In MIB Custody [The Service Club 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

“Kalkin?” She dared to put voice to her suspicion.

Who else could it be? But how had he found her? She had told him only that she lived in a small town in Alabama. She never revealed precisely which small town, not to him, not to anyone or anywhere on the Internet. Writing under her given name was taking enough of a risk at attracting crazed fans and stalkers. She had believed a small town in Alabama would provide enough anonymity. After all, there had to be a good fifty or more Podunk little towns in this state.

She had to give Kalkin credit. He didn’t flinch when she called him by name. He didn’t suck in a startled breath. He simply continued to drive her hormones higher into the galaxy with the warmth of his even breaths against the side of her neck and the soft caresses of his hand over the bare flesh of her upper arm.

“Why did you say that?”

For the first time since he had started speaking, his voice raised a smidgen higher than a whisper, and she knew she was right.

“You’re the only man who has ever called me Dannie.”

He didn’t attempt to argue or claim she was wrong. “I’m Zane.”

Zane Kalkin. When she put the names together it stirred something in her memory. At first, she had taken everything he had said in their exchanged messaged and phone calls at face value. Then, she had started to want him,
really
want him, and she had commenced to digging. She had Googled Kalkin and Tampa. The search results had delivered companies, people with it as their last name, people with it as their first. It had been a surprisingly long list to weed through, and one that proved next to impossible to check off without more information about him.

There had been that one, though. She had immediately dismissed it as ludicrous and way too coincidental. That one leapt to the front of her mind now as clearly as if she were staring at it again on the computer screen.

“Will you take the blindfold off, please?” She made it a request rather than a demand, kept her tone sweet, and forced herself to remain calm. Dominant men didn’t take kindly to orders from their woman. She didn’t belong to him, but she had given him control of the moment. Until she could get that back, she had to play along.

“Why?”

“I want to see you.” She did. She wanted to look into the eyes of the second man in her life to truly betray her before she gouged said eyes from his skull with her fingernails.

He didn’t turn her, but walked around her instead. The man in front of her, the one with his hands still on her hips, the one who had her blood boiling even more than Zane Kalkin, moved around her, too. They effectively swapped sides, and only then did the hands on her hips start to move. They glided up her back, and she closed her eyes behind the blindfold, wishing that touch didn’t feel so fucking good.

The hands stopped at the blindfold, and she felt his fingers working the tie free. She blinked, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the contrast of the light in the room, then focused on Zane. Her attention moved over wavy brown hair, thick eyebrows, and intensely bright blue eyes. She followed the curve of his cheek to his rounded jaw with her gaze, then jumped to the fine lines around his mouth.

Those lines became more pronounced as his lips stretched in a smile that only made him more devastatingly handsome. Despite the boiling in her veins, her system started to melt.

“You figured it out.”

Oh, yeah, she had figured
it
out and a whole lot more. The more was what gave her the strength to keep her anger fuse burning now that she knew the truth, strength he immediately snatched from her when he hooked a finger beneath her chin and kissed her.

His lips were soft, his tongue even silkier as he traced the outline of her lips before delving inside her mouth. She didn’t want to give into the kiss. She wanted to tell him to go to hell. But she was finally kissing the man who had invaded her dreams, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from indulging for one sweet, memory-planting moment.

He made love to her mouth, controlling everything about the kiss with a tender domination that rendered her powerless to stop him. It awakened things inside her, brought back all of those nights she had lain in her bed longing for him, and probed at feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Her mind fought the sensations as her body melted against his. Her nipples beaded, pressing insistently into the solid muscles of his chest. Desire shimmered warmly through her veins, coating her anger, and making it difficult to think beyond surrendering completely to the needs of her body and the commands of this man.

She nearly lost it. She teetered on the edge of total submission, but the hands that glided up her back rescued her from the fall. Those weren’t Zane’s hands. His remained on her chin and upper arm. Unless she were wrong, they belonged to Lowell Tucker and had no business being anywhere on her body.

Zane slowly broke the kiss, eased his head back, and the starkly sexual gleam in his bright blue eyes twisted around her heart. She turned between them, her gaze sweeping one side of the room, landing on members of The Service Club who had been quietly watching the entire time, people who had set her up for this, and finally settled on the other man in the center of the room with her and Zane.

It only took one look into Lowell Tucker’s deep brown eyes for a lifetime of memories to overwhelm her soul. Something in her snapped. The strength Zane had momentarily taken away returned with a vengeance, and she embraced it, held on tight, and used it to strike out.

“You son of a bitches!”

Lowell’s lips parted as if he were about to speak, but she didn’t give him the chance. Remembering what she had learned in the self-defense class she had taken a few years back, she steadied her weight on one leg, lifted the other, and buried her knee in his groin. The pained gush of air that puffed out of his lungs wasn’t satisfying enough. The blow caused him to stumble back a full step, and she used that distance to her advantage. Sweeping her leg out, she spun on Zane, catching him off guard enough that when her powerful kick connected with the side of his leg, it knocked him smartly on his ass.

“This is kidnapping!”

Lowell pointed through the windshield at the upcoming street. “Take a left there.” He’d had to let Zane drive to give him a few more minutes to regain his composure. Fuck, the woman had one hell of a knee. He had always admired her knees, loved their slightly knobby shape, and found them to be incredibly sexy. His gaze dropped to them now on its way to her face. Damn if he could find a frigging inch of them that was sexy while his balls ached like a bitch.

Zane slowed the rental car for the turn and eased around the corner. “It’s not kidnapping if we’re taking you to your own house.”

“Fine, then I’m a hostage. Isn’t taking a hostage a big no-no for MIBs?”

She had gotten the first move on them, but she hadn’t gotten a second. He and Zane had recovered quickly, even if they had both been riding on adrenaline more than design. He had doubled over at first as flames had exploded in his balls. He had been thanking his lucky stars that her aim hadn’t been right on. His inner thigh had absorbed a good portion of the blow. Enough that he had been standing upright by the time Zane had hit the floor. His partner’s ass hadn’t stayed down long. In a flash, Zane had been right there with him, and together they had gathered Danica and her belongings, said their good-byes to the club on their way out the door, and loaded into the car.

Lowell lifted a brow. “MIBs?”

Danica rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. You know what it stands for. Men in black.” She glanced at Zane, then slid her gaze down Lowell. “Or rather, man in black and man in blue jeans. Either way, they both start with a B.”

Lowell’s lips twitched. “Cute.”

“I wasn’t trying to be cute,” she said haughtily.

Maybe not, but it still fit. She
was
cute. She had always been cute. He was glad to see that hadn’t changed. Very little about her had from the top of her natural ebony head to the heel of her black leather boots.

Cute, exotic, beautiful, and definitely original.

Danica Wallace had never cared what anyone thought of her. She was who she was and didn’t care if people liked it or not. She stood out in a crowd, especially in a town like Horn Hill, with her Goth-like appearance and rebellious attitude. But it was the innocence inside her that had twisted the first string around Lowell’s heart. Nothing about her was an act, but a combination of a pure, strong-willed woman with a deep desire to be corrupted in the most sinfully exotic ways. Ways Lowell had every intention of exploring as soon as he felt safe letting her loose again.

“Taking a hostage would be a no-no if that’s what we were doin’,” Lowell drawled.

She had given them hell about taking her out of the house on the Circle M Ranch. If not for the fact that two officers on the Horn Hill police force had been watching with wide grins on their faces standing next to the nearest neighbors who might have heard her, someone might have assumed she was being kidnapped and called the law. They had left her car at the Circle M after accepting an offer from Diek Rylon that he would drive it into town in the morning.

“We’ll call it takin’ you into protective custody just to be safe.”

“You’re the ones who are going to need protection as soon as I get out of these damn handcuffs.” She twisted in the seat between Lowell and Zane in a futile attempt to uncuff herself.

Lowell chuckled even as he admired the way her breasts bounced as she wriggled. “And you wonder why you’re still wearin’ ’em. It’s the last house on the right, Zane.”

She puffed a frustrated breath up her face that sent her bangs flying. “Come on. A couple of tall, buff, badass FBI special agents like yourselves can’t possibly be afraid of a one-hundred-thirty pound, five-foot-eight female like me.”

“You’ve got quite a bit of strength in that one-hundred-thirty pound frame, darlin’, and most of it is apparently in the legs.” Which was the one place they hadn’t bound her.
Yet.
Damn if Lowell would give her another chance to get off a knee to his balls.

Zane pulled the rental car into her driveway and cut the engine. “Do you want me to get her?”

Lowell shifted as he reached for the passenger door handle, testing the stability of his legs and the slowly receding ache in his balls. “Naw, I’ve got her.”

“Got her how?” Danica all but shrieked. “I’m perfectly capable of walking into my own house, Lowell Simon Tucker.”

Lowell climbed out, settled himself on his feet, and reached for her. “I don’t doubt you are, darlin’.”

“You’re also capable of using those sexy stems as a weapon,” Zane added as he slid out the driver’s side door. “Which is exactly what we want to avoid you doing again.”

Danica sighed. “Look. Just let me out of the car and these cuffs. I’m not going to go all ninja on either of you again. I’ll walk into the house, and the two of you can be on your way.”

“I’ll get you out of the car.” Zane snaked an arm between her back and the seat, hooked his hand around her waist, and dragged her closer. “The cuffs stay. You won’t go all ninja on us again anyway, and we’ll all go into the house.” He scooped her into his arms, mindful of her bound wrists behind her, shut the car door with an elbow, and started up the walkway leading to her front door.

“You’re not staying.”

Lowell hardened his expression as he looked at her, making sure she knew he didn’t plan on leaving her any room for arguing on this one. “We
are
stayin’. Deal with it, darlin’.” If looks really could kill, he figured he would be sprawled on the ground right about now with a gaping hole in his chest.

He stepped to the side of the front door and waited as Zane dug her keys from her purse and unlocked the knob. Careful not to knock her head on the now open doorway, he turned sideways as he walked inside.

“You can put me down now,” Danica told him through gritted teeth.

Lowell bounced her in his arms and gnawed the inside of his lip. “You’ve put on a few pounds, darlin’.” More heated arrows shot from her amazing cobalt eyes. “It looks good on you. Feels good on you, too. I’m not sure I want to let you go just yet.”

“Even if I tell you this is hurting me with my arms behind my back like this?”

The woman knew how to deliver a blow, whether it be physical or verbal. He was pretty sure the way he had her cuddled against his chest wasn’t hurting her, but the gentleman in him couldn’t take that chance.

Lowell slowly lowered her to her feet, but kept one arm locked around her waist. Christ, holding her again restored a pain in his chest that took up so much space it barely left enough room for oxygen. She was the only woman who had ever unleashed desires in him he had to fight to control.

She tipped her head back, holding his gaze, and he watched as emotions swirled in her eyes. Anger. Damn, she was still so angry with him. Desire. She still wanted him. Love. It was there, too, buried deep, but glinting with memories of the passion they had shared and the promises they had made to one another before both of their worlds had gone to shit around them.

She licked her lips, and when she spoke, her voice sounded thick, as if she were struggling to keep herself in check. “Am I going to have to beg you to take these damn cuffs off?”