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Authors: Karla Doyle

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BOOK: Body of Work
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“Going hardcore, I like it. But how about I mix you something that tastes better and won’t make your pretty face numb?”

A bartender who didn’t want to push an easy drink at her and move her out of the way—nicely done indeed. “Sure.” She squeezed tighter to the bar to avoid an oblivious drunk on her left side. “Whatever you have in mind, I’m game.”

“Words to get me through the night.” He winked.

A quality wink, playful and sexy without a hint of creepiness. Here was a guy she would have gone home with not so long ago. She knew his type—easygoing and mildly adventurous in the sack. Like medium chicken wings—not too bland, not spicy enough to singe the senses. A good diversion for a night. But not this night. Not any night since she’d developed her Brian-fatuation.

The blond placed a tall shot glass in front of her and layered in melon liqueur, Baileys and Jägermeister. “Bottoms up.”

She handed him the cash and lifted the glass. The aromas of sugar and alcohol filled her nose. She believed him that it’d taste good, but she bet the innocent-looking concoction still held the power to numb her face. “It’s really pretty. What is it?”

“Loch Ness Monster.”

“Ooh, sounds dangerous. Should I be scared?”

Another laugh as he placed her change on the bar. “Only if you have multiple sightings.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Cassie tipped her head back. Nessie floated over her tongue and rolled down her throat, setting off a mixed reaction. Happy taste buds at the entry point, focused channel of fire as the alcohol crept lower. She swallowed the last drop and shook her head. “Wow.”

“Want another?”

“God no. I can only swallow one monster at a time.”

“You’re killing me here, gorgeous.” He caught her hand as she pushed a generous, well-deserved tip his way. “Come back to my section for all your drinks tonight. I’ll take good care of you.”

“That’s a sweet invitation, but that was it for me—I’m here to dance, not drink.”

“Then just…come back.”

Oh, it was
that
kind of invitation. “I—” The harmless fib poised on the tip of her tongue vanished when she caught sight of Brian in her peripheral vision, hovering over a curvy young blonde with hair that hung halfway down her back. Speaking of monsters, Cassie’s green-eyed one reared its ugly head, higher and stronger than ever. She blinked her attention back to the bartender and smiled. “I will.”

Chapter Five

 

What the fuck. When Dave had come to tell him Cassie was at the door, dropping his name, Brian assumed—stupidly—she’d come to see him. He’d tracked her the second she walked through the archway, yet she’d headed straight to the bar instead of searching him out. Ten minutes later, she was practically holding JT’s hand while the guy drooled on the bar in front of her, ignoring the rest of his customers.

Too bad he couldn’t bounce the staff.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to, now that Cassie had abandoned the bar. JT still had a smile on his face, the bastard. The night was young and the back parking lot was dark—Brian could straighten JT out later, if necessary. Make sure the only fluid JT gave Cassie came from a bottle.

The girl who’d latched on to Brian earlier kept chatting, following him as he trailed Cassie through the crowd. Bouncer groupies. Made no sense to him, but there were always a few. He’d have to shake this one loose soon. When the opportunity to get Cassie alone appeared, he didn’t need a tagalong.

“Wait up,” a hand closed around his arm, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Stuff like this used to do it for him. Picking up a hot-and-ready female on nights he worked the club was pretty much a guaranteed thing. And they never wanted more. Hell, he rarely had to serve them breakfast, let alone court them. They just spread their legs, collected their alcohol-induced sex and cabbed it out of his life. The last time had been a month ago, and every stroke had felt wrong. Fucking a stranger and wishing it were Cassie had been the worst sex of his life. Unfortunately, it’d probably been pretty shitty for the woman in his bed too. He didn’t even remember what she looked like.

One word and the attractive, slightly tipsy young woman at his side would jumpstart the old pattern. After hearing Cassie fucking that Italian guy this afternoon, he ought to take blondie up on her unspoken offer.

He bent his head to her ear so she’d hear him over the noise. “I’m working. Go find your friends. Dance, whatever.”

Rum-scented breath wafted in his face as she pulled his head closer. “Will I see you later?”

Good question. “You might.”

“I’d better,” she said, nearly head-butting him in her drunken attempt at a sexy kiss.

Despite everything she had going for her, she did nothing for him. He let her finish her sloppy oral assault, then worked his way deeper into the crowd, putting as many bodies between them as possible.

Place was packed tonight. The hum in the air intensified the closer he got to the dance floor. The pounding pulse of the music. Adrenaline and endorphins rolling off the bouncing, grinding bodies. Picking out any one person between the flashes of light should be next to impossible, but he spotted Cassie immediately.

As it usually did, the crowd parted for him. One of the advantages of being built like a Highland warrior, as his mother had always described him. He found an open spot with a clear view of the dance floor and planted his feet in a wide stance. Folded his arms high on his chest and put on his bouncer mug. It might’ve appeared that he was working, but all hell could’ve broken loose in front of him and he wouldn’t have noticed. He only saw Cassie.

Song after song played. Through all of them, she swayed, jumped and gyrated. Sang along to every word and smiled. Goddamn, that smile. Brighter than any of the spotlights that crisscrossed the dance floor. And he wasn’t the only one drawn to it. First one guy, then another and another. She had no shortage of dance partners tonight. No surprise there. She moved alongside each of them in turn, never missing a beat. A couple of them lowered their heads to try to talk to her. They got a head shake. Turning down whatever they’d suggested. Now that part, he liked.

The DJ took things down a notch with a song made for sexy, close dancing. One of Cassie’s admirers caught her arm in invitation. Again, she shook her head. Unlike the others, this guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Instead of releasing her, he pulled her toward him. Not only did he force her against his chest, he walked backward, moving them out of the central area. Like sand in a funnel, people filled their spot on the floor and folded in on their retreating path. Brian stretched to see over the sea of heads. No sign of the faux-hawk guy or Cassie. Fuck, where’d they go?

He pushed through the ever-thickening crowd. The club had to be over capacity. He could fix that, turf some idiots out the door—starting with the guy who’d dared touch Cassie against her will. Only that guy wasn’t getting a polite escort out the front.

Then he’d deal with Cassie. What the hell was she thinking, coming here alone? Worse, dressed in a skirt that barely covered her ass, those fine legs of hers bare and finished off with fuck-me shoes? She might as well have had a neon sign over her head that read “cock tease”. Shit. Blur had a solid rep for being the biggest meat-market in town. People came here to get loaded and get laid. That didn’t excuse the bastard who’d dragged her off the dance floor, but it made his mistake more understandable.

“Trouble?” Craig, one of the other bouncers, asked when he emerged from the crowd.

“Yeah, possibly. Saw a guy drag a woman from the dance floor against her will. Can’t find them now.”

“Maybe you read it wrong. Maybe she’s one of those chicks who gets hot from being manhandled, and now they’re getting busy in a dark corner.”

He’d flick Craig across the head for being a moron if they were talking about your average woman. But with Cassie, Craig might have it right. She’d certainly enjoyed their rougher play last night. Doing it with somebody else, though…

“Fuck, man, you look ready to pound somebody into next week. Maybe you should take a break, go out back and grab some air.”

“Yeah, think I will.” He buddy-slapped Craig, then headed past the bar. He’d been distracted enough when all he and Cassie had done was talk and flirt. Now that he’d been with her, his head—hell, his whole body—felt as if it’d been ransacked. He wanted her. He also wanted to throttle her. And when he thought of combining those two…it was probably a good thing they wouldn’t be together again. She affected him too much. Brought all his hard edges too close to the surface.

He headed down the corridor that led to the restrooms and farther along, to the employee entrance. Typical of the later hours on a Saturday night, the ladies’ room had a line stretching halfway down the hall. Also fairly typical, the few whistles and comments he drew from those alcohol-loosened females. He scanned the line for blushing cheeks that’d give away his catcallers and zeroed in on Cassie instead. He had about five seconds lead time before she noticed him. Long enough to note her downturned lips—a rare sight, and a huge change from how she’d looked while dancing. Not good.

“Having a good time?” he asked. The woman beside Cassie piped up as if the question had been for her, or in general. He didn’t bother to acknowledge her. Didn’t wait for Cassie’s answer either. Not when it was obvious she was searching for words. Too out of character. “Come with me.”

He half expected her to balk at the hand he offered. Instead she slid her warm fingers over his palm and let him pluck her from the line. Step one and he’d take it.

Near the end of the hall, he keyed in the code for the staff locker room and ushered her inside. Empty, as it should be this time of night. “Washroom’s over there if you need it.” Her eyes followed the line of his arm to an open door, but she shook her head. “Not speaking to me, or did something happen with that guy from the dance floor?” That got her attention. The wide eyes staring straight up at him kind. “What’d he do?”

“He—it’s okay, I took care of it.”

Heat churned in his chest. “That answer’s not even close to good enough. Tell me.”

“He assumed I wanted to do more than dance. I let him know he was mistaken.”

The rage worked its way higher, firing the tops of his ears and pounding a beat behind his eyes. “Wait here.”

“Are you going to kick him out?”

“At least. Depends how many people are watching.”

“Brian, don’t.”

The way she’d flung herself between him and the door almost made him smile. “You really think you can stop me?”

“Maybe.”

“Think again.” Cupping her tiny waist, he lifted her from the spot, took a few steps to the right and deposited her on the floor. “Stay.”

Sneaky little pixie darted around him and plastered her back against the damn door. “I’m not your pet.”

He crowded her. Curled his fingers under her choker-style necklace and tipped her face up. “If you were, you’d be better trained.” Wrong time to think about Cassie naked and bowing to his wishes, but how could he not with her lips parted and her pulse beating like jungle music against his fingers? He had to let go, take a step back. “Go sit on the bench while I make sure that asshole got your message.”

“It’s packed out there, you’ll never find him.”

“I’ll find him.” He cracked his neck side to side. “Now move.” Waves of short light-brown hair fell in her face when she shook her head. Again. Stubborn little thing. “Cassie. Out of my way.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“It’d be worth it.”

“Because you’d get to beat the crap out of somebody?”

“Call that a perk. Dealing with this asshole might make up for my stupidity earlier.” Instinct took over and he stepped into her space again. “And then you’ll let me take you home later.”

“You want to drive me home?”

Cute. Very cute. “More than that.”

“Oh?” She sent a different kind of heat through him when she flattened her palms on his chest, rocked her wicked little body back and forth against his bulging fly. “Decided you want another night with me?”

“Keep going.”

“What, you’re going to stick around and make me breakfast this time, instead of stealing my last orange and sneaking out the back door?”

Self-preservation screamed at him to remember what he’d overheard at that back door. Fuck it. She’d owed him nothing at that point. He had a shot at changing things and he was taking it. He caught her chin and held it. “I might make you lunch and dinner too.”

The flirty smile shifted into something a hell of a lot rawer. Her hands slid down, nails dragging over his t-shirt. The buckle on his belt jingled. The sound of unzipping echoed between them, then her hand wrapped around his cock.

“Don’t waste your testosterone on that idiot from the dance floor…save it for later, for me.”

If she knew what he could do—wanted to do—with the testosterone coursing through his system, she’d run, far and fast. He wouldn’t give her reason to run, he’d be careful. A hell of a lot more careful than he’d been with Leanne. He just needed to stay in control. Starting now, by getting back to work. But goddamn, that face. Eye-fucking him while she licked her lips. They could do without him in the club a few more minutes.

BOOK: Body of Work
13.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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