmed her suspicions. It was an extra small and clearly another detail neatly arranged for her seduction. A little zip of emotion went through her. She couldn’t stop it and didn’t really want to. It did excite her to know that a man like Trace had planned her seduction. Right, wrong…she couldn’t decide where it belonged. The only thing she really understood was the fact that she knew how she felt. Tying the cloth belt to keep the robe closed, she walked back into the master suite. She froze as she looked across the candlelit room at Jae’s shoulders. He was facing the door, standing firmly in position. His eyes were focused on the far wall and her face flushed as she recognized why. He expected her to be nude or at least unpresentable for anyone except her lover. Mia didn’t make a sound but his shoulders flinched, just the smallest amount before he turned his head to look over his shoulder. His mouth was pressed into a hard line as he aimed his eyes at her, almost as though he’d turned without realizing. As though it were instinct. “My apologies.” He turned fully, offering her a short bow. “I’m sorry to invade your privacy but Trace will explain the need when he returns.” Stepping further into the room, she noticed the slim microphone running along Jae’s jaw. It was connected to an earpiece. He wasn’t wearing his apron now and his button front shirt was rolled up to mid forearm. The gun was more prominent now, in clear sight clipped to his waistband. “Trace took the liberty of ordering you something from the kitchen.” “Thank you.” She looked at the tray sitting on the low table in front of a glass-front fireplace but wasn’t hungry. She moved over to it anyway because she was at a complete loss as to what to else to do. Jae looked around the room, scanning it
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completely but didn’t relax. The man was on duty, guarding her, and her stomach knotted up as she curled up on one side of the sofa. “What is going on?” She didn’t think she could wait for Trace to explain it to her. The tension was like acid eating away at her belly. She could feel it all around her as thick as the first time she’d awoken in the persimmon room. Jae frowned at her. “Trace should explain.” “Except he isn’t here and this is about me. Isn’t it?” Jae only pressed his lips into a tighter line, his eyes sweeping the room once again before returning to her. “Someone broke into Kim’s suite. I’m here merely as a precaution. You shouldn’t worry.” “Like hell.” She didn’t want to keep the words behind any practiced façade. Pointing a single finger at Jae, she stared straight at him. “If you think I’m just going to sit here quietly while you and Trace deal with all the…whatever is going on…you’re wrong. I want to know who this person is. Is he the same one…this Ramos?” Her voice rose with her last few words. The tone was fueled by her rising tension. The name actually felt dirty on her tongue. “That’s right, Princess.” Turning her head, she stared at Trace. He emerged from the bathroom, instantly recalling to her mind the fact that there was most likely an exit in the closet just as there was in the persimmon room. “His name is Raul Ramos. I’m not surprised you recall it from the morning his men chased you out of your office. You were sharp and fast on the uptake. Any panic and you’d have been found dead with Karen.” “Thanks for the timely rescue, Cap.” Jae’s lips were twitching upward now as he offered her a nod before turning to let himself out of the room. A tingle of anticipation went through her as she listened to the soft sound of the door closing behind him. She was alone with Trace again, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, and Jae knew it too. “I do remember that name but I know little else about him.” Trace moved past her, completely clothed in business slacks and a button-front shirt. He knelt in front of the fireplace and reached for the silver key that fit into the gas control. Fitting it into the wall lock, he turned it, allowing more fuel to flow. The flames doubled in size, braising her cheeks with heat. “There’s not much to tell you, as frustrating as that is. Ramos called me earlier so I wasn’t expecting him to try anything. I figured he’d vented his spleen.” Trace stood up, his powerful body looming over her and making her feel petite. “I was wrong.” His eyes surveyed her, his face unreadable. “He took the bait we laid out, following Kim as I wanted. That’s not good news, in case you think it is.” “Of course it isn’t, because that means he hasn’t moved on to another way to get at your friend Dack.”
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A small smile raised the corners of his lips. “And he thinks you belong to me.” The smile faded as his eyes dropped to the knot holding her robe closed. “Which is true.” There was a flare of satisfaction in his eyes that was almost ominous. “Dack is planning to go to court to fight his dishonorable discharge. Ramos wants that stopped and he’s willing to do anything to ensure that I help him convince Dack to leave the matter alone.” “Don’t you dare do anything that murderer wants.” Trace laughed, the sound soft and menacing. “I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you, baby.” She blushed as his gaze moved slowly down her length. Heat flickered along her limbs, her lower lip turning dry with anticipation. He sat down on one of the loveseats, his feet shoulder width apart. His attention remained on her, hunger drawing his features tight. “Strip for me.” His voice was husky with need. “Do it slowly…tease me.” With only a bathrobe, it wouldn’t take very long but the idea was still potent. He picked up a remote lying on the side table and the music changed. The volume rose along with the tempo before he laid the remote back down. “Do the job right and I’ll make sure you get a good reward.” Turning her back on him, she looked over her shoulder. “Do you talk dirty to me on purpose?” His lips parted in an arrogant grin. “Hmm, as I suspected. You are a naughty boy.” Letting her hips pick up the beat from the music, she rocked them from side to side before moving in a slow circle all the way around. “Naughty boys shouldn’t get what they want.” “Unless you have a liking for my brand of mischief.” Trace raised an eyebrow. “Applied to your sweet body, you might enjoy it very personally.” Pulling the knot out of the tie, Mia extended it past her body on both sides keeping her hips moving. The robe fell open as she let the tie fall to the floor. Shrugging the robe off her shoulders, she cast another look at her lover as the fabric bared her back. Catching it on her elbows, she turned with a slow motion of hips. “Half my customers would kill to be right here.” “I doubt it.” She had never been popular. Even with her wardrobe of miniskirts and fuck-me pumps. “Don’t.” It was a single-word command. Trace lifted a hand, crocking a finger at her. “Come here.” Turning to face him, she caught the open robe in front of her, the terrycloth draping down to cover the center of her body. “That was a very short dance. I doubt it will have earned very much of a reward.”
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“I have a short attention span for anything that involves me waiting to get back inside you.” “You don’t strike me as a man ruled by the flesh.” Releasing the robe, Mia watched the way his jaw tightened. “With you, all I think about is my cock and how soon I can sink it back into you.” He chuckled softly. “That should have shocked you, Princess.” With a half smile, Mia moved closer to him. “Maybe I’m a bad girl. You should run away before I seduce you with my bad habits.” “Promise?” He looked hungry, like a boy watching someone scoop ice cream onto a cone. His eyes roaming over her bare body were brightened by greed. “Touch yourself.” His voice was harsh with anticipation and it fueled her growing confidence. He might be the one commanding her actions but she was the one controlling him by performing. Trailing a fingertip beneath her breasts, she offered him an innocent look. “Like this?” She moved up to the swell of one breast and across the nipple. “Lick your finger and touch your nipple.” Both tender points tingled in response to his command. Her hand was already moving to her mouth before she thought about it. “Suck on it.” His voice was hard, betraying how much watching her turned him on. She licked it first, beginning at the base and running her tongue all the way to the tip before opening her mouth to take it inside. His eyes were slaves to her, following her every motion. His chest was rising faster as she pulled her finger free. It glistened in the candlelight as she touched it to one puckered nipple. A shiver raced down her spine as the fluid transferred. “Now pinch it.” Closing her thumb around the point, she applied pressure. “Harder and hold it until I tell you to stop.” A tiny gasp passed her lips as she did it, sensation running along her skin. “Release.” Pleasure blossomed through her breast as she let her nipple go. Surprise crossed her face as satisfaction filled his eyes. “Step up onto the footrest.” Indecision filled her as she looked at the footrest. Instead of a glass coffee table, this was an upholstered footrest as large as a coffee table. Stepping up onto it would make it possible for him to see her sex. The idea was as exciting as it was unsettling. “Do it, baby.” The husky note in his voice sent her foot up onto the padded surface. She rose above him as he watched her, hunger brightening his eyes. 96
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“Now turn around and show me that ass.” She turned in time with the music. A soft growl escaped his lips as she twitched her bottom from side to side. “That’s right, Princess, keep my attention.” Placing a palm on top of each side of her own bottom, she looked forward, heat flushing every inch of her skin. She rubbed her hand up and down over her cheeks staring at him while she touched herself. “Bend over and touch the top of the footrest.” She jerked her face back to look at him. “Do it. Show me your pussy.” The contrast between this man and the one who had seduced her among silk sheets was amazing but she found that it appealed to her too. He was touching that need buried inside her that sent her dancing among strangers, fulfilling that dark desire to be watched simply because she inspired lust. Leaning forward, she pressed her hands against the fabric. “Spread your feet, baby. Show me what I crave. Tease me with it. Let me see it glisten. My cock might burst if I know you’re wet for me.” Her face flushed red but her feet parted. The folds of her sex opened as she spread her feet far apart. She actually felt his gaze on her pussy. Heat speared up into her as she heard him breathing, the air rasping through clenched teeth. “Don’t move.” He stood up, walking around her, his steps silent. He slid a sure hand along one thigh and she jumped as sensation jolted through her. A soft, smug chuckle passed his lips as he moved around her. “Intense, isn’t it, Mia? Suddenly the idea of dominance and submission isn’t so hard to understand.” He stroked across one side of her bottom and she shivered. “I think I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to have you complying with my demands.” He kept walking around her in a slow pace that was maddening. Every inch of her skin wanted to be the next place he touched. All of her nerve endings popped with excitement. All the while, her open sex was acutely aware of how intense one stroke of his finger might be. He cupped a breast next, his hand hot against her skin. He tightened his fingers around the soft mound, teasing her nipple with his fingers. “Now lie down, with your back on the footrest.” Turning her head, she looked at him for a moment, trying to judge his mood. All she saw on his face was hunger and it struck her as the ultimate compliment. She wasn’t nervous, wasn’t squirming because her body was on display. There was a part of her that enjoyed knowing he wanted to look at her. Maybe that was wicked but she bent her knees and rolled onto her back as excitement raced along her bloodstream. She
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lifted her legs, crossed at the ankles, holding them straight up for a long moment before slowly parting them and allowing them to spread wide into a straddle split. Trace cussed in Russian. He trailed his fingers across her belly and the muscles quivered. He chuckled as he watched the physical response, smoothing his entire hand over her tummy, but it was her clit that begged for attention. “So sweetly inviting.” He toyed with the few curls she allowed to grow on her mons. Only a small patch, the rest of her sex shaved clean every day. “But I’m thinking anything but sweet ideas of what to do with you.” There was a dark promise lurking in his voice that drew her gaze to his face. He pushed one thick finger into her sex, rubbing over her clit as their eyes locked. Arrogant command flickered in his eyes as he moved his finger in stroking motions, in and out of her pussy. “I want to posses you and that means far more than the sex we had earlier.” He sounded like he was attempting to warn her off. She found it hilarious considering the fact that his finger was stroking her open sex. “I don’t scare that easily unless you’re looking for an easy way to get me out of your bedroom.” His jaw tightened at her words. “If I’m not practiced enough, you should just say so.” “Or instruct you.” She shivered in response, every muscle tightening. A dark grin lifted his lips as he leaned down, close enough for her to smell his skin. He pressed his finger into her body, penetrating her as his eyes held her prisoner. “There’re so many things about your body that I can teach you, Princess. The ideas are driving me half insane.” He pulled his finger free, rubbing it across her clit before he drew his hand completely away. “But the other half of me is rising to the challenge.” He straightened up, his eyes flickering with command. “Undress me.” Rolling over the edge of the footrest, she landed on her feet as light as a ninja. She watched him for a moment, hidden behind the large piece of furniture. He crooked a finger at her. “Come on, baby, class is in session.” “Maybe for you as well.” His eyes narrowed but she rose up, distracting him. His gaze centered on her breasts, hunger thinning his lips. Reaching up, she cupped her breasts, thumbing each nipple. “That really turns me on.” His eyes moved up to her face but didn’t remain there, his gaze traveled back down to her hands. “I’ve never been a watching sort of man, but I love seeing you touch yourself.”
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It was a confession. A dark secret from his soul. She was sure that he’d never told another woman something so intimate and for that reason it felt as tender as the moments he’d taken to arouse her before taking her virginity. “Do you masturbate?” Her cheeks turned scarlet at his question, her eyes bulging slightly. She knew the word but didn’t think she’d ever heard it spoken. A husky chuckle hit her ears. “Have you masturbated since meeting me, Princess?” He reached across the space between them to stroke one burning cheek with his fingers. “Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?” His voice dipped into a dark tone that mesmerized her. She lowered her chin as she answered, unable to disrupt the intimacy by withholding the answer. His eyes narrowed as a groan rose from his chest. “I didn’t think anything could be better than sucking you off but that just might be it.” “I can’t—” Her throat tightened up, sealing the rest of her words off. “Can’t masturbate in front of me?” He chuckled again. “Maybe we’ll have to work on your nerve.” “I’m not an exhibitionist.” Locking eyes with him, she struggled against the excitement the idea sent through her. “If that’s the sort of girl you like, maybe I should leave your bedroom.” His eyes darkened. He stepped right over the footrest in spite of how high it was. One hard arm clasped her to his body, holding her firmly. “You’re mine, Princess. The details, you’ll adjust to.” She glared at him, resenting his smug attitude. There were times the man was too sure of himself. Right now was one of them. Reaching down, she stroked his cock, pressing her open hand against its swollen length. His eyes narrowed as his jaw tightened so she rubbed his length a few more times. His body shook slightly as she whispered, “Maybe it’s time for you to start listening instead of doing all the talking. Maybe you should take your clothes off for me. If I like what I see, maybe I’ll reward you.” “You think so?” Mia raised her chin while stroking his cock again. “Unless you’re shy.” He chuckled, stepping away from her. He pulled his shirt off too quickly again, popping buttons off it. A practiced motion opened his waistband before he shucked his pants. His cock rose instantly, already swollen and erect. “No underwear. Should I be flattered or worried that you want to be ready any time you catch someone in a dark hallway?” “You should be worried that half my customers will hear you screaming when I make you come.” His cock twitched with his words. “Because it feels so damn good you can’t help but yell.” “Backing up that kind of boast will take a lot of effort.” 99
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And she wasn’t in the mood to have the tables turned back on her so quickly. It was her turn to stimulate him. Reaching out, she handled his cock, enjoying the smooth texture of his skin. She pressed her hand all the way to the base of it, toying with the sac hanging beneath it. “I suddenly notice advantages to agreeing with you.” His eyes were mere slits as she moved closer, closing her fingers around his girth. Bending her knees, she slid down his body slowly. His chin lowered so that he could watch her as she allowed her lips to hover over his cock head. His mouth opened, showing her gritted teeth, but she only rubbed her thumb over the eye on top of his cock. “Suck me.” His voice was raspy and full of the same desperate need he often ignited in her. Opening her lips she took half his cock into her mouth, using her hand to stroke the remaining length. She didn’t tease him but tried to overwhelm his defenses. “Christ.” His hips jerked, thrusting against her mouth. One hand captured her hair, gripping it as she lifted her head away and then returned to sheathe him. He gasped as she moved quickly, refusing to toy with him. There was nothing gentle about her mood, no remnants of the compliance that had seen her lying on display, obedient to his whim. Her patience was exhausted. She wanted to suck his cock hard and fast. Needed to move, to physically push him past control. The hand in her hair twisted as he thrust towards her. She let him penetrate farther into her mouth, taking more length as she flicked her tongue along the underside of his staff. “Not a chance, Princess.” He growled at her as he pulled her head away from his cock. “I’m not going to leave my cum in your mouth. Not this time.” He released her hair, turning to grab something off a side table. There was a crinkle of foil as she stood up to watch him sheathing his cock. “But I’ll be happy to let you fuck the hell out of me.” He sat down on the sofa, reaching forward to hook her around the waist. He pulled her right onto his lap, her thighs spreading over his. A surge of anticipation flooded her as she felt the tip of his cock beneath the opening to her body. His hands gripped her hips as his eyes glowed. “Ride me, baby. Show me that thing inside you that you never let out anywhere but on the dance floor.” She moaned as she took his cock deep inside her. Pleasure tore through more than just her pussy. She was driven by that urge to move that sent her dancing. Clasping him with her thighs, she rose and fell, pumping hard against the thick cock beneath her. Her breasts bounced, the hard nipples brushing against his crisp chest hair. Her heart worked faster and her lungs drew in deep breaths that brought the scent of his skin into her senses. It was euphoric, driving her further into instinct. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders as she held him in a hard grip.
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“That’s right, fuck me. Take what you want,” he said. She yelled at him because words just didn’t seem to be enough. He bucked beneath her, sending his cock harder and deeper into her. The hands on her hips gripped tight, keeping her above his pistoning hips. Sweat coated both of them and she cried out as pleasure tightened inside her. She moaned as her body began convulsing, pleasure wringing her like a dishrag. Her partner gasped, his voice deep and almost animalistic. He pushed her hips down, while bucking his cock up into her. The pleasure was so thick she forgot to breathe, her mind going blank as she felt his cock jerking inside her pussy. Everything became lost in a swirling storm of sensation and delight, the hard grip on her hips completing the moment. She collapsed onto his chest and listened to his heart hammering beneath her ear. His arms wrapped tightly around her, as though he was afraid she’d escape. There was nothing but secondary ripples of enjoyment moving through her as she let the sound of his heartbeat fill her head. He placed gentle kisses on the top of her head while smoothing a hand over her center back. His body was so warm, she snuggled her cheek against his chest. “You need some sleep.” He said it so easily. A little shaft of pain pierced her heart but she chastised her foolish heart for being so tender. Of course Trace was practiced in the art of parting company with lovers. That was only realistic. She lifted her body off his. “Goodnight.” Her voice sound far less polished. But at least it didn’t quiver. Trace huffed before standing up. He pulled a tissue from a box sitting on a side table and cleaned the condom off his cock with one quick motion. With a turn back to her, he scooped her off her feet without a sound. “It will be as soon as I tuck you into my bed.” “Wait—” Trace was already laying her in his bed by the time she spoke. He yanked the bedding up and over her before planting his hands on either side of the comforter, trapping her beneath it. “You sleep here.” He aimed a hard look at her before walking off to blow out most of the candles. They had burned low. As he extinguished each one, a thin taper of smoke rose from the wick. He turned the fireplace way down, so that only a glimmer of blue light remained. The darkness coated his bare frame and for a moment she wasn’t sure where the night and the man separated. He moved over to her, each stride showing off how powerful he was. The bed shook as he rolled into it. She shifted as he reached for her, pulling her against his warm body and smoothing her into his hold. She wanted to think but her brain simply refused. Her eyes closed as contentment washed over her and she snuggled against her lover.
*****
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Living underground had distinct advantages. One being that you didn’t wake up at dawn. At least until your internal clock did it for you. Trace watched Mia for a long time, her body curled up in his bed. He wasn’t used to sleeping for more than five hours at a time. A half smile covered his lips as he left to see to his work day. There was part of him that enjoyed knowing Mia would wake up in his bed, in his room. It was a possessive urge he couldn’t control and at the moment he didn’t want to. Princesses had that effect on men.
***** Mia stretched and yawned. Her eyes opened as soreness prickled through her passage. It was a blunt reminder of just what she’d done last night. The silk sheets beneath her back made her sit up. She cast a look around the male-decorated room. She hadn’t meant to sleep all night in his room. Her face heated as she recalled that Trace had. She frowned but couldn’t really work up any anger. Yes, he was arrogant but that was something she enjoyed. Getting mad about it would make her a hypocrite. Rolling out of the bed, she stood and walked to the shower. But there was one thing the man would have to do and that was give her something to do. Becoming his lover might work but she wasn’t going to be his kept woman. She didn’t linger in the shower because she was going to get to the kitchen before a tray arrived this morning. It was almost a point of honor to head off the service personnel. She had never been so lazy and it was a habit she needed to stop before it became a lifestyle. If for no other reason than it might help her feel that life was somewhat normal. She froze for a moment, looking at her face in the mirror. She was thinking about a future with Trace. That was foolish. She had to stop doing that before her heart got wrapped around the idea. A little tingle of pain went through her chest as she thought about walking out of the club one day. It frightened her to feel it because there was no talking herself out of the emotion. It wiggled and breathed inside her chest. There was no commanding it. With a huff she left the bathroom, smiling at the unmade bed. She exited the room and went back out into the entryway. She was halfway up the stairs before detecting the soft opening of a door behind her. But she pressed on, entering the club. A cleaning crew was working, the other doors open allowing the sun to shine in. Mia froze, staring at that sunlight, stunned that it shocked her so deeply. She’d never thought about being able to warm her face in the sun being something she didn’t dare do. She moved towards it, holding out a hand to touch it. Warm and bright, it illuminated her hand before Ivens cleared his throat. With a shrug of embarrassment, she turned and retraced her steps, heading to the kitchen. The second she caught a whiff of food, her belly rumbled, growling long and loud, surprising her.
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“Now I know we talked about you getting me busted by the boss man.” Jae brandished a carving knife at her but it lost some of its intimidation when she noticed the fresh basil sticking to the blade. “I’m here, looking for that best table, aren’t I?” Jae lowered the knife and she heard him chopping with it in ultraquick motions. Climbing up onto a stool, she looked over the counter top to see him working the long blade across wet stacks of herbs. “You might be trainable yet.” Her belly grumbled again and the knife froze. Jae tilted his head to look at her with disapproval. “You didn’t eat supper. I made that from my mother’s recipe.” Mia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Don’t over use the mother threat, I’ll become callous.” Jae’s face transformed, a smile lighting it up. “You’re too sweet to do that. You’re heart is too full of life.” “I’m not all that perfect.” Jae left the chopping and pulled a lid off a pot, thick steam rising from it. Lifting a ladle he filled a soup bowl. “Perfection is not something any of us gets to achieve in this lifetime. We can only try to improve each day.” He placed the bowl in front of her, turning around to fill a second one. He leaned against the counter with the soup in one hand, a spoon in the other. Mia slowly smiled, picking up her spoon as Jae’s dark eyes watched her intently. Their first conversation rose in her memory. Jae shook his head as she began eating, rolling his eyes, but there was happiness sparkling in them. One of those feel-good moments everyone enjoyed in spite of how corny it might be. She didn’t like to eat alone, even when in the kitchen. It felt too much like being fed. “Trace is lucky to have you cooking here.” Jae offered her a half bow. “It’s my hobby. Cooking. I have to play soldier-man just to burn off the calories.” “Is there a gym here?” “Third story. Top of the line.” Mia considered his words for a moment. “Is the lower living space considered the first floor?” Jae’s lips twitched in admiration. “No. The floor above us is living quarters and a few offices. The gym is above that.” The club was more interesting by the moment because it was home to many of the men who ran it. They didn’t seem to have families or lives beyond its shadowy realm. That touched her heart with sadness because Jae was a man who had a lot to offer. “Oh, don’t get that look. My grandmother gives it to me often enough. Have some mercy.”
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“Or you’ll over-salt my lunch?” Jae reached up onto a stainless steel shelf and retrieved a plastic container of sea salt. He shook it from side to side so that the crystals clicked against the sides of the container. “And that will be for starters. I’m sure I’ve got an aphrodisiac in here somewhere.” Her face flushed as her eyes shut in momentary shame. She heard the cook chuckle as she lifted her eyelids and shot him an annoyed glare. Jae smirked at her, whistling softly. “That’s the drawback of large families,” said Mia, “everyone pokes their finger in your personal business.” Jae only smiled from ear to ear. With a scoff, Mia headed for the door, unable to truly work up any ire. Jae reminded her too much of her brothers for that. Yes, she’d spent the night with Trace and it only stood to reason that every man working at the Play Yard would know it. Hopefully all the women would hear it too and that way they’d keep their hands off her lover… As impulsive and presumptuous as it might be, it was still every bit as true. When it came to Trace, she wasn’t a sharing sort of woman. She walked back into the club but now a deliveryman was near the bar, a dolly stacked with cases of liquor. Two new faces were standing with Trace as they checked the invoice against the number of cases coming in. Moving closer, Mia plucked one invoice from where it was tucked into a packing strap. She meant to hand it over to Trace when he looked up but got distracted by the amount. Her eyes were adding up columns without even thinking about it. She snorted, frowning at the sum. “Problem?” Startled, Mia looked up to find Trace and his employees watching her. Extending the invoice at him she shrugged. “No problem if you don’t mind paying eight percent more for the same brand.” The deliveryman glared at her but Mia knew a thing or two about running a business designed to pamper its clients. “Samson Wholesaler’s line items five of those liquors at least eight percent below what you are charging and that is only what I have memorized.” The deliveryman suddenly lost a lot of his intimidating posture. Mia shot Trace a hard look. “I’ve spent the last seven years keeping books on my gym and that includes a full bar. He’s overcharging you. Plus there’s an error on the whisky. That case has only twenty two bottles in it and the invoice is charging you for twenty four. It’s a popular one among some of my costumers.” Trace’s face remained set in his all-business mask but there was a gleam in his eyes that she noticed. “Is that a fact.” It wasn’t a question but more of a comment. One that didn’t promise the deliveryman any hope.
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“It’s just a little typo. No problem to clear it up.” “Eight percent on an account this large is no problem?” Mia scoffed at the man, refusing to quiver in the face of his disgruntlement. “I’m not easy to intimidate. I can name three companies that will deliver the same product for less and without a service fee.” Reaching for the other invoices, she scanned them, her eyes plucking out discrepancies. Her temper rose as she found several costly ones. “And that case of sherry is marked ‘B’ quality. You are charging for first quality. Does this establishment look second-class to you?” She crumpled the edges of the invoices because she was so annoyed with the overcharges. “I have an eight-year-old cousin who can add better than this. But you’ve done a really good job of mixing it up to confuse your costumer. None of these columns line up and there are charges scattered all over the page that aren’t followed by their descriptions. No computer program does that, you have to go in and change the settings.” “Is that a fact.” This time Trace sounded angry. There was solid steel in his tone and the deliveryman shifted from side to side. “Hey look, we’ve been doing business for years. You can trust me. I always bring you what you need.” “But at inflated prices.” Mia stepped into the conversation, unwilling to let it go. She turned her attention onto Trace. “I can give you the number of the supplier I use at the gym and they will have everything you need here inside of three hours for a much better price and the invoice will be legible.” “You can’t listen to her. What does a woman know about stocking a bar?” Mia turned on him, one finger pointing at him. “Plenty. What’s more, I know what an invoice should look like. You’re nothing but a rip-off artist.” The deliveryman glared at her, hate glittering in his eyes but it still didn’t intimidate her. She ran an exclusive gym and this guy wasn’t the first one who thought he could smooth her over while gouging the profit line. “That’s good enough for me.” Trace stepped around the bar. “Take your load and leave.” “What? You ordered this. You can’t just leave me with it.” Trace’s expression was icy. “I certainly can and you’d better clear off my property before I turn you in for selling lower grade than listed.” The deliveryman looked ready to argue but the two men who had been helping Trace came around the bar, their arms away from their bodies, ready for action. Mia suddenly felt a little nervous. Trace just might not be the sort of man who liked a woman telling him what to do. “Fine, listen to your whore.” The deliveryman sneered at her.
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Trace cleared his throat loudly. When the man turned to look at him, Trace sent a solid right cross at his face that connected with a loud smack. The man twisted around and stumbled to one knee. “You obviously need glasses because you don’t know what a quality woman looks like.” The deliveryman spat on the floor. “Any woman who hangs out in this place is nothing but a high-class whore. She ain’t wearing no ring.” Ivens gripped the man by one arm, twisting his wrist at a ninety-degree angle. “Time for you to leave.” Ivens frog-marched the deliveryman across the club as one of the men beside Trace pushed the unaccepted load of liquor towards the front door. Trace watched with hooded eyes as he cupped a hand around his fist. He suddenly turned to look at her, his face pensive. “Would you wear my ring?” The question stunned her. She frowned. “Don’t play that game with me.” “I assure you, it’s not a game.” Pulling a deep breath into her lungs, she fought off tears. “Asking me like that is. You get to know my deepest feelings but didn’t really ask me for anything. I’m the only one who places their feelings on display.” A gleam entered his eyes. “Very astute, Princess.” “Besides, you can’t be serious. You’re just mad because he called me that. You shouldn’t get angry.” “Why not? Because we slept together last night?” Trace faced her, his body looking huge. “It’s all right for him to call you a whore because in some corner of your mind you think it’s deserved?” “I didn’t say that.” “But you didn’t answer my question either.” He frowned, his gaze moving over her face. Something flickered in his eyes that looked like need. “I’ve never hit a man over a woman before in my life.” It was an admission that touched her heart. A tear escaped her eyes, trickling down her cheek. A warm male hand reached up and wiped it away. “I wanted to beat him. Kick his ass for laying that word on you, Princess.” Trace drew a stiff breath in before he backed up a step. “But you have a job to do before we dig any deeper into why I feel that way. Since you know the ropes of the position, it’s yours.” He watched her, waiting to see what her first reaction was. Pride lifted her chin as she squared her shoulders. “I do know how to do it. You can ask your friend Dack. He put me in the managerial slot because he was smart enough to notice who was really running my gym.
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“Dack’s the best. Just another reason Ramos wants him scared into keeping his mouth shut.” A tingle of pain touched her heart because she felt so trapped. Ramos was quickly becoming someone she might actually be able to hate. It was an emotion she’d been taught to avoid because it was destructive. The memory of Karen lying on the floor of her office rose up to silence her wisdom. She hated that man no matter the consequences. “I didn’t mean to take over, but he was ripping you off and it made me mad.” “I could definitely learn to appreciate that temper. A lot.” His eyes brightened with heat and her cheeks blushed again. Last night’s passion had certainly shown her a use for temper she’d never thought about before. Just the memory of riding him, taking what she wanted, made her clit throb with need. “My accountant got called up for active duty three months ago. I’d guess that was when that joker got the idea to mess with the invoices. I was wondering why the books were running strange. I hadn’t been able to pinpoint the department that was leaking revenue.” Trace’s attention dropped to her chest and she swallowed hard as she realized that her nipples had drawn tight. Their hard peaks were poking through her shirt, confessing what she was thinking about to his keen stare. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her closer to him with a steady hand. His breath brushed her ear as her breasts flattened against his hard chest. “Keep looking at me like that, Princess, and you might end up wearing my ring because my child is growing inside you.” He bit her neck when she tried to push away, the tiny nip heightening her desire. “I don’t have a condom in my pocket and seeing your hard nipples makes me want to put your back against the wall in the closet. No waiting, no running downstairs to find a rubber. Just hard, immediate penetration.” She quivered. Her temper rose because she shouldn’t have enjoyed his words, shouldn’t be turned on by such carnal demands. But she was. Heat was flowing through her veins like lava. Her clothing was suddenly too tight and constricting, bugging the hell out of her as if it was a hundred degrees. “I felt that shiver, Princess.” Tipping her head back, she locked stares with him. He sucked in his breath, his hands moving to frame her face. “I want to, you know that? I want to take the chance and hope you conceive.” She was free a moment later, Trace watching her face for her first reaction to his words. Her mouth went dry and her eyes felt glassy. She was surprised and complimented because a man like him was worthy of children. Her heart offered that emotional
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response and he read it off her face. But a ripple of pain tore through her too. Her family had spent so much time trying to help her find a man she might accept a ring from and they were so far away. She felt lonely, like half of her body had been cut away. Trace retreated behind a tightly controlled mask as he watched her. “It’s not personal, Trace, I just miss my family.” She moved towards the bar, looking for a pen to write with. Raising her head, she looked at him again. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful for your protection.” He cussed in Russian. A hard hand cupped her jaw, bringing their eyes back into contact. “This isn’t about how we ended up together, Princess.” He turned and left, his legs moving fast. His entire body was stiff and another tear escaped her eye. A chill ran over her skin, an impulse to follow him so strong, she had to clench her hand around the edge of the bar to keep herself from running after him. He hadn’t asked her to stay with him or wear his ring. She couldn’t assume that last night meant he cared for her as much as she feared she was beginning to care about him. But she wanted to.
***** A few hours later she wanted a nap. The club seemed to exist in an alternate universe because time moved differently. She had never been a nap person, even as a child, but with the club open until the early morning hours, she was feeling worn out halfway through the day. She frowned as she made her way down the stairs into the hallway. Neither Ivens nor Bulosan were anywhere in sight. At least one of the burly security men had always been watching her the entire time she worked on getting the bars stocked, the weight of their stares becoming comfortable. Now, the nape of her neck prickled as she stopped halfway to the persimmon room. Her teeth went into her lower lip as she looked down at the doorknob because she didn’t want to return to sleeping alone. Indecision kept her standing halfway between both rooms. “I couldn’t agree more.” Hard arms encircled her, drawing her against Trace, his warm breath hitting her ear before he gently bit the lobe. “Although the idea of kidnapping you is delightful too. It’s almost too bad you stopped. Part of me was looking forward to dragging you back to my bed.” A soft gasp rose from her lips. Her mind played with the idea he’d voiced, making her nipples tingle with anticipation. There was something about knowing that he would chase her that excited her. Right or wrong didn’t enter the debate. It turned her on. He grasped one wrist and used it to turn her to face him. One eyebrow rose in question. “You encourage me, Princess. 108
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A naughty smile curved her lips. “I know I do. But that’s the thing that you like best about me.” His eyes closed to slits. “That’s a dangerous combination, Mia.” He lowered one shoulder and pushed it into her belly. She fell right over it as he straightened up, her hair flying into her eyes. “Trace…” Her voice sounded a little too breathless. A hard hand landed on her bottom and she squealed. “That’s not funny, Trace.” He moved towards the entrance to his room, not a hint of strain from carrying her. “I wasn’t trying to be funny, Princess.” The door chirped as he tapped in his code. His hand returned to her bottom, rubbing the cheek he’d smacked. “I was working on arousing you to tempt you back into my bed. Carrying you off like a prize works for me too.” The word prize sounded too good. Excitement ran through her as he opened the main door to his living space and kicked it closed with a heel. “I deserve a prize for letting you finish that order. It wasn’t easy.” He tossed her onto his bed, the frame rocking as she rolled over to face him on all fours. His hands were already opening his shirt, baring his chest to her eyes. Her hands curled into talons on the goose down comforter as she watched him from her cat-like pose. “Resisting the urge to drag you down here took every ounce of self-discipline I had.” He flung his shirt aside and reached for his belt. “I should be mad about your effect on me. It’s distracting.” “No one chooses who they’re attracted to.” Her voice was coated in the same hard acceptance as his. “But that doesn’t mean I’m angry at you for affecting me so deeply. What’s the point of living if you can’t feel your heart?” “My life isn’t a fit place for a princess like you.” He shucked his pants, baring his cock. A shaft of need went through her. This time it didn’t build by degrees—arousal bit into her hard, shaking her like a beast that had captured prey. “You belong some place where there aren’t men like Ramos.” The angry twist of his life made her heart tremble. Rising onto her knees, she reached for his face, sliding her hands over the worry creases, smoothing them away. “But you are here.” She offered him a kiss to show him how much she meant her words and pressed her mouth against his until she felt him take command of the kiss. His hands gripped her hips as his mouth pressed hers wide so that his tongue could tangle with hers. He pushed his hands beneath the soft waistband of her pants, sliding down against the nude skin of her bottom. At the same time, his other hand slid over her belly beneath her pants, his fingers delving into the folds of her sex. She broke their kiss as sensation speared up into her passage, her breathing growing rough as she stared into his eyes. Hunger flickered there as he found her clit, 109
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fingering it while he stroked her bottom, his fingers teasing the valley between the cheeks. “Even knowing that you’re too good for my life doesn’t prevent me from wanting you here. I want to possess you over and over until you admit that you can’t walk away from me.” He growled his last few words, sounding more dangerous than she’d ever heard him. Pulling his hands free, he pushed her back onto the bed, grabbing a pant leg in each hand as she bounced on the mattress. With a solid yank, her pants went sliding off and onto the floor. He leaned over her, capturing her panties before she gained enough balance to do anything about it. “No other man can command your body like I can.” The bed rocked as he landed on it, his shoulders pressing her thighs wide. He spread the lips of her sex open, leaning down to run the tip of his tongue along the center of her pussy. Words failed her. Thinking completely deserted her as well. Trace lapped her open sex from pussy opening to clit. Pleasure shot up into her passage as she squirmed from the sheer abundance of sensation. A wicked chuckle was his response as he pressed her back down onto the bed with one large flat hand. The tip of his tongue teased her clit, flicking back and forth across it. Little zips of electricity went up her spine as she clawed at the bedding beneath her. “That’s it, Princess. Now we’re understanding each other.” She gasped, opening her eyes. “We aren’t talking.” “No, we’re communicating on a different level.” He thrust one thick finger into her sheath, drawing a groan from her lips. “We’re connecting in a manner most couples never experience.” It had to be wrong. Talking about sex like this had to be wicked but it was so exciting she shivered, wanting more. He worked his finger in and out of her, curling the last joint so that it pressed into the wall of her passage. Pleasure swelled beneath his touch, her hips twitching up against his next plunge. “I love the way your pussy smells…” There was a little wet sound as he worked his finger faster. His eyes focused on her spread labia. “I love the way it tastes too.” Her breath lodged tight in her throat as she watched him lick her again. This time he sucked her clit into his mouth, applying suction to it. Pleasure twisted through her, sending bright spots of lights dancing across her vision. He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, bringing her mind-numbingly close to orgasm. Little moans escaped her lips but he stopped at the last moment, lapping his way to the opening of her sheath. Need tightened its grip on her as he teased the sensitive opening, running his tongue around it but never penetrating to fill her. “Now it’s your turn.” Her eyes opened wide to discover him watching her face. “To play with you?”
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He tilted his head to the side. “If you like.” He pulled his finger free as her face filled with heat. He flipped over onto his back, his cock standing at attention. She was already rolling over, the chance to reduce him to moaning as she had been, a temptation she couldn’t resist even for more of her own pleasure. “Talk dirty to me.” Her hands froze around his cock. The skin warm and smooth against her palm. Trace aimed a hard stare at her. “Tell me what you’re going to do, baby.” Her teeth went into her lower lip instead. But her hands couldn’t resist stroking his length. A small tic appeared on the side of his jaw, encouraging her. Pumping her hand down to the base of his length, she moved her face closer. “Tell you what I’m doing? What good is that if you’re watching?” He groaned, frowning at her. The man that he was wasn’t used to letting down his guard, even at such an intimate time. As she worked her hand up and down his erection, she shot a demand at his resisting glare. “Close your eyes, lover, if you want to hear my bedtime tales.” His breath rasped through clenched teeth as that muscle ticced on the side of his jaw but he let his head relax back onto the bed, his eyelids lowering. “First, I am going to lick the ridge that runs around the top of your cock.” A soft chuckle rumbled out of his chest as she had to force the word “cock” out of her mouth. It was mumbled but she did it in spite of her protesting manners. Hearing the word in her own voice made her bolder, more determined to be an equal partner. She didn’t want to be his kept woman, she wanted to be his lover. “That’s right, I’m going to lick around your cock before I suck it.” Leaning down she touched her tongue to his skin. His body jerked and she felt her confidence swell. Teasing the ridge of flesh that crowned the hard staff, she ran her tongue in a slow circle around the head. She listened to his breathing turn ragged. She took another pass around the head with her tongue before lifting her head away. “I think I changed my mind.” His eyelids flew open, a soft snarl on his lips. “Opening your eyes is naughty. Disobedient boys don’t get nighttime tales in bed.” “I should have smacked your ass a few more times.” His voice was grouchy but he closed his eyes again, a shiver crossing his chest. “Hmm, where was I?” “You were going to suck my cock.” Rubbing her fingers along the wet crown, she teased it for several long seconds. “You see? You missed part of the tale by interrupting. There’s no point in me telling you what I’m doing if you’re going to keep talking.”
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“I’m listening,” he barked at her, and she smiled in triumph, but the control he held over his own sexual urges was amazing. Excitement pooled in her belly as she surveyed the powerful male lying still on the bed. Soon, all his strength would be lying on top of her as he pushed his stiff cock into her body. He’d be rough once his control snapped and that made her want to shred his discipline until there was nothing left to hold his desire back. “Ah yes, now I remember. I was going to suck your balls first.” He cussed in Russian, low and deep, the words sounding masculine. Leaning down, she flicked her tongue back and forth across his cock until she touched the skin of his balls. She sucked one into her mouth and he jerked again, his huge body rocking the bed. Working her way along one side of his balls she played with the sensitive skin, teasing it with licks and tiny bites. The cock in her hands grew even harder as she heard his breathing turn rough and labored. “Now I believe it’s time to suck your cock.” “You bet it is.” The bed rocked violently as he surged up, flipping her over. He remained on his haunches, his cock sticking out towards her. Reaching out, he grasped a handful of her hair, tightening his grip just enough to send little nips of pain down her neck. It heightened the need swirling around inside her, giving her a taste of that strength she craved. “Crawl to me, baby. Like a cat looking for some cream.” She moaned softly as her need became almost uncontrollable. She needed him inside her, craved the hard cock in front of her. The desire to rise up and mount him as she had last night was almost overwhelming but the darker desire to be taken sent her towards his cock. She wanted to push him until he broke completely. Opening her mouth, she took the head between her lips, closing her mouth to suck on it. “More. Take it deeper.” There was a harsh edge to his voice that encouraged her. The hand gripping her hair pushed her down to allow more penetration. Relaxing, she took his cock, reaching for his balls to toy with. He growled as his hips began thrusting against her mouth. He was pushing her head down to take each thrust but she trusted him completely, remaining relaxed as he fucked her mouth. Teasing his balls with her fingers, she felt them tighten and draw up closer to the base of his cock. He suddenly pulled her head away, lifting her head up until their eyes met. “You’re not getting your cream quite yet.” His mouth captured hers, pushing her jaw wide as he framed her face with his hands. It was a hard kiss that demanded complete surrender but she answered it with heat, showing him that she was anything but compliant. “I’m going to fuck you.” He snarled the words as he pushed her back.
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“Yes.” Her thighs spread as he landed on her, clasping her hips as his cock pressed deep. He penetrated with a hard plunge that forced another “Yes!” past her lips. “Yes, what?” His body rose and fell, shaking the bed as he labored between her thighs. “Fuck you? Screw you? Pound you?” “Yes!” She opened her eyes, reaching for his shoulders as pleasure tightened around each hard thrust of his cock. “More!” “Your wish is my command.” There was nothing humble in his voice. It was pure demand. He suddenly pulled free, gripping her hips and turning her over. Pulling her hips up and back he plunged back into her pussy from behind. He gripped each hip, his hands wrapping around tightly. “I’m not going to come quickly.” His breath rasped past his teeth as his body slapped against hers, sweat coating both of them. “I need to fuck you, baby.” She whimpered because she needed to come. The urge was so powerful she cried out each time his cock penetrated her, stretching her sheath with its hard girth but not applying pressure against her clit. “Trace…I need to—” He slowed his pace, letting his cock remain lodged deep within her for long seconds. “You need to what, baby?” Harsh and without mercy, his voice snapped over her like a whip. She whimpered once more but gasped when a hard smack landed on one side of her bottom. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll decide for myself. You need…need to be spanked.” He smacked the other side of her bottom as he shoved deep into her pussy. A jolt of pleasure went through her that stole her breath. It was as shocking as it was enjoyable. A soft chuckle brushed her ear as he leaned down over her back, pressing all along her body so that she felt the hammering of his heat. “Surprising, isn’t it, baby? That something could feel so intense when it pisses you off at the same time.” His cock jerked inside her and she pushed back against it. But her bottom begged for more, all the tiny nerve endings ultrasensitive. “Yes…” She didn’t recognize her voice anymore. It was deep and sultry like some creature of the night. A hard smack landed on her right cheek. He left his hand there, smoothing it over the same area until the sting died away. “Tighten your pussy around my cock with each blow.” “Yes.” Her eyes opened as she recognized how she could share the moment with him. His hand landed on the other side of her bottom and she tightened her pussy around his cock.
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“That’s it, baby, squeeze me. Make me squirm.” He smacked her bottom again, keeping his cock deeply lodged inside her. He rubbed the sting completely away before working his length in and out a few times. Renewed need spiked through her as she felt his cock sliding in and out. Another smack landed on her left cheek, sending a different sort of sensation through her, and she tightened her sheath around the hard flesh stretching it. Her clit throbbed, demanding satisfaction as two more smacks landed on her bottom. “Trace…I can’t take any more.” He leaned down over her back, wrapping her in his warmth. He bit her neck softly as she quivered so hard, she almost lost her balance. “That’s right, baby, it’s time, isn’t it?” His voice was deep and sweet now, the tender lover she craved. He cupped each breast, gently thumbing the nipples before rising away from her, his cock withdrawing from her body. Her muscles quivered, losing their strength as need bit into her savagely. She heard the faint sounds of foil being ripped before Trace caught her and turned her onto her back. He gripped her wrists, pinning them to the bed above her head as he pushed his cock back into her. A sob left her lips as the hard flesh pressed against her clit. The only motion she could make was to lift her hips when he thrust down into her. “Look at me.” His voice was harsh but her body was too full of need to respond. “Look at me, Mia.” She opened her eyes. Her name. He only used it because she’d given him permission. The way he said it, it was the most intimate word she’d ever heard on any man’s lips. His eyes glittered with savage need as his body moved between her thighs, shaking the bed once again as he drove each thrust into her. “Come.” At his command, her body bucked as pleasure burst through her. It raced along her veins and into her belly, twisting and tightening around the hard cock fucking her. He growled, his teeth showing as his hips rammed his length against her, the grip on her wrists tightening in those last moments before he climaxed. Her thighs clasped him to her as he shuddered, groaning through his release. He landed on top of her, releasing her wrists. She reached for him, wrapping her hands around his neck. Her heart was pounding so hard it made her dizzy, but so was his. Satisfaction rippled through her. His wide back shuddered too, her fingers detecting the tremors. The moment was perfect, too perfect for any conversation. The way she felt was very right. Trace did that to her. That was all she needed to know for the moment.
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Chapter Eight She opened her eyes to find herself in bed alone. Her clothing was folded over the foot rail of the bed. The comforter was simply folded in half over her, telling her that Trace hadn’t fallen asleep like she had. The box of condoms sitting on the bedside table made her smile. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight.” She must be getting used to Trace appearing when she thought she was alone. Her shoulders only tensed a slight amount as she rolled over and got to her feet. A little ripple of enjoyment went through her as she watched his eyes sweep her nude body. She suddenly understood why women wore lingerie. “We’re going out, while the club is open?” Trace titled his head, his lips twitching. “This is more important. Jae can handle the club.” His gaze settled on her face. “You’re more important.” “Is this another way to draw Ramos out?” He shrugged. “Maybe. That’s not the point of the outing. I’m taking you out. That’s the objective.” “You don’t have to take me to a restaurant to show affection.” Or prove I’m not your whore… She just couldn’t help hearing the deliveryman’s words. All of her life she’d been taught that her virginity was expected to be lost on her wedding night. “Taking you to see your family and remaining for the interrogation is about something more than showing affection. It runs a lot deeper.” Her throat tightened, squeezing her words off before they got past her lips. Trace watched her from hooded eyes, his face oddly tender. “Did you think there’s something less going on here than the deepest emotion I’ve ever felt?” He cupped her chin, his fingers smoothing around her jaw. “I want your family to meet me.” Her lips froze in a little round expression of shock. Words failed her because her hopes swelled up until she was just too frightened to say anything that might dash them. “Say something, Princess, don’t leave me out on this limb.” He offered her a grin that was full of nervous indecision. For a moment, he looked like a boy. She did that to him… “I would very much like to take you to meet my family.” Her words were solemn, spoken with deep emotion.
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Trace winked at her. “I hope your father can get past the fact that I’m not Korean.” “That’s the least of your worries.” Mia’s lips curved. “I should warn you, eating will not be the hardest part of the evening. But it still might be…um…unusual fare at the table.” Trace scoffed. “Afraid your brothers will try to feed me jellyfish, Princess?” There was a hint of challenge in his eyes. A spark of anticipation. Mia snorted. “If you’re lucky. Jellyfish isn’t cheap, you know.” “Don’t fret, I won’t turn green at the table.” Oh, but she might turn red. Beet red and her mother would notice. Trace chuckled, moving further into the room. “Where’s that woman who fought me like a mountain lion? That blushing is going to drive your blood pressure up tonight. ” “You’re talking about my family, Trace, they always reduce me to a little girl. My parents have different standards for relationships than I do.” Her voice faltered as she considered how much she was going to disappoint her parents. It wasn’t that she lamented her time with Trace, she just hated knowing that it would hurt her family. Maybe some people could be callous enough to shrug it off, but she wasn’t like that. She still regretted that she couldn’t find a solution that made everyone happy. “Cambria mentioned that you strive to please your family, even at the expense of your own feelings.” There was an odd tightening in his voice, like he was wounded that she didn’t want him to meet her family. “Are you testing me?” she asked. “Maybe I’m testing myself, Princess. Trying to do things right for a change.” His eye glittered with some emotion that looked very deep. “I didn’t want to reach for that condom.” And she hadn’t cared either. The moment had been so overwhelming, she simply hadn’t cared. Trace was watching her, his face a tight mask of control. “So, I called your family and asked them to join us for dinner.” The phone on his desk rang. “I had some more clothes picked up for you. And all your things have been moved into the closet here. Find something you like. I like your skin best but I’ll just have to wait until I bring you back home. Be ready at seven. It won’t look good if I show up late for my first meeting with your parents.” He moved across the floor, one hand reaching for the phone. She suddenly detested the desk sharing the room. This room was a place where they loved, she didn’t feel like being interrupted or sharing him. Turning around, she moved to the bathroom, biting her lower lip as she went. She didn’t have the right to get mad about the furniture if she wasn’t laying claim to the man. It was that simple. Either she was thinking of Trace as hers, or his personal living habits were none of her concern. But what was he doing taking her to dinner with her family? 116
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Her heart lifted at the idea. The closeness she felt with Trace was like the result of years, not the short time they’d had together. For certain she had been on a long journey during the time she’d been with him—she didn’t even resemble the girl he’d caught running around the side of her work building. Her reflection caught her eye as she moved further into the bathroom. She felt as though her face even looked different, more like a woman now. She felt like it. But that didn’t answer her question about how she wanted to view Trace. A smile suddenly lifted the corners of her face as she looked at the plastic bags hanging from the garment hook. She didn’t know what was inside the bag but she knew that Trace had made careful plans to meet her family. That was golden. It was rich with tender concern for her feelings. She smothered a giggle as she opened the bags. Her brothers might try to feed him jellyfish, but only if they liked him. Somehow, she decided that Trace would be right at home with the twisted, male humor. Her fingers froze on the new suit jacket, absorbing the soft silk. High quality, the best, just like everything else he’d given her. Princess… And she was. No quibbling from her mind or worries about what her mother might think. She was content in her decision to have Trace as her lover. The only question was if he intended to remain in her life. Well, maybe she should just wait and see how he held up to her relations on family night. Trace was built of steel but her parents could bend stronger men. Honestly, she was sort of looking forward to watching the event. Shaking her head, she pulled the suit all the way out. Naughty, wicked princess was more like it.
***** “Are you hoping Ramos will follow us again?” It was a really good question, one that she should have thought to ask when he first told her they were going to see her family. Trace shrugged into his suit jacket, the fabric settling over his wide shoulders. Suits were common in her family and among their friends but she was really certain she’d never enjoyed one quite so much on anyone else. Trace looked yummy in it. And dangerous. But that edge only seemed to excite her. “I admit I want to know if he’s figured out that you’re here with me but he will at some point, so no, that isn’t the reason we’re having dinner with your family.” Mia looked at him suspiciously. He wasn’t explaining things to her again. It was annoying to discover that there was part of her that enjoyed that facet of his personality, that determination to take care of her. Her pride had a problem with that but it made her feel special too. 117
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“Come on, Princess, let’s go, unless you’re ashamed to show me to your family.” A little twist of emotion wrapped around her heart as she realized that he wanted to go sit through dinner with her family. In fact, he considered it important enough to plan details out. That was something she’d always been told to want in a man—respect for her. “Thank you for the clothes. I need to pay you back for them.” Trace didn’t answer her, making her frown. He cupped her elbow and escorted her towards the stairs. Ivens and another man were already waiting in front of the entrance in a gleaming black full-sized truck. A security man from the door opened the passenger side of another full-sized truck. Trace slid behind the wheel as both doors were closed. “I’ll write you a check.” “Keep it. I enjoy keeping you like a princess.” Mia snorted and he turned the key, bringing the engine to life instead of answering her. “I’m not a kept woman.” “Yes you are and I’m enjoying it quite a bit, so don’t spoil my fun.” Her eyes widened. “You shock too easily, Princess.” “I’m not going to trade you…sex for all these clothes. That isn’t me.” He slid her a glance that she couldn’t quite decipher before returning his attention to the road. “I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit. Here I am displaying a whole new attitude towards women and you’re quibbling over the fact that I’m not treating you like a jaded modern woman who should be paying her own way. No consideration for me at all.” “You make me sound like a brat.” “I sure did enjoy spanking you like one.” Her face went scarlet. Trace chuckled as they turned a corner and entered the freeway. “The way you talk—” “Excites you,” Trace finished for her. “But the way you blush makes me squirm like a schoolboy. Why do you think I do it?” His words touched her. There was no way to explain it because she didn’t understand it herself. Her heart simply refused to ignore what it wanted and it longed for Trace. With a muffled phrase in Russian, he reached across the seats to rub at the tense muscles of her neck. “Come on, Princess, you need to give me a chance.” “A chance to do what?” He only sent her a wink before turning into the parking lot of an upscale Asian restaurant. He was out of the truck before she figured out what she wanted to ask him.
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The passenger-side door opened for her a few moments later. Whatever she’d been thinking got lost as a stream of Korean filled her ears. The sound was like balm for sore ears. She turned to find her family moving towards her, their arms the best thing she had ever felt around her. But it was the firm grip on her upper arm that completed the moment, transforming it into something that filled her heart. Trace remained beside her, refusing to be pushed aside. He shook her father’s hand and bowed to him as well, waiting for her father to lead the way into the restaurant. Every one of her brothers was there and that only happened on holidays because the martial arts studios they ran held classes during the evening hours. She was humbled by the outpouring of love and proud of the man standing beside her. Maybe hating Ramos was hypocritical in some small way after all. The man had brought her and Trace together. There was something good about his ways after all.
***** “You’re close with your family.” Trace sounded slightly defeated for the first time that she could recall. It stunned her because he’d been her rock and she hadn’t really given him enough credit for it. “Thank you, Trace.” She spread a hand out on his chest, stopping him before he walked over to his desk. His attention shifted to her, his eyes searching for something that she desperately wanted to give him. He looked lost. She understood that feeling. “For everything. For—” “It’s okay, Princess. I was doing a job. One I enjoyed a whole lot.” He moved away, his body stiff. Her throat closed, tightening as she held back tears. They burned her eyelids as she watched him stride all the way across the room. “I need to check the floor.” He disappeared into the bathroom, his feet making no noise even on the tile. Desolation hit her, flooding her budding emotions and trying to drag her under. She resisted the pull because she knew that she’d never survive. Instead she let her temper ignite. Trace wasn’t going to leave her and certainly not because he thought it was for her own good. She was just going to have to remind him how it felt when they connected. Moving into the bathroom, she took off the respectable suit. Hanging it alongside some of her dancing clothes, she stared at them before pulling a very short miniskirt down. It wasn’t a tight one but pleated all the way around so that when she danced onlookers were treated to a flash of panties. Tonight, though, she decided she’d leave her modesty behind and wear only a thong. When fishing for big fish, you needed the right sort of bait. She was going out onto his dance floor and she was going to tempt him away from his club. Reaching for one of her purses, she opened the little lock to look inside. Safely hidden there among the silk lining was a dildo. A smile lifted her lips as she looked at
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the emerald green sex toy. Cambria had taken her to a few wild places and one of them had been a toy party. Unable to resist the forbidden, she’d bought the dildo but never worked up the nerve to sneak it into her parents’ house. Trying it out in her storage unit had failed to excite her. Instead it had been hidden away and she doubted that Trace knew she had it. But he fantasized about watching her masturbate… Goose bumps ran down her arms as she recalled the look on his face when he’d asked her about masturbation. He’d looked hungry and she was going to make sure he was satisfied. Trace Kocourek was about to find out that he’d met his match and she wasn’t going to be protected from him.
***** “You’re in a mood.” “You’ve got a gift for stating the obvious.” Rowan didn’t look impressed with his glare but the man knew him too well. With a half shrug his friend lifted an eyebrow. “Tell me this, why sit through a dinner with her family if you weren’t going to reap the rewards by having a passionate night?” “Because she doesn’t belong here.” Mia was too good for him and his lifestyle. Watching her with her family had driven it straight through his heart. It felt like a nail lodged there, slowly killing him. Just the sort of lingering death he deserved for touching her. He’d known from the first time he kissed her that she was forbidden. “You’re worth more than you give yourself credit for, my friend.” Rowan’s voice was grave, a tone Trace recognized from times when the world had felt like it was about to crush the breath out of them. His buddy suddenly straightened up, interest flickering in his eyes. “On the other hand, maybe you’ve met your match. She doesn’t look like she’s going to let you be a martyr.” Trace whipped around, clenching his jaw tight as Mia walked onto the dance floor. She was dressed like a cheerleader, fluffy mini skirt, tight sweater top and two tiny pigtails on the side of her head. The rest of her hair flowed around her head as she stepped into the music, rotating her hips in a move that caused his cock to fill with heat. It was instant and uncontrollable. Her tits bounced, clearly free of a bra, and his lips went dry. A pair of fuck-me pumps were strapped to her feet as she raised her arms and twisted around and around in circles until her skirt flipped up to show him that she was wearing nothing but a thong. Both ass cheeks creamy and smooth. And he wasn’t the only man who noticed. Thick jealousy choked him as he heard the conversation level drop.
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She jerked her head around, staring at him. With another tit-jiggling rotation she raised her hand and pointed straight at him. There was a mutter from the rest of his patrons as she crooked her finger in invitation, her hips still twisting from side to side. He was on his feet without thinking about it, his feet covering the distance between them. Drawn in by her, unable to ignore the need she spawned inside him. She turned before he made it halfway to her, wiggling across the floor just as seductively as she’d arrived. He was following her. Excitement laced her blood as Mia headed for the stairs. With a jerk of her hip, she felt her skirt flip up, exposing one side of her bottom. Turning her head, she watched the man stalking her. He’d slowed down to avoid catching her, his gaze drinking in the sight of her. Hunger shimmered in his eyes as his features formed into a very male look of raw desire. Her heels clicked on the stairs as she turned around once she was out of sight of the customers. “I do hope you don’t have more important things to do.” His eyes narrowed as he descended towards her. “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Princess. I like to keep what I win.” “So do I.” Gripping the hem of her sweater top, she pulled it up and over her head, throwing it at him. A low hiss crossed his teeth as he frowned at her. “The cameras.” “I just want to make sure everyone knows to leave us alone. No phone calls after bedtime.” “Sure about that, baby? You’ll have to keep me entertained. I don’t do inactivity very well.” Reaching up to cup her breasts, she played with the soft mounds, drawing his gaze to her chest. “I think I’m up to the challenge.” With a flick to each nipple, she ducked into the back entrance of their suite, her heels clicking on the tile as she crossed the bathroom and went towards the sofa. She’d pulled the chair in front of it for prime viewing. Trace frowned as he looked at the changes. “Both of our lives changed when we met, Trace. I think it’s time for you to recognize that change is good. I know some of the ones you’ve inspired in me are quite transforming.” “Is that so?” Sitting down, Mia reached down to unsnap one shoe. She uncrossed her legs, lifting one high and over to the other side. Trace’s gaze followed it. Moving the opposite leg she did the same, raising it high and crossing it over her knee before reaching for her shoe. Standing up she pointed at the chair. 121
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“That’s for you.” “What makes you sure I want to sit down?” “The fact that you followed me down here.” Stepping up onto the footrest, she rocked her hips from side to side, slowly dancing for him. “Don’t disappoint me by asking for something and then refusing to watch when I give it to you. I’ll have to think that you don’t really know what you want.” “Oh, Princess, I know what I want.” Bending her knees, she crouched like a large cat, her breasts bouncing. “Not even interested in what I have to show you?” she purred at him, taunting him with her confidence. He clamped his mouth shut, losing his arrogant stance. His eyes shimmered with emotion for a moment before he moved over to the chair, lowering his body into it without another word. “Ah, now that deserves a reward.” Turning around, she kept her hands on the footrest and straightened her legs. There was a swift intake of breath as she exposed her barely covered sex to his gaze. Looking over her shoulder, she winked at him. “Do you like this thong? Or should I take it off?” “Lose it,” he barked at her, and she shook a finger at his gruffness. “Honey will get you further than vinegar.” He launched his body out of the chair, catching her off-guard. She would have tumbled off her pedestal if he hadn’t caught her. His hands steadied her before hooking into her waistband and twisting. The button popped off and he threw her skirt across the room. He leaned forward, holding her in place as he caught her thong with his teeth. With a pull he yanked it down her legs. She drew her feet together as it was lowered to her ankles. He pulled it the rest of the way off, shaking his head like a beast. “And you like me at my animalistic best.” Using the grip on her hips, he lowered her to sit on the footrest. “Show me your pussy.” He sounded needy again. Like a starving man who hadn’t even seen food in a week. Her hands behind her, supporting her, she raised her legs and let them fall wide into a straddle split. The folds of her sex opened and he cussed. “Now, I do believe I remember the next request you made.” Lying all the way down, she trailed her fingers over her belly and up to her breasts. Toying with her nipples for a long moment, she teased their stiff peaks before moving up and over her neck to reach onto the sofa. Her right hand closed around the dildo, pulling it from beneath a pillow. “Where in hell did you get that?” Hushed surprise coated his voice, as if he was afraid the moment would shatter if he spoke too loud. “A girls’ party. It was nestled inside one of my purses. As an owner of a club, you shouldn’t be surprised by what some girls carry in their handbags.” 122
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“You can surprise me anytime.” Her lips curved as she heard the sound of his voice. Hungry and stunned, it was the perfect reaction, the one she’d been hoping to gain. She sat back up, leaving her legs open. Lifting the toy, she pressed a kiss against its head. “Let’s get one thing straight, Trace Kocourek. I’m a good daughter but I’m very much a woman too.” “I’ve noticed.” “Really? Then why did you leave me tonight? I think you need a lesson in just how valuable going to bed early is.” “I am your humble student.” She doubted it but licked the dildo from head to base, leaving a wet trail on the firm gel. His gaze was focused on her as he began to pull his clothing off. He didn’t sit back down until he was as nude as she was, his cock standing stiffly between his thighs. He didn’t lean back though, but sat on the edge of the chair within touching range. That knowledge cast an edge of excitement over the moment, capturing some of the control from her. A shiver shook her as one side of his mouth twitched up. “You seem to be lost. Allow me to help get you get back on track.” He sent two fingers through her slit, pausing over her clit to tease it. “I see why you stopped, this isn’t ready at all.” His gaze darkened, holding hers as his fingers traced small circles on top of her clit. Heat spread over her skin as arousal began to burn hotter. “I do enjoy a hands-on approach to instructing you, Princess.” Leaning forward, he fashioned his lips around her clit. She moaned as pleasure ripped up into her belly. He didn’t penetrate her sheath but used one fingertip to gently tease the opening as he sucked on the clit. Her heart beat faster as pleasure moved over her from the hot mouth attached to her. But he pulled away before it became the ragged need she knew he could draw from her flesh. “Now that’s better.” Sitting back on the edge of the seat, he raised his gaze to the dildo. It was definitely better. Her sheath was hot now, hungry for penetration. Her gaze fixed on his cock for a long moment, longing for it, but she hadn’t achieved her purpose yet and she never stopped until she got what she wanted. “Come on, baby, show me how you like it.” His eyes followed the dildo as she trailed it down her body. Hunger flickered in his eyes as she touched the toy to her slit, the gel slipping easily into the wet flesh. Her clit sent up a little ripple of delight as she rubbed it with the top of the dildo. She let a little sigh pass her lips as she sent the dildo further down her slit, working it against her clit. Sweet passion speared through her as it touched the opening to her body, her pussy begging to be stretched. Trace’s attention was fixed on that point where the green gel touched her.
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With a twist of her wrist she sent the sex toy into her body. It wasn’t as good as when Trace fucked her but little zips of delight rose from the contact. She pushed it all the way into her pussy, leaving it deep inside her body. “Remind me later that I owe Dack.” His voice was gruff with need. His knees hit the floor as he grasped the dildo, taking it from her. With a firm hand he began to work it, drawing it from her body and pushing it back in until she was stretched around it. She shuddered as delight rippled through her with each plunge. “Not enough.” He locked stares with her. “It’s not enough. I want to be the one inside you.” “Yes.” This time she demanded it. He pulled the dildo free and surged into her. She gasped as he pressed her back against the footrest, her legs spread out around his body. “Tell me you’ll marry me.” She whimpered, need tightening around each heavy stroke. He growled at her, his breathing harsh. “Tell me I don’t need a condom.” “You won’t need one on our wedding night.” He hissed but pulled free. She moaned as she lost the friction against her clit, her body screaming in agony because it needed to climax. His hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her up onto her feet. A second later she was cradled against his chest as he covered the distance to the bed. “Your mother better plan fast.” He tossed her on the bed as he reached for a condom. Tearing the package open, he sheathed his cock. Mia rolled onto all fours, offering him a naughty look as she backed away from him. He frowned, stretching his hands out. “You already agreed to marry me, don’t play hard to get now.” “You like it when I play.” He glared at her before launching his body onto the bed. The mattress rocked violently as his arms captured her squirming body, pulling her down onto his chest. Gripping her hair, he brought her face above his. “You’re right about that. I love the way you play…with me.” He stretched his head up to kiss her, holding her head in place while his tongue plunged into her mouth. His cock jerked against her belly, renewing her need. Her thighs parted, her knees hitting the bed on either side of his hips. Pulling her head away from his, she sat up, rising to allow his cock to stand up. His hands grasped her hips, guiding her down onto his length. Satisfaction crossed his face before he surged up, flipping her onto her back. There was no slowing down now, only desperate need driving them both. He rode her with hard thrusts as she lifted for him, eager for each penetration. Pleasure stole her breath as she twisted and felt it ripping through her 124
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insides. It was even more mind-numbing because her lover came at the same time, grinding his cock deeply into her as he snarled. She ended up gasping for breath, her heart thumping wildly. Every muscle was lax with satisfaction, her throat dry from crying out. But she wasn’t alone. Trace pulled her against him, his chest heaving as hard as her own. He molded her against his body, pressing soft kisses into her hairline. There was the soft beat of music from the club above, but it only completed the moment. The phone was blinking, shooting a soft red light across the desk to tell Trace that he had a message. “I don’t like that desk.” His hand continued stroking her. “Most people have one.” “Not in their bedroom.” He chuckled softly, his hands slipping along the curve of her hip. He turned her over onto her back, covering her with his large body. “You’re sexy when you’re jealous.” Mia didn’t relax her face—she pouted at him and he shook his head. “I agree that the business isn’t more important than you, Princess.” He placed a kiss on her pouting lips before rolling back onto the bed, tugging her along with him. He hugged her against his body, pressing her head onto his chest. A bubble of happiness filled her heart as she threaded her fingers through his chest hair, just enjoying being in his arms. The flashing red light lost the battle for his attention as he smoothed his hands over her bare skin. For the moment there was nothing but each other. Nothing more important than being lovers.
***** Dack Tyden cussed, checking his cell phone for the hundredth time. Cambria snorted as she rolled over and glared at him. “Trace never ignores a call.” Sitting up, Cambria pointed a finger at her partner. A large shape shifted behind her as Logan planted a hand on her hip, urging her to lie back down. Cambria wasn’t able to settle down. She looked at Dack, worry eating at her. “You said Trace would take care of Mia.” “He is.” Dack didn’t sound as convinced as she would have liked. He sat the cell phone on the bedside table and pulled her against his chest. “Have some faith, baby.” Cambria wiggled against his hold. “I have major guilt issues here. It’s my fault Mia is in trouble.” Logan sat up as Dack offered her a hard stare. “Actually it’s my fault.”
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Cambria’s resolve buckled, her face softening as she reached for him. “No, baby, it’s Ramos’ fault. I’m just overprotective of that girl.” “She’s stronger than you give her credit for.” Logan’s voice was deep and smooth as he pulled her out of Dack’s embrace to squeeze her tight. Dack stared at her as his partner cupped her bare breasts. A hint of arousal flickered in his eyes. “Well, it will be over soon. Now that the official case is filed, my day in court will come up quickly. If we win, Ramos will lose interest in Mia after that. He’s only trying to shut me up through her friendship with you.” “Another major reason why you need to smear him from one end of the courtroom to the other.” Dack reached for her breasts as Logan’s hands moved lower. They lost interest in the message Trace wasn’t answering.
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Chapter Nine She was a chicken. Mia glared at her reflection for about the hundredth time. Chicken. And Cambria would be happy to point it out to her. She had managed to avoid the subject for all day now, finding any excuse to not bring up Trace’s passionate proposal. Not that it was hard to avoid. It was Saturday morning and the club was busy getting ready for their biggest night of the week. Delivery trucks ran the back door as cleaning and sound checks were going on. Trace seemed to be constantly on his cell phone. She joined the team, taking over piles of invoices that Jae gladly left in her care. The chef was running a full kitchen crew in an effort to cater for a wedding happening down the street. The work helped her anxiety, keeping her mind busy. It was also relaxing because she was a part of it, not a third wheel. As the sun set, the first few customers began to arrive and she scurried downstairs to change. She stopped in the bedroom, looking at the red flashing light on the phone. It was glaring with the lights off, but once she flipped them on the little message indicator lost most of its attention-holding power. Running a business meant taking a lot of calls. She shrugged as she went into the bathroom to dress for the night. She was suddenly happier than she’d been in years. Going dancing didn’t mean sneaking around. A wicked smile covered her lips as she contemplated the words that Trace had said last night. Well, he was going to mean them or she would just have to push him over the limit again. Maybe she’d do it just because he loved it. Love… It was there, beating its wings inside her heart. So fast, so completely inescapable. Fate was one mean lady after all. Striking like a ninja, you were dead before you felt the blow. Not that she was complaining. No, not one bit.
***** The band started up but Mia only picked up her water glass. The club was crowded tonight. People moving towards the dance floor as the music rose. She smiled, her mood relaxed and carefree as Ivens stared at her from across the way. Sending him a
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wave of her hand, she leaned back against the plush velvet of a darker alcove to sit the next set out. The night was growing older and she was in the mood to steal Trace away for her own pleasure. She chided herself, taking another sip of water. Lazy men did not own clubs like the Play Yard. The couple near her moved and another man sat down on the opposite side of her. He was like the rest of the men in the Play Yard, hard and built, his body a weapon hiding inside a suit jacket. He laid his arm across the top of the sofa, but he slid his hand down the velvet surface until his hand was behind her wrist where she’d propped it on the seat of the sofa. There was a sharp tug on her bracelet and a tiny pinch of a needle against the delicate skin of her inner wrist. “I suggest you do not move, Ms. Kerstin.” The tone of his voice kept her arm in place because it was just so cold. A shiver went down her neck as she watched him turn to look at her. She’d never seen evil until that moment. Even Chuck hadn’t looked so sickeningly twisted as this man did. His lips rose into a whisper of a smile that was warped by the darkness she saw in his eyes. It was the ugliest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Casting her gaze down to where their hands rested so near each other, she saw the clear plastic ring encircling his pointer finger. Her breath rattled in her throat as the pinch against her skin became something she understood. It was the point of a needle, pressing against the exposed veins of her wrist. “Very astute of you to grasp the situation so quickly. Yes, that is a needle kissing your skin. Be very careful and very still, my dear. The poison contained in this ring doesn’t take very long to do its work.” “Why are you here, Ramos?” His lips curved higher. “You’re smart but no one out-foxes me. No one.” His smile faded, leaving her facing the cold, hard face of a man who could easily, even cheerfully kill. “Keep your eyes on me or your blood will be carrying your death sentence to your heart before anyone makes it close enough to stop this needle from puncturing your vein.” “Actually, you’re really stupid.” She was suddenly mad, furious that she had to share air with the pathetic excuse for a human sitting near her. “So stupid to think that killing is an answer to anything.” “It’s a form of communication older than time.” The fingers on her bracelet tightened. “Something that Dack Tyden will understand. Something your lover will understand.” His lips curved up again. “But it’s nothing personal. Merely business.” “He’ll understand that you’re the sort of scum who deserves everything he’s got coming to him.” Releasing her glass, she laid her hand on her chest, watching his eyes to see what he made of her move. “I’m a businessman, sweet thing. If Dack goes through with his suit to challenge his dishonorable discharge tomorrow, it’ll cut into my profits. So I need to make sure he understands not to challenge me.” 128
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Her hand inched higher, over her neck and into her hair. “Dack doesn’t know me.” “Hmm, but his newest plaything does. That makes you the closest link that I can cut. You need to understand that I have to hit a target that is as close to him as I can get. That’s you. Sorry.” Her fingers reached the silver comb in her hair. There wasn’t an ounce of fear anywhere in her, only indignant anger. Leaning forward, she stared at the evil glistening in his eyes. “I’m no easy mark.” Yanking the hair ornament free, she thrust it against his neck as she jerked her hand away from his. The bracelet snapped, sending the heart shaped charms scattering like pebbles. A thin scratch tore through her skin as the pieces bounced off the sofa and table in a glitter of reflected light. The comb speared into his flesh, her motion burying it deeply. Too focused on maintaining his position near her wrist and keeping her compliant through fear, Ramos didn’t deflect her attack in time. Warm blood flowed over her fingers as she pushed her body up and over his. A strangling sound rose from his throat as she kept going, rolling out of his reach, the metallic scent of blood wrapping around her head. She turned as she landed. “He’s got a poison dart on his hand.” Men froze in mid-lunge, jerking their bodies away from the convulsing form. Ramos gurgled a few last times before his body collapsed, bright red blood soaking into his suit. His hand lay open on the purple velvet, the dark needle in view on the inside of his pointer finger. “Did he stick you?” Trace wasn’t waiting for any answers. He jerked her out of her crouched position, one hand gripping her wrist. A light appeared over her arm as Bulosan aimed a flashlight down onto her inner arm. “Shit.” The security man angled her arm up to look closer at her skin. Trace cussed in Russian too as a thin red line of blood marked where the needle had torn her skin. Mia jerked her arm away. “I’m not going to die. I refuse.” Her heart was hammering against her ribs as satisfaction filled her. She looked at the crimson blood coating her hand and her chin rose. “I told you, I’m no lamb.” Bulosan was kneeling near Ramos, studying the ring. He looked up, his face a mask of tension. “Don’t wait for the emergency crew. That’s bad stuff. A milligram can induce heart spasms.” Trace pulled his belt free with a snap, winding it around her elbow as a tourniquet. She muttered in protest but was held in place by another hard body. Looking up, she found Rowan behind her, his eyes surrounded by creases. Her feet left the floor a second later, Trace carrying her across the floor at high speed. Unlike any other
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nightclub, the sight of a body covered in blood didn’t cause a panic. The men parted way, some of them opening the front door for Trace. “Don’t move, Mia. I meant it, Princess. Keep your heart rate as low as possible.” Trace sounded desperate. She stared at his eyes as she watched helplessness fill them. Reaching up, she smoothed one hand over his chin, the soft touch gaining his attention as Rowan opened the passenger side of a truck. Trace deposited her on the seat as she smiled at him, full of confidence. “I told you, Trace. I love you and I’m not going to die.” He cupped her neck, his stare piercing. “I’ll hold you to that, Princess. You can count on it.”
***** “This is stupid.” Trace didn’t seem impressed with her temper. Mia glared at him over the foot of her hospital bed. “Just because I told you that I love you doesn’t mean you get to boss me around.” A smug grin raised his lips. “Want to bet on that, Princess?” She snorted at him but froze as the door opened and her mother flew into the room. Her aunts were right behind her mother, all fussing over her even though the doctor said admitting her was nothing but a precaution. Her father and brothers, on the other hand, remained by Trace, their faces solemn. Mia tried to get a word past her female relatives but might as well have been wearing a gag. Her mother suddenly stopped, holding up a hand that instantly froze every pair of lips. “Where did I put the ring?” Her mother looked horrified for a moment before her father shook his head. “It’s in your shirt pocket, over your heart.” Her mother smiled, placing a hand over her chest. Relief crossed her face as she patted something. “Oh yes. I forgot.” She smiled wide as she undid the button holding the pocket closed. Pulling a small silk purse out, she gently unsnapped it. “When Trace asked your father for permission to marry you, we told him not to buy a ring yet.” Her mother reached into the purse with gentle hands, pulling a four-carat center stone, solitaire ring from inside it. Mia knew it well. The ring had been worn by three generations of her female relatives. Her mother only wore it on very special occasions. Tears sparkled in her eyes as her mother offered it to her.
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“You must wear this ring now, Daughter, just as I took it from my mother on the day your father asked me to marry him. Now it passes on to you. May you have a daughter to give it to someday.” “Trace asked you for permission to marry me?” Her father looked stunned. “Yes. His parents raised a respectful man. I am proud to give my blessing to you both.” Trace watched her, his eyes soaking up the details of her response. There was no holding back the tears that trickled down her face. She was just too full of happiness to keep it contained. He moved towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed. Taking the ring from her frozen fingers, he lifted her hand and pushed it into place. Hard satisfaction coated his face and Mia decided it was the most wonderful sight she had ever seen. He centered the stone carefully before gripping her hand. “If you’re already talking about having a granddaughter, I suggest we plan the wedding soon.”
***** Four months later “What did you do to my best buddy?” Rowan frowned but the sparkle in his eyes ruined his grumpy tone. Offering him a smile, Mia fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Nothing you can’t learn to appreciate when the right girl gets a hold of you.” Rowan leaned down to kiss her check. A flash went off as the photographer snapped the shot of the best man with the bride. “Don’t put a hex on me.” Mia laughed, the scent of her bouquet filling her senses. “So jaded. Just look at your friends Dack and Logan. Don’t they look happy? That’s not a hex.” “No, it’s called mesmerized. The poor sods.” Mia slapped his arm, pouting at his words. Rowan smiled before backing up a step and bowing to her. “Come on, Trace even moved his office for you. His days of freedom are finished.” “To which I am a happy convert.” Trace hooked an arm around her as the photographer set up another pose. “I’m just sorry you haven’t sampled wedded bliss, buddy.” Rowan waved a hand in front of him. “Keep it to yourselves. Thanks.” Mia laughed as Rowan escaped behind the camera. Her new husband leaned down to whisper against her ear. “Have I told you today that I love you?” “I never get tired of hearing it.”
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“Good. I like to make sure I get my point across.” He nuzzled her ear before straightening up for another picture. He lifted her hand, looking at the wedding ring sparkling on her finger. Flanked on both sides by eternity diamond bands was her family ring. Trace had insisted that the two bands be set with large stones just to ensure that no one questioned her caliber ever again. “Please don’t let me change that habit. I love you just as you are.” His hands squeezed her waist as they smiled and obeyed the photographer. Their friends and families milled around, anticipating the reception. Mia found herself lost in a daydream that had somehow transformed into reality because Trace was hers. She was in fate’s department.
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Also by Dawn Ryder Challenge Protocol Hawk’s Prey Hidden Urges Improper Lessons Improper Longings Improper Pursuits Janus’ Conquest Outside Protocol Reaching Back Talon’s Trophy Tempting a Lady
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