Aegis Security 02 - Sinful Surrender (3 page)

“Hey,” a woman exclaimed somewhere to Grace’s left. “I thought you said you were gay.”

Grace couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away to look, and neither did Brian. Those pretty blue eyes of his held hers with a heat and need that made her tremble. “I think she just turned me.”

Everything inside Grace went warm and soft. The woman scoffed and stomped away. Footsteps sounded behind Brian, and the music continued to pump out of the speakers above, but Grace was too lost in the moment to care about anyone else. She leaned in to kiss him again when a voice brought her to a stop.

“I thought that was you, pretty girl.”

Her gaze shot past Brian to the dark-haired man standing behind him.

Oh, crap.

“Yep,” the man said with a shit-eating grin, one Grace knew well. “I was right. It’s really good to see you, Gra—”

“Kendrick.” Heat rushed to Grace’s cheeks. She pushed back from Brian, stumbling on the stupid heels she was wearing, desperate for Tate Kendrick not to give her away. What the hell was he doing here? Why had she forgotten about him? And why on earth had she lied about her name? What had seemed like a good idea for a little harmless flirting was now going to ruin her night if Kendrick opened his big mouth.

Brian’s arms were still around her, and they tightened, catching her before she slipped and went down. Confusion lowered his brow, but his gaze still didn’t drift from her face.

Perspiration popped out on Grace’s forehead as she eased back far enough to balance on her own feet. His hands slid from her body, leaving behind a chilly trail, but she was still trapped between his thighs and her barstool, and she couldn’t get very far away. She pushed the hair away from her face, working to stay calm. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Tate Kendrick rested his hands on his hips. His hair was longer than Grace remembered, almost to his shoulders, but his rock-star good looks were on full display, like always. “The band had a gig in Denver. Got a buddy up here who said the snow in Vail was awesome right now, so we thought we’d see what all the fuss is about before we have to head to Dallas for our next stop.” He nodded toward a table in the corner filled with five to six guys, drinking and laughing. “What about you?”

“Oh, um…” Right. He was on tour right now. She’d read that online. She glanced over and quickly away. She didn’t want to hear about Kendrick’s bandmates or whoever he was partying with now. Though part of her owed him for her big break, she didn’t particularly want to tell him why she was really here, not in front of Brian. Because then she’d have to admit she’d been lying to Brian all along. And that wouldn’t just ruin her evening, it might ruin her entire trip.

She also wasn’t thrilled about doing the whole big introduction thing, because she didn’t want to have to explain how she knew a rock god. “Just skiing.”

“She’s here with me,” Brian said.

Kendrick glanced toward Brian and back again, questions evident in his eyes, but Brian wasn’t looking his way. No, he was staring right at Grace with both amusement and interest. An interest that heated her veins and caused her pulse to tick up even more.

Most guys were intimidated by Kendrick’s success. His band had been at the top of the charts for the last few years. But Brian didn’t seem the least bit interested in the guy behind him. In fact, after flicking Kendrick one quick glance, he was once again staring at Grace as if she was all he could see.

“Um.” Grace didn’t know what to say or do. All she knew was that she wanted to kiss this sexy man in front of her again. Right now. All over.

“I, well…” Kendrick scratched the back of his head. “It was good to see you, I guess.”

“Yeah, bye,” Grace mumbled.

Brian waited until Kendrick moved off, then his fingers found their way back to Grace’s hips. Sparks of electricity shot straight to her belly at the very first touch and trickled downward until her legs felt like Jell-O. “That was…unexpected.”

“Yeah.” Her throat was thick. Her voice, so not like her own, filled with an arousal she barely recognized. Was he talking about Kendrick or the kiss? God, his hands felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a guy this much. Wasn’t sure she ever had. Her fingers brushed his biceps, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like beneath that black button-down. A burning desire to touch him, to feel him, to
know
him whipped through her like a tornado. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.”

The temperature in the room seemed to jump ten degrees. Grace’s gaze snapped back to his face, and she bit down on her lip, wondering what the hell he was thinking. What the hell she was supposed to do now?

“You’re vibrating, Samara.”

Boy, was she ever. “I know. But I can’t seem to stop it.”

His lips curled in a gorgeous smile. “Not you, though I like that. I meant your purse.”

Grace looked over her shoulder and realized her phone was buzzing. “Oh.”

He let go of her and reached for his beer. “Answer it.”

Grace didn’t want to. Didn’t want to lose the moment. But common sense told her it could be the police back home. Twisting toward the bar, she pulled the phone from her bag, and caught sight of an unknown number.

“Hello?” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hi. I’m wondering if I have to bring my own restraints or if the Playhouse provides them. What kind of dungeon rooms do you have, and how much weight can your restraints hold?”

Grace closed her eyes, a familiar frustration bubbling inside her. “This is not the Playhouse. You have the wrong number.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s exclusive,” the man on the other end of the line said. “Exclusivity isn’t a problem. Do I have to bring my own sub or are you available? You have a great voice. I bet you scream really well.”

“Oh my God,” Grace muttered. “Asshole. I’m not on the menu.” She punched End and dropped her phone on the bar.

“Who was that?” Brian asked.

Rubbing a hand over her forehead, Grace turned to face him again. While he’d released her, he hadn’t let her go far, and she was still trapped between her barstool and his legs. Awareness spread back through her belly. An awareness she hoped he liked as much as she did. “Just a wrong number.”

His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid as he regarded her with serious, narrowed eyes. Something had changed in him over the last several seconds. Instead of the carefree, flirty guy she’d kissed, he now had a dangerous edge that set butterflies to flight in her stomach.

The macho protective vibe had never done it for her before, but for some reason tonight, from him, she found that extremely…
hot
. Which only rattled her more.

“It’s no big deal. I sometimes get calls like that. There’s this, ah…sex club…outside Vegas called the Playhouse. Have you heard of it?”

“No,” he said, eyeing her with those stormy, sapphire, very focused eyes. “Should I?”

She shrugged and tried to keep things light. “I figured since you read all those whips-and-chains romances, you probably would.”

“Not me. But it sounds like you know an awful lot about them. Go to this playhouse often, Samara?”

“What?” Heat immediately rushed to her cheeks. “No. Never.” She looked at his broad chest beneath the black button-down, because this was so not a conversation she wanted to be having. “I’ve never been there, but my cell is like one number off theirs, and every now and then I get these weird, kinky calls from people like that idiot.”

His shoulders relaxed, then his hand lifted, found her hip, and slowly tugged her back in close. And God, Grace liked that he’d reached for her again. That this wasn’t all her.

“What did he ask?”

Grace bit her lip. “Um…he asked if I was available. Said he liked the sound of my voice.”

His other hand landed on her opposite hip. Heat exploded everywhere he touched through the thin fabric of her dress. “Are you available, Samara?”

Grace’s stomach bunched, and Holly’s voice from earlier echoed in her head.
“Hit that before someone else does.”

Slowly, she lifted her eyes back to his and saw exactly what she hoped for. Desire, arousal, pure unadulterated interest.

Oh yeah, she wanted to hit that, several times. And though it was reckless and wild and so not like her, Grace decided tonight she was going to go for it. Holly was right. This was exactly what she needed to release some pent-up anxiety and hopefully get back to work.

She rested her hands on his biceps again, inched closer. And she knew by the way his arms instinctively wound around her that she was making the right move. “For the Playhouse? No. For you?” She leaned in close and drew a deep whiff of his heavenly scent, one that infused her with confidence. “Yes. But not here. Do you want to come back to my room for a drink?”

He stiffened against her, and a dark place in the back of her mind warned he was going to say no. Then every muscle loosened and relaxed.

“Yeah,” he said into her hair. “Yeah, let’s get going.”

* * *

What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

Brian could hear Jake Ryder’s voice pinging around in his head as he followed Grace off the elevator and down the hallway toward her room. He really needed to turn his ass around and get the hell out of here. He wasn’t supposed to be interacting with her at all, let alone kissing her senseless like he’d done in the bar. So what the bloody hell was he doing?

Grace stopped in front of a set of double doors and fumbled with her keycard. “These things are so frustrating.”

Jacket in hand, Brian stood back, intent on not touching her, and watched her slide it incorrectly four times. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Grace’s head came up. A huge guy dressed in a suit with shoulders like an NFL linebacker stopped feet from Brian and gave him the once-over. “Ma’am, is everything okay here?”

“Yeah.” Grace’s shoulders tightened. “Just trying to get my keycard to work. Why? Is there a problem?”

Mr. NFL glanced from her, then to Brian. “We got a report of some suspicious activity on this floor, so we’re just being cautious. Are you two registered in this room together?”

Mr. NFL’s stance was defensive, and though Brian knew the guy was just doing his job, his spine stiffened. He was also curious about this so-called suspicious activity.

“He’s a friend,” Grace said. “Nothing to worry about here.”

Mr. NFL gave Brian the once-over again like he didn’t believe her, then directed his gaze toward Grace. “If that keycard isn’t working, you’ll need to go down to the front desk.” He stepped past them and shot Brian an
I’m watching you
look before he moved on his way. “Y’all have a nice evening.”

Grace blew out a long breath and relaxed her shoulders. When Mr. NFL was out of earshot, she muttered, “I hate security. I hate the way they’re always watching.”

“You have issues with people doing their job?” Brian asked, turning his attention back to her.

She ran her card again. “No. I have issues with people butting into my privacy like that.”

“He’s just trying to keep you safe.”

“Well, he should ask and not just assume. He was looking at you like you were a liar and a cheat.”

Brian’s stomach tossed. At the moment, he felt like one.

Grace swiped the card again. “Damn it.”

He reached for the key before he thought better of it. “Here. Let me.”

“Thanks.” Grace moved back and swiped the hair away from her face.

He slid the keycard in the right way. The light flashed green. Turning the handle, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and held it for her. “There you go.”

Grace shot him that wicked, heated smile and stepped inside. When he didn’t follow, she turned to look at him. “I thought you were coming in.”

He wanted to. Brian glanced down the empty hall where the security guard had disappeared. Every instinct he had said to get the hell out of here as fast as he could. But one look at Grace’s expectant eyes and his body warmed, sending sparks of arousal through every cell, dragging him forward before he could protest.

Confusion morphed to an excitement that brightened her entire face. She stepped back as he closed the door and motioned for him to follow her down the small entry hall that led to the suite’s living area. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

He shouldn’t. Brian rubbed a hand over his forehead. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something he couldn’t undo. But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to get his feet to listen to his damn head. He told himself he was just doing his job. That he was only here to make sure she got back safely and because he planned to talk some sense into her about inviting a stranger back to her room. But then she leaned forward to slide off one heel, and he got a good look at her adorable ass in the tight black skirt, and he knew he was spewing bullshit a mile long. And that he wasn’t about to leave.

“Just…” Dark curls fell over her face as she took a step with her bare foot and reached down for the other shoe, doing this strange little hopping thing that shouldn’t be sexy but, shit…was. She tried to unbuckle her strap and move toward the bedroom at the same time, but all the movement did was cause her breasts to jiggle in the dress and give him a better view of her ass—tight, toned, not from crazy workouts but from nature—and damn, it was totally hot. “I’ll be right back. There’s wine”—
hop, hop, hop
—“near the bar.”

She disappeared into the bedroom, and alone, Brian drew a deep breath that did shit to calm his raging libido.

Tugging the gun from the holster at his back, he slipped it into the pocket of his coat, then laid it over a chair. Then he stalked toward the wet bar on the far side of the posh suite, where he found ice, water, diet root beer, and an unopened bottle of wine wrapped in a bow that looked more like a gift than something she’d bought for herself.

She wasn’t a drinker. That was obvious. And right now, more alcohol was the last thing either of them needed. He filled two tumblers with ice, poured water over the top, then turned to find her standing in the bedroom doorway, watching him with those sexy dark eyes.