Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (10 page)

A kiss like that could stop time. End wars. Bring world peace. Maybe even get her to forgive him, because really, any anger after that just seemed stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, breathing heavily. “You’re right, I should have helped you sooner.”

Jordan took in a few deep breaths of her own, trying to steady herself. Her hands were still clutching his shirt. She pried them open and backed up, putting a few well-needed inches between them. Good God, she couldn’t allow herself to be kissed like that. What if Warren had seen them? Just when she was getting him to trust her?

She had to make him understand that he needed to leave her alone. “Look, I know you’re trying to get me to quit, but I’m here because I have to be. I don’t have a choice.”

Of course, he wouldn’t understand why. Sure enough, he rolled his eyes. She decided to try another approach, using a truth she estimated was fairly universal for most of the women who worked there. Much more calmly she said, “Maybe in your perfect world, with a perfect family, you have a safety net. If you can’t pay your rent or bills, someone can step up. It’s never been that way for me.”

It wasn’t a lie. In fact, the harsh reality of it lodged a lump in the middle of her throat. She’d been hugely alone since the night a crazed drug addict had killed everyone she loved. She knew exactly what it meant to be by yourself, struggling to make ends meet.

“I make more at Buck’s in one night than I could make in a week at my last job. It’s nights, it’s flexible, and I only have to do it until…”
Until I throw Arlo Buck in jail
. No, she couldn’t say that. “Until I’m done with school this year.”

He trapped her between his arms and leaned against her car. Even after he’d been in a smoky bar half the night, his scent arrowed straight through her.

“Maybe I just lost my head when I saw you with Warren.” He shifted closer and blocked most of the air chilling her skin. Ironically, along with the warmth came a vicious outbreak of goose bumps.

“Are you dating him?” he asked.

She choked out a laugh, but there was absolutely no humor in it. She let her eyes drift to his, and knew, or at least felt, he couldn’t be a part of Arlo Buck’s drug mess. God, he had the most beautiful face. Was that an insult for a man? She couldn’t help it. Every time she looked at him, she was struck by it. The wicked lips, the chiseled chin, and for God’s sake, the eyes that danced between a hypnotic silver and a dark, dangerous gray, depending on his mood.

“Look, you have to trust me when I tell you I know how to handle myself,” she said. “I’ve been doing it since I was ten. You’re right, this is a bad place, and some less-than-honest deals are being made here. I’m just a waitress, and I intend to stay neutral with Warren and Arlo, even very friendly if need be. They’re not people you want to cross.”

Heaven help her, but she was going to try to save him. God only knew why. It wasn’t a good decision. It wasn’t smart. It probably wasn’t even based on gut instinct that he was innocent. It was a decision based solely on the fact he made her insides curl every time he stepped close. If he had even an ounce of cop instinct left in his body, he’d take the hint.

“Ty, you need to find a different job. Don’t ask me questions; I can’t elaborate. I’ve become friendly with Warren, and I’ve overheard a few conversations I shouldn’t have. You need to listen to me. Tell Buck this isn’t for you. You’ve had another offer, a change of heart, whatever, just get out.” She turned to escape into her car.

He caught her upper arms and pulled her back against his chest. His lips nuzzled against her ear. “What do you know?”

His demanding, husky voice penetrated down to her bones. She spun around, seething, hoping to cover desire with anger. “I know I’ve had the last private conversation with you I intend to have. I’ve told you what I can. Now be smart. Stay the hell away from Warren and Buck. Stay the hell away from me. I mean it.”

She turned and opened the door of her car, only to have him slam it. He snagged her arm again, much less gently this time.

“If there’s something going on, I need to know.”

She twisted and looked up at him. “You’ll walk away from all of this, me included, or the next time you touch me, you’ll end up in a lot worse shape than the old man who put the moves on me tonight. And just for the record, if you’re not smart enough to quit on your own, I can have you fired in a heartbeat. He already hates you.” She tilted her head toward Warren Buck, who was approaching quickly.

“You’re supposed to be watching the floor, McGee, not hassling the girls. I told Jordan she could leave.” Warren’s gaze fixated on Ty’s hand, the one still wrapped around Jordan’s arm. “Is there a problem here?”

“No problem. Just your dad’s pit bull growling about how I haven’t signed the incident report. Heaven forbid that would wait until my next shift,” she said, sneering at Ty.

“Get back inside, McGee. The only employees you worry about are your crew. I’ll take care of the girls. You got a problem? You come to me or my dad. Now get lost.”

…

Ty decided it would be better to walk away. Beating Warren Buck bloody would have been, in the short run, very satisfying. But his goals ran a bit more long-range. He stepped back and walked inside but never left the window where he could watch for himself every move Warren made with Jordan.

Warren played with her hair, smoothed a finger down her arm, slipped his hands around her waist, and leaned in to steal a kiss.

The look on her face said it all. She shrank back, lightly tapped his chest, and pushed him away.

Ty thought back to last night when he’d kissed her. They’d damned near torn each other apart. He rubbed a finger over his lip, still tingling from their kiss of a few moments ago.

Jordan wasn’t interested in Warren. She brushed him off like a piece of lint.

Ty’s jealousy diffused quickly but was replaced by something equally as uncomfortable. A feeling that she might be in a lot more trouble with the Bucks than he first thought.

“So what the hell is she up to?” He eased back from the window. Something about her didn’t make sense. She must know something about the Bucks. Or maybe…maybe they had something on her. God, could Warren be blackmailing her?

He’d tried to warn her the other night, but maybe he’d been wasting his breath. Maybe Buck had already gotten to her.

“Damn it.” He didn’t have a clue what Warren could be holding over her, but finding out was his new number-one priority.

Chapter Six

Jordan had barely been home long enough to change and wash her face when she heard the knock. She looked through the peephole to see Ty standing there.
At two in the morning.
Geez, the man was honestly clueless. She toyed with the idea of ignoring him and going to bed.

“I know you’re home, Jordan. I saw your car in the lot. Will you open up for a few minutes?” he called out. “Please. I’d like to talk to you privately. Not while we’re standing in the middle of Buck’s parking lot.”

Silently cursing, she leaned her head against the door and mentally listed all the reasons to keep it shut. Not the least of which was the way her stupid body reacted every damn time she looked in his direction. She reached for the doorknob but decided the chain was staying firmly in place. The big muscled chest and the seductive eyes were staying exactly where they belonged—locked on the other side of a thick slab of wood.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through the tiny opening. “I think we already said everything that needs to be said.”

“Maybe you did, but I want to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“No.” She kicked the door shut, but somehow
knew
that wasn’t going to be the end.

“Fine. Okay, fine. You’re right, it’s really late.” His voice vibrated through the small crack between door and frame. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier and ask you a few questions. But we can talk tomorrow. In Buck’s. In front of everyone. I don’t mind apologizing or maybe asking you out in front of a strip joint full of drunks.”

He let the implication hang silently in the air.

The son of a bitch was good. Jordan shook her head and bit down on her lip to stop the thin smile that was threatening. He
knew
the very last thing she’d allow was for him to embarrass her at the club tomorrow. The threat may have been idle, but with Tyler McGee, one could never really be sure.

“I think it’ll be nice for Buck’s customers to see a little romance playing out in front of them. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Sleep well, baby.”

See? That’s why he’s toxic.

But he’d made his point. If he had something to say, she damn well wanted him to get it out of his system tonight, in private. And stay far,
far
away tomorrow.

She steeled herself for the inevitable surge of…insanity…that would zing through her when she caught sight of him. Rolling her head from side to side, she inhaled a steadying breath.

Tonight’s strategy called for cool disinterest.

She slid the chain loose and opened the door. His eyes were the first thing that usually screwed with her resolve; tonight was no exception. She avoided the trap by glancing away and waving him in. “What do you want, Ty? I’m tired.”

As dangerous as the eyes were, his body held another kind of appeal that defied all logic. He’d skipped the jacket tonight. Nothing to hide the black shirt tucked into snug, low-riding jeans. The polo molded to his body as tightly as the pants. His chest and arms looked like they’d been melted and poured into it.

With his hair a bit too long and the hint of a beard on his face, his normal appearance edged toward dark and dangerous. But tonight, even with the easy movement of his body, she sensed his mood had turned a bit darker, too. He was carrying a chip on his shoulder about something; it didn’t take ten years of experience as a cop to figure that out.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of it all.” He paced away from her, drifting around the room. “Trying to figure it out. Figure
you
out. Why you’d give a drugged-out loser like Warren Buck a second glance.” He turned back toward her. “Sit in his lap and let him kiss you.”

She shrugged. “It clearly sounds like you need a hobby. Something more interesting than poking your nose into my life. There’s no mystery here, Ty.”

Slowly, he strolled toward her, tilting his head a little. “I think you’re nothing
but
one big mystery.” Apparently, he’d worked out a strategy of his own. His tone remained even, his body language mirrored hers—the picture of casual indifference—but his eyes gave him away. The dark, predatory stare betrayed a heat simmering just below the surface.

Her body responded with a sharp inhale. Damned if there wasn’t heat kindling in her own blood, too. But she knew exactly how to douse the flame. “I like Warren. Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be with him?”

“Actually, it did. Then I saw Warren pull you close in the parking lot.” His eyes shifted, taking in every nuance of her expression. He’d slipped into cop mode and was waiting for a tell to pass across her face. But then his gaze dipped to her lips and stayed there. “It didn’t look like you appreciated his kiss too much to me. Remember,” he whispered, “I know what your face looks like when you enjoy it.”

An eerie silence flooded the room, and a sharp sexual twist pulsed between them. She closed her eyes. It was a pathetic last line of defense, but if she couldn’t see the dark desire burning in his expression, maybe her own stunning ache would ease.

“Am I wrong?” He murmured again. “Did you like Warren’s kiss?” His hand slid into her hair and tangled. He tugged, gently, so she had no choice but to tilt her head back. “If you feel something for him, now is the time. Tell me, and I won’t bother you again.”

She stood silent, unresponsive, and kept her eyes closed. It was one short, simple lie. But every time she tried to push the words out, they died in her throat. What the
hell
was wrong with her?

He tugged again until her eyes slitted open. “Is he blackmailing you?”

“No. Let go.” She refused to make eye contact and attempted to shake free.

“Is he threatening you?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Damn it, Jordan, don’t you understand how dangerous he is? You
will
tell me what’s going on if it’s the last thing I ever accomplish.”

This time, it wasn’t the arrogant tone or questions that bothered her, but rather the concern in his voice that pierced something deep in her chest. What little determination she had to push him away was fading quickly. He had to go. Right now. In pure frustration, she brushed past him to show him the door.

He reached out and caught her arm.

With a move that bordered on uncontrolled, she whipped around to face him. They stood eye to eye, both too stubborn to look away and diffuse the tension. Fighting to level out the jagged hitch of her breath, Jordan looked down at the hand on her arm, then trailed her gaze back up to meet with his.

He released her. Just when she thought she’d survived the worst of his anger, he laid a hand against her cheek, sliding his thumb over her bottom lip. Heat from his large, hard body scorched hers, and that’s when she felt it strongest—want and desire punching through her like a fist through tissue paper. Need mixed with her blood, coursing through her veins like a drug.

He smoothed both hands down her arms and entwined their fingers, then backed her up until his body had hers pressed against the wall. Raising her arms above her head, he said, “I’ll tell you what, you humor me and tell me what it is about Warren that makes you fall all over him, and I’ll walk out your door. No questions asked.”

Their eyes connected in a moment of raw truth, and Jordan knew—just knew—that the way he affected her was more dangerous than any criminal element she’d ever gone up against.

“Nothing to say?”

He wanted her to talk? She was lucky she could draw enough air to stay coherent.

One hand cuffed her wrists, the other slid down her body until it settled on her bottom and drew her hips flush against his. “Don’t tell me the woman who uses her tongue like a carving knife is speechless. I’m gonna tell you what I think.”

That wicked hand held her firmly against his hard length.

“I don’t think Warren makes you shiver like this when he touches you.” He bent his head close to hers and murmured, “I don’t think Warren is who you want to be with.”

His whiskered cheek scraped against her skin. Warm breath feathered down her neck. “His looks? His career? Which is it? Or do you like his hands?” All of his attention focused on her breast now. He cupped it and stroked a thumb across the sensitive tip.

She gasped, trying to decide whether to slap him or plead for more, but a betraying shiver convulsed through her body.

“Do you like his eyes?”

Of course, she couldn’t help looking into his piercing, spell-like gaze at precisely that moment. Tyler McGee knew damn well what those eyes of his did to women. He counted on it.

“His lips?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he took her face in his hands and leaned close, pressing his smooth, soft lips against hers.

She groaned. For the first time in her life, she had a sympathetic pang of understanding for addicts, a glimpse of what addiction must be like—facing something so utterly destructive and wanting it badly enough not to give a damn about the consequences.

The kiss spun out. Desperate. Intoxicating. Their hands and limbs moved, entwined, touched. He broke off the kiss long enough to come up for air. His chest heaved, and his lips were moist and red from kissing her. At least she had the satisfaction of seeing him equally affected.

“Maybe it’s just me,” he said, “but there seems to be an awful lot of chemistry in this room for you to be so hung up on Warren Buck. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Right.
Telling the man anything was a lesson in futility. In just a few blurred moments, he managed to have her world tilting wildly off balance. She wanted him. Pretending otherwise seemed ridiculous.

He nuzzled into the curve of her shoulder, nipped at her neck, then soothed the sensitive skin with a heated lick.

She shivered, and the ache in her core turned to thick, hot liquid need. Her arms slid around his waist. Her fingers ran up his back and dug in with a desire she didn’t understand. A few days ago, no one could have convinced her that her own body was capable of this kind of betrayal. She knew better.
Damn it
, she knew better.

With his mouth hot on hers, he dropped his hands to her butt and lifted her. Her legs circled his hips. His thick, rigid arousal pressed against the apex of her thighs, and her body tightened and strained. She moaned against his lips. It felt good, so damn good, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough with him.

Every kiss, every touch lured her farther away from everything she knew to be right. She tore her lips away from him and pushed at his chest. “Stop,” she moaned breathlessly. “Stop it.” Her head pounded back against the wall.

They both stilled. Ragged breaths panted wildly out of sync with the staccato tick of the clock hanging on the wall next to them. He threw his head back, and a frustrated growl tore from his throat.

Setting her down, he broke all contact and stepped back. He scrubbed a hand down his face, then plowed his hands through his hair. Shaken, Jordan decided, almost as badly as she was, he squeezed his eyes tight as if the next words were painful. “Do you want me to go?”

“I want…” Desperation crawled through her. She didn’t understand it. She blinked her eyes, searching for a clue in his face. When he looked at her, she saw the mirror image of her own desire and need. “I want you to touch me. I want your hands on me. And I want to feel you inside me.”

The words surely didn’t come from her mouth, from her brain, but there they were. A truth she had muttered without caring about any repercussions.

In less than a second, his body had hers pressed against the wall, his lips and tongue ravaging her. Their teeth clashed as the kiss turned into something desperate and urgent. Tugging the straps of her tank top off her shoulders, he pushed them lower and lower until her breasts were exposed.

Then everything stopped. His hands stilled, dropping away from her body.

Fear that he’d changed his mind rolled through her. She opened her eyes and saw him staring, almost reverently, at her chest.

“Dear God,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea what seeing you like this does to me?” He moved his hand to her breast, gently caressed the skin, tracing around the nipple, lightly, as if treading new waters, as if exploring something magical and precious for the first time.

The soft, sensual touch almost buckled her knees. She’d always found her breasts more annoyance than asset. Until right now. Until this very moment when he leaned in, drew one nipple into his mouth, and gently clamped the stiff peak between his teeth. She arched into the sensations, and it was female pleasure, pure and simple, that brought a desperate moan for more to her lips.

“I want you,” he murmured in a faint whisper on top of jagged breathing. “I’ve never wanted like this.”

Her mind barely registered the words, but for a fleeting moment, she wondered if maybe
this
wasn’t normal for him, either. Her reply was lost somewhere in an incoherent moan. She had no idea what she murmured, but her hands were greedy and trembling. She slid his black shirt up his torso and tossed it aside. If she didn’t get her hands on his bare skin in the next few seconds, she was sure she would die. The desperate need to touch him wouldn’t go away. She unbuckled his belt, opened his jeans, and curled her fingers around the burning hot, well-endowed length of him.

“Ah, Christ,” he groaned.

He made quick work of her shorts and panties. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he pushed at them until they pooled at her ankles. Lifting one of her thighs, he hooked it around his hip. His fingers glided against her, into her, with a precision that left her helplessly bowing into his touch.

She clenched a fistful of his hair as her body coiled and pulsed against the movement of his hand.
“God,”
she cried, not just breaking, but crumbling beneath his touch. “God,” she murmured again, slumping back against the wall, hands and arms splayed, scrambling for purchase against the onslaught of sensation.

He gave her no time to regroup, no chance to recover before he kneeled in front of her. Her eyes slid shut, but she felt his hands on her hips, felt his lips lightly grazing nerves that were still reeling. She heard him inhale deeply and groan, then his tongue began to move against her.