Strip Search (10 page)

Blue eyes lit with mischief, she stood on tiptoes to whisper, "Pretend you've just finished your first number and you've approached my table. Let's see how you react to this."

Before Mark could even begin to guess her intent, Nicki nibbled on his earlobe, then brushed her mouth against the sensitive column of his neck. He shivered as the mounds of her breasts pressed against him, her warm breath heating his skin. Damn, she smelled good, like cinnamon and citrus all mixed.

But he managed to keep in control.

Nicki reached across his body. One of her hands founds its way into the disco-deep V of his black shirt and nestled against his skin. The feel of her touching him ... wow. More than one of his fantasies in the last few days had been all about that.

He swallowed as she smoothed her palm down his bare chest and abdomen. Her slow fingers journeyed back up, leaving tingles in their wake. That added to his rising temperature.

Might be a good idea to start thinking of Joan Rivers right about now ...

As her slow, sure palm reached his chest once more, her thumb toyed with his nipple in teasing strokes, back and forth, back and forth. Both nipples stood at attention. Goose bumps broke out across his skin, along with a light sweat.

Nicki tossed him a teasing smile and licked those full red lips he hadn't quite forgotten tasting. At the sight, he sucked in a breath, as a jolt of desire radiated down toward his dick.

Gritting his teeth, Mark managed to keep his "reflex" under control. Barely.

"See," he said. "I'm good to go."

Liar, liar, liar.
The strain in his voice proved it.

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

That sounded deliciously ominous.

"Nicki ..."

The woman predictably ignored him and pulled him down to press a barely there kiss to the comer of his mouth, a series of kisses against his jaw. She pressed her entire body flush against him, and the feel of her nipples against his chest nearly drove him past his control. She was small and lush and fiery in his arms, and Mark clenched his fists at his sides to keep from grabbing her and letting his hands communicate his rapidly growing interest in the concept of having her naked on top of him.

Mark barely realized that Nicki was nudging him backward until he almost stumbled. She kept on, driving him back with her hands at his hips and her lips grazing his throat.

Holy shit, she smelled good. Noticing a woman's scent ... he couldn't remember the last time he had unless, like with Tiffany, the store-bought musk made him sneeze. But this was all Nicki. A pinch of spice, a bit of tang--and a hint of her arousal, the scent he knew he'd wallow in once he had her naked and legs spread for his waiting tongue.

Oops, his "reflex" was kicking into gear at that thought.

She forced him back another step. He retreated the next pace on his own, hoping he could avoid contact with her lower body, especially the good parts. She would know she'd won then.

Time to think of ... oh, even Joan Rivers wasn't killing his mood, mostly because he couldn't get Nicki out of his head. Damn it! Remember jail. Think of Blade Bocelli's ass nailed to a prison wall. Picture Barney Fife break dancing.

Too late.

The back of his knees hit a chair that doubled as a stage prop, and down he went. He landed on his ass with a thud in the metal chair. His bulk nearly sent it tumbling back, but he caught himself. He had no time for self-pats on the back, though.

Not when Nicki dropped to her knees before him.

Mark sucked in a harsh breath as she grabbed his hips and dragged him closer. He watched her in aroused amazement at she planted a kiss at the base of his neck. From there, she only moved lower. Her lips played at his collarbone, tongue nudging aside his Tom Jones shirt and laving over the swell of his shoulder.

Impatient fingers pulled at the silk garment's V. Cool air hit his nipple, turning it hard, an instant before her hot mouth enveloped it. Mark nearly lost it.

With a gentle nibble, her teeth sent pleasure careening from his nipple to explode in his gut. Blood rushed by the gallon to his cock when her fingers took up where her mouth left off--and said mouth started traveling south again.

"Nicki..."

Her only answer was to dip her tongue into his navel and push his knees farther apart with a wriggle of her shoulders.

He groaned.

And still, Nicki kept going south, low on his abdomen, lower still ... Mark pressed his lips together to keep in a groan. Then he felt her hot breath cascade over his cock, now constricted by his tight pants and feeling swollen to the size of Mount Vesuvius.

What the hell would she do next?

"What's this I see?" she mocked, running one finger from the tip of his cast-iron hard-on to the base. "No, it couldn't be. Not you. Tsk. Tsk."

"I'm hard as fucking granite. Happy?" he managed to grit out.

A faint smile curled her mouth. A dangerous smile. She wouldn't, not again ... Before he could finish the thought, Nicki ran a fingertip up the length of his erection. Her tongue followed. Only a very thin layer of fabric separated the wet heat of her mouth from him, and the knowledge was burning him alive. Suddenly he had a vivid picture of what Nicki would look like with her mouth wrapped around his naked cock. It burst across his brain and scalded his blood.

She repeated the process, a sweeping caress, a decadent lick. He felt everything. It was too much. Not enough.

He speared his hands in her hair and wondered if pleading would induce her to continue. The woman was killing him.

"On second thought, no," she said suddenly, her voice penetrating the haze of his lust. "I think you're just having a reflex to the fact I'm female. I don't play with boys who don't admit they want
me."

"I want you," he groaned, wondering how she'd turned the tables so quickly, so thoroughly. "You know damn well I do."

Nicki licked the length of his cock one more time, then rose. "That's your problem. Mine is your behavior around the customers. Keep your 'reflex' under control."

She stepped back once, twice, her eyes sizzling, full of sparks and challenge.

Mark watched Nicki, struggling to restrain his reaction to her mocking seduction. They weren't done here. He hadn't had time for equal opportunity arousal. Where the hell did she think she was going?

A devilish smile turned up the corners of her lush, red mouth. "I'll leave you to deal with your ... problem. Don't yank my chain again."

"Nicki, this isn't over."

As if he hadn't even spoken, she tilted her head and informed him, "Oh, Zack should be here any minute. He called to say he was taking his grandfather to the doctor, and he'd be a few minutes late. In fact, he should be here about the time that goes down." She gestured to his erection with a toss of her head, that smug smile still firmly in place.

"Damn it, Nicki--"

Anything else he'd been about to say disappeared in an instant as something big and black began falling from the rigging above the stage--and straight toward Nicki.

Adrenaline surged, powering his legs. Lunging out of his chair, he ran for her with every ounce of his energy and leaped on her. Her back hit the hard stage with a surprise gasp. He rolled her beneath him an instant before the something big crashed into the stage inches from his left shoulder--where her head had been just moments ago. Glass shattered, colored shards peppering the air. Mark closed his eyes and covered her face with his chest. Electrical sparks zapped, sizzled, then died.

A glance at the object told him it was one of the large overhead lights. The thing had to weigh at least fifty pounds. It would have more than likely killed her.

He tensed, then forced himself to relax.
Safe. Nicki was safe.

Mark let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"What the hell happened?" Nicki asked, panting.

She sounded shocked. He didn't blame her. It was a good question, one at the top of his list, too.

Mark glanced up at all the metal rigging and lights overhead. He saw nothing odd. Nothing swinging loose. No one up on the bridge toying with the lights for the night's show or anything.

"I don't know." He raised up on his elbows and peered down into her face. "Are you all right?"

Nicki might think of herself as tough and gutsy, and she was--most of the time. But underneath it all, he saw glimpses of something else. Something more vulnerable. That had never been more obvious than now.

With an answering nod, she asked, "You saw it coming?"

He shot her a grim nod.

"And--and you got me out of harm's way." She sounded almost surprised.

"I wasn't going to let anything happen to you."

Slowly, she nodded, still panting. "I... Thanks. That would have been one hell of a headache."

"Any idea what caused that?" He stared up into the dark, silent rigging above the stage.

"No." Her voice shook. "We just had some lighting maintenance done yesterday. M-maybe they didn't secure everything when they were done."

It was possible. Accidents happened. If some
one
caused it, they'd somehow crept down and snuck past them, without either him or Nicki being the wiser. That seemed unlikely, and yet... what would have made that light fall suddenly at that particular moment?

"Mark?"

Nicki raised her gaze to his, clinging and wide. She trembled. The connection jolted him down to his toes. Damn it, the woman was as potent to his system as a bottle of tequila on an empty stomach. Beneath him, she was lush and warm.

And safe, thank God. Mark wondered if she knew that her gaze shouted a need for reassurance. Denying that he wanted to touch her--hold her--was pointless. The fact his hips rested squarely between her spread thighs, and his still-hard cock was notched right where he wanted it to be wasn't helping his self-control.

Nicki took the decision from him and pressed her mouth to his with a cry, desperate fingers twined in his hair.

Mark met her and dove in ravenously, tongue dominating the inside of her mouth with one bold stroke. Lust pounded at him, as if he hadn't touched a woman for years. What was it about this woman? Something about her pulled at him. Thinking of Nicki without thinking of sex seemed beyond his capabilities. He needed one night with her, to fuck her and get her out of his system. She provided too much distraction for him to focus on his case, just by being herself.

Nicki threaded her hands into his hair and lifted her hips to his. She was wet. No mistaking the damp humidity of her seeping through her little panties as she pressed against him. The realization pumped any remaining blood from his brain and jetted it south.

All thoughts of focus and investigation ceased.

Shifting, Mark fitted his hands beneath her ass. Firm, bare cheeks? Sweet heaven, she was wearing a thong. The knowledge swept a fresh burst of lust through his system.

He rocked against her, notching his cock toward the top of her pussy, right over her clit. Her gasp, followed by the nails in his back told him he'd scored a direct hit. And still, he kept at her mouth, tasting her, drinking her essence, her passion.

More. He needed more of her.

Lifting one of his hands away from her mostly bare ass cost him, but he used it to push aside her flimsy summer top and her little lacy bra. He tore his mouth from hers to look. Her pert breast and beaded rosy nipple beckoned. He couldn't wait another minute. Another second.

Dipping his head, he captured the hard bud in his mouth and sucked her deep in his mouth, rasping the sensitive flesh with his tongue. Jesus, she was like heaven. Sugar and spice.

Hot, sweet, all woman. He was going to combust if he didn't get inside her soon.

Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, Nicki arched up to him, moaning, "Mark."

Hearing his name on her lips ripped lightning through his body.

"More," she moaned. "Now."

"You like it fast," he observed aloud, pressing his hips down right into her clit.

"Yes."

"Hard."

"Yes."

"And a little bit rough. Don't you?" He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her to look at him.

"Yes." Nicki gasped for a breath, blue eyes sultry, dilated. "Yes."

Good damn thing he did, too.

Even better, since he knew he could get out of his absurd Viking getup in about four seconds. Time to find out how quickly he could get Nicki out of her annoying garments.

Caressing his way from her bare cheek to her hip, Mark found the delicate string that held the two triangles of fabric together and wrapped his fist around it.

Lifting his mouth from her nipple, he stared down into her flushed face and swollen mouth, brimming with satisfaction at her unfocused, dilated eyes. "I'm going to rip these little panties off you, Nicki, then taste you, get inside you..."

She groaned, grabbed his face, and pressed her mouth against his again.

The air around them exploded with sound suddenly--the buzz of an electric guitar, the vibration of rock music turned up to concert-loud levels. Nicki gasped. Mark nearly jumped out of his skin. Next came Joan Jett's mocking voice asking, "Do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch me there?"

The old song was a favorite at the club, particularly when the mood got raunchy, Mark had noticed. He'd never liked the taunting song. He liked it even less right now. Who the hell was playing it?

Nicki righted her top. "What is going on?"

Good question.

Mark rolled to his feet and looked toward the DJ's booth. Blade Bocelli exited the disk jockey's little space with a derisive glance before striding through the club and disappearing upstairs, leaving the snide, pulsing music on full blast.

That son of a bitch!
How long had he stood there like a fucking Peeping Tom, staring at them?