Layers Peeled (4 page)

Her attention
flew to the grinning blond who was finishing off another round of
our shots. He winked at her, way differently than he had at me, and
her knees wobbled.
Man, what did he put in that tequila?
The
girls swooning at Tristan hadn’t even noticed the count of
Bartender’s Wet Dream shots was one less than in our group, but I
was already aware he wouldn’t serve me any alcohol.

“Ladies, I
hope you don’t mind if I steal Allie for a while.”

Slowly their
heads shook in agreement and Tristan took my hand. The warmth of
his touch flew along my skin and I felt like I’d just been picked
up by the sexiest guy alive. Actually, I
had
been. And I
couldn’t help but gloat that he was mine, all mine.

Laura remained
speechless, but I saw a thumbs-up by her hip, aimed completely at
me.

I followed
Tristan to the dance floor, trying not to trip over the deadly
looks stuck in my back like daggers, courtesy of all the women
dancing around us. But I didn’t really care. I was with Tristan,
and he made me feel so alive and wanted and beautiful. Life was
actually worth living.

Behind us I
heard, “How did Allie score him?” and “Don’t I know him from
somewhere?”

I would
definitely have some explaining to do.

Tristan led me
toward the center of the dance floor. As if at his request, the
music slowed and he spun me right into his arms. The way he held
me, protected me from the world and sharp stares, made me feel like
I was hovering on cloud nine. The press of his body against mine
erased all my worries – in fact all my thoughts. He cast a spell
over me, and that giddy feeling of a school girl returned.

“Smooth, Mr.
Cross.”

“Thank you,
Ms. Green.”

“You knew we
were coming here tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Should I even
ask how?”

“No, but
please accept my apologies for ruining your ladies’ night out. I
just couldn’t stay away from you.”

“Any evening
when you’re around seems to be much better.”

“I’ll make a
note of that.”

“Weren’t you
supposed to come back tomorrow?” I slid my hands up his arms,
wanting to feel that much more of him.

“And spend a
restless night in a hotel room with a cold bed? I’d much rather be
here.” And there was that lifted lip again: so perfect, even if
scarred.

“Are you
suggesting you’ll be in my bed tonight?”

“Yours, mine.
It doesn’t make a difference as long as you’re in my arms.”

I bit my lip.
“You were flirting back there.” I looked up into his eyes. The dark
atmosphere added a pinch of mystery to his hazels.

“I was
not.”

“Bartender’s
Wet Dream?”

“Would a Dead
Penis have sounded better?”

I chuckled.
“How about
I’m off the market
?”

“But that
should be obvious from the way I look at you.”

The heat of
his stare penetrated me to the core. He could have asked me to come
on the spot and I would have. How had he managed to steal all my
sensibility? With that one simple sentence I wanted us to be alone,
ideally back at Tristan’s apartment and in his bed. I couldn’t deny
at how my body responded to every single look Tristan graced upon
me. I hung onto his words like they were all connected in a chain
that kept me attached to this world. Otherwise, I’d think I was
dreaming. Girls like me, regular ones who led a simple lifestyle
(less the obsessive bastard Wright who’d ruined my childhood),
weren’t supposed to deserve a man like Tristan. He’d managed to
peel every single layer of my impenetrable cop exterior with a
look, a touch, and a word.

“I stole your
ladies’ night, but I can guarantee your friends will be well taken
care of.”

I didn’t doubt
that. Jess was already leaning over the bar, striking up a
conversation that would lead to nothing less than a night of hot
banging. Laura had found some hottie as well, whom I thought I
recognized, and was grinding her body against him like blunt knife
on a whetstone. The poor guy had no idea what he was in for.

“I think
they’ll manage,” I laughed, feeling Tristan’s hairline with the
tips of my fingers, “and I much prefer this.”

And without
another word Tristan dipped me back and down in a semi-circle,
forcing my pelvis to brace against his thigh. The contact sent a
sharp throb of pleasure through my body. When I came up, Tristan’s
full hand supported my back, holding me closer. I had no room to
breathe or move. His grasp left no space for a wiggle, and I had no
choice but to lose myself in his graceful and needy mouth. The club
disappeared from my thoughts. The sounds around us faded. The
pounding of his heartbeat mixed with mine and echoed in my ears.
Tristan possessed my mouth, and without thinking I let him. His
tender tongue parted my lips and guided mine, pressing harder when
I tried to inhale, its depth and moist tip tantalizing me. Kissing
Tristan was almost as good as making love to him. If he’d stripped
me naked right in the middle of this dance floor, I’d have allowed
him. I laced my fingers into his hair, feeling its soft texture
tickle between them.

When he pulled
away I heaved, trying to focus. The room spun, and only then did I
notice the shift in the tempo of bodies around us. The lights
flashed in a sequence of purples and reds. A blue wave of a laser
light cut through rising steam that must have been coming out of a
fog machine. Tristan began moving, guiding my arms to follow his
lead. The suave moves and spins and dips made him that much sexier.
I laughed as if I were on the way down a steep rollercoaster. This
night couldn’t have turned out more perfectly, but I seemed to tire
out way too quickly for my liking. Our little Puss was definitely
draining my energy.

And with one
nod toward the bar, Tristan pushed past the crowd, which once again
parted at his sight, holding onto my hand like it was
priceless.

“I’m thirsty,”
I explained, apologizing with my eyes for stopping the dance.

Tristan waved
his hand at another barman, pointing two fingers to the ceiling and
circling them. It was like they had a sign language I wasn’t aware
of.

“Follow me.”
He led me towards the VIP lounge.

He sat on a
soft couch and pulled me right into his lap. It felt like heaven to
be in his arms. Soon after a waitress brought me an iced tea with
lemon and Tristan a glass of scotch.

“I’d offer you
tequila,” he said, passing me the glass.

“Stop teasing.
You know I won’t touch one for a few years.” I removed my high
heels and lifted my feet to the seat, wrapping my arm around his
neck, and then drank half the glass at once.

“Do you regret
it?” he asked in a surprisingly serious tone.

“Never,” I set
my glass aside.

“You and Puss
are the best things that could have happened to me.” His hand slid
over my belly.

“You read my
thoughts,” I said.

He kissed my
nose and took a sip of his scotch. Tristan’s arm never let go of my
waist and I was still sitting in his lap. The smell of him and that
soft curve I felt under my ass were beyond arousing.

“You know,
there’s still one thing I don’t quite understand about you. Why
would you ever buy a nightclub if you don’t have the time for it,
or hardly ever come here?”

“My ownership
is just a formality. This club was Kendra’s dream. When I found out
she was using drugs, I wanted to steer her in a different direction
and offered to help her finance the venture, but she refused.”

“Why?”

“It was her
way of dealing with my rejection. I’m guessing she wanted to spite
me. My only choice was to get Gabriel Silver, my cousin and
partner, to become a silent partner.”

“The one in
Vienna, who you said was hiding from Martinez.”

“Yes. When
Gabe tried to help Kendra and got involved, things took a wrong
turn. He was forced to stay in Vienna to keep his girl safe, and we
had no other choice but to transfer the title to me. This way I
could at least get people to manage the place.”

“Why not just
sell it?”

“Because deep
down in my heart I know this is still Kendra’s dream. Once she’s
well, I’m hoping it will keep her occupied. Maybe Julian can work
the kind of magic on her I couldn’t.”

“Is she
getting better?”

“Julian’s
hopeful. He’s trying to get her to connect to this world. Telling
the difference between what’s real and not is still a struggle. She
keeps relapsing thinking she’s still captive, but it’s baby
steps.”

“Do you think
you should be helping Kendra to such an extent?”

“She’s
actually asked me not to interfere. You sound jealous, Allie. You
know I’m all yours.”

“I can’t help
it if I am a little, but I don’t want to be. I want to
understand.”

He took a deep
breath in. “I feel like I started the roll down the hill. Now I
just want to make sure there’s a brake on the bottom a bit gentler
than slamming into a wall. Rejecting Kendra the way I did was
wrong. I should have seen it coming. She retaliated not only by
stabbing me but by ruining her life. She had no one to count on
because of me. I owe her, as my friend, to get her back on her
feet.”

Tristan blamed
himself for what had happened to Kendra. It seemed she was still
hunting Tristan’s life more than he wanted to admit. Or perhaps it
was that tiny lump of jealousy in my heart, wishing I didn’t have
to share Tristan with anyone – even his past.

As the night
progressed we enjoyed the privacy of the lounge, talking and
flirting and making out. I was glad once our conversation turned
away from Kendra. The flame of jealousy rekindled in the pit of my
stomach every time she was mentioned, and I didn’t like the
feeling. The comfort of Tristan’s company and his soothing kisses
on my shoulder – in fact everything he did – held so much emotion.
I felt guilty worrying that he could still have feelings for
someone else. Besides, she had saved my life, so I owed her.

Tristan’s
phone buzzed in his pocket.

“It’s
Washington. I have to take this. Please excuse me. I’ll be right
back.”

His unpleased
expression and the troubled shift in his cheeks made me wary, but I
stayed where he’d asked me to wait for him. I leaned back on the
couch, watching my two friends wiggle their butts on the dance
floor. Laura, Jess, and Tessa twirled and spun around their new boy
toys. Even if I couldn’t recognize the men from the distance, their
silhouettes were definitely well built. Yet something familiar
about Laura’s man of the hour caught my attention. I definitely
recognized the muscled body shape and suave movements but couldn’t
quite place them. Watching my friends dance, I was certain I’d miss
going out with them when my belly was sticking out; not that we got
a chance to do so too often even now.

Near the club
entrance, beyond the crowd of heads, a couple caught my attention.
Their sharp movements and awkward body language alerted my
instincts. A man wearing black jeans and a hoodie was gripping a
girl’s wrist harder than I liked. She tried to weasel out of his
hold, but that only seemed to anger him. He raised his arm to hit
her but stopped mid-way, and she shrank back against the wall.

My back
straightened.

Let her
go!
I screamed in my mind, my gaze darting to the two bouncers
whose attention was on the ever-growing line outside. The thug
jerked on her arm again. The girl obviously didn’t want to leave
with him. She kept pulling on his arm, trying to free herself from
his hold. For a moment I thought tears glistened in her eyes, but
it was difficult to see from such a distance. My heart ached. I
stood tall on my toes, looking over the mingling crowd. If a few
more people entered, I’d lose track of them. He yanked her harder
as she braced her other hand and her feet against a wall,
struggling to fight back.

And
that
revived all my senses. I shouldn’t have waited this
long anyway. A fresh dose of adrenaline rushed through my veins. I
pushed through the crowd, aiming for the entrance. My focus
remained on the couple as every ounce of my being committed to help
her get rid of the bastard. She thrashed around and raised her hand
to slap him, but he stopped her mid-way once again. I wished she’d
hit him, and I promised to give him a dose of his own medicine if I
only got a chance.

The thug
crushed into her in response, pinning her between his front and the
wall. His nose squished against hers, his tight lips moving harshly
as he tried to speak through his teeth. The spit shower from his
mouth oozed with threats I could only imagine. The girl rolled her
shoulders forward and recoiled like a puppy who’d been scolded for
peeing on the floor.

He pulled her
hand once more, she lowered her head, and they headed for the
exit.

“Stop them,” I
screamed over the music, but no one heard me. Why did moving
through this crowd feel like I was swimming in molasses? My feet
felt like they were waddling through thick, half-cooled asphalt. I
automatically reached to my waist for my gun, but of course I
didn’t have it on me.

“Out of the
way!” I pushed past a group of girls whose ensembles consisted
mostly of skin. Their chilled looks attached to my back. Cold night
air slammed into me as I left the club. My breaths were shallow,
and my chest rose up and down in a quick sequence. Searching for
the girl, my gaze skidded left then right, pinpointing the familiar
shadows down the street. There she was – trying to stop him,
resisting his pull, but his brute strength overpowered her. Their
unintelligible argument began fading out of earshot.

Reaching into
my pocket I removed my phone and texted Laura. Tristan could have
been on the other line and not receive my message.