“God, sweetie. I’m better than okay. My leg is fine, hasn’t felt this good in weeks. Give me one second and then I’ll take care of you.”“Relax. I’ll take a rain check.”“Excuse me?”“You heard.” “Well, sorry, Detective, but you’ve got the wrong idea. I don’t issue rain checks. This is a onetime offer.”The mattress creaked again as bodies moved. Someone got up from the bed. “Nah, I don’t think so. See, Annabelle, I’m onto you. Whether you know it or not, you’re trying to pin me into a catch-22. You won’t trust a man unless you can lead him around by his dick. But as soon as you can, you lose respect and interest. Me, I plan on holding your interest.”“That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard. For the record, I’m not the least bit interested, and your dick just missed out on the best ten minutes of its sad little life.”“We’ll see.” Anaisse couldn’t quite suppress a smile at how confident he sounded. Then her eyes rounded as he went on. “Just to establish some all-important t
Stomach churning with dread, she made her way across the still-crowded club to the VIP room and tried to mentally prepare for the next phase of the plan. She took a deep breath and slipped inside. There he sat, looking so big and tough and good, she suddenly longed for the days when all she had to do was straddle his lap, strip off a few articles of clothing, and touch him to her heart’s content. When their eyes met, his darkened, hinting maybe he had the same thought.Then he began a long, slow perusal of the slutty schoolgirl, starting with her patent leather Mary Jane platforms, ascending along her black thigh-high stockings, sweeping up the twin bands of skin exposed between the tops of the stockings and the bottom of her very short pleated plaid skirt.She sauntered over and straddled him with a bravado she didn’t feel. His gaze snagged on the hot pink panties visible beneath the hiked-up hem of her skirt, and despite her worry over this so-called plan, her trigger-happy hormones
Tommy hated emergency rooms. He hated getting scanned and stitched. He hated concussions. Most of all, he hated Ryan telling him the perpetrator got away.The only thing he didn’t hate was having Anaisse glued to his side whenever some nurse, doctor, or technician wasn’t shooing her away so they could inflict more torture on him. Of course, he gladly would have traded her worry and guilt for less tear-inducing emotions, but one thing seemed fairly obvious to him, even with his somewhat fuzzy head. She cared a lot, whether she liked it or not.By the time the ER finally spat him out, the sun had dawned skull-splittingly bright against a cloudless, electric blue sky in the City of Dreams. Despite his protests, he found himself propped between Anaisse and Ryan and walked to the curbside pickup/drop-off zone like a ninety-year-old invalid. Seeing the yellow Bug pulled up to the curb improved his mood slightly. He liked his ride home, at any rate.Anaisse ran around to the driver’s side wh
Shaking her head, she hugged his shoulders and pressed her lips to his neck, his jaw, along his cheekbone, and finally, unbelievably soft, delicate kisses around the edge of the bandage at his right temple. Suddenly feeling incredibly alive, he raised his chin and intercepted those restless lips. Their mouths fused, and she stilled, sighed brokenly, and sank into him.Within seconds, they were panting and pulling at her clothes. He dragged her wet shirt over her head and tossed it. It landed with a slap against the tiled floor, but he barely noticed. He was too absorbed in the sight of her—her breasts encased in a wet, white, completely transparent bra. When he cupped those breasts and lifted them, taking their weight, her head tipped back and her thighs tightened around his hips.Needing to taste her skin, he popped the front clasp and watched warm, smooth flesh burst free of the sodden confines. “Closer,” he whispered, and with an arm behind her back, he brought one straining pink n
Tommy was the one who had suffered a concussion, so Anaisse wasn’t really sure why she felt so light-headed. But she did. From the moment she’d seen him standing beside the tub, all roughed up and naked, he’d stolen her breath and left her equilibrium asking which way was up. Even now, lying beside him in his big bed with her head cushioned in the curve of his shoulder and afternoon sunlight filtering in through wooden shutters, she couldn’t seem to draw the right amount of air into her lungs. Her head felt as weightless as the dust motes floating in the sunbeam slanting across the foot of the bed.After mind-blowing sex, he’d switched things up, holding her captive with his molten gaze while his hands traveled intimately, yet innocently, over her skin and hair, bathing her. She’d returned the favor, reveling in the vitality of his body.She could happily revel forever, drifting along blissfully as his fingers threaded lazily through her hair, and his heart pounded strong and steady b
By the time she pulled into her driveway, she’d figured only one thing out—the questions were too complex to resolve during a drive home, especially with her nerves shot and her body craving sleep. The rest of the day would be quiet and calming, she promised herself as she trudged upstairs. Her heart leaped into her throat when the front door suddenly swung open and she confronted a lean, muscular chest encased in a dark blue T-shirt. A quick tilt of her head brought Ian’s amused face into view.He stepped out onto the landing. “Hey, Anaisse . How’s the patient?”Dazed by his presence, she traded places with him. “Fine. Um, resting comfortably. Is Annabelle okay?”His grin stretched into a wry smile. “She’s a little pissed. Probably my fault. Don’t worry though, she’ll level out once she realizes I’m right and stops fighting the inevitable.” He jogged down the stairs, calling, “See you later.”“Later,” Anaisse parroted, still bemused by his presence and his strange, cocky pronouncemen
Somehow, during the course of weighing her options, she bypassed BJ’s, crossed West Avenue, and worked her way along Morato Street. Without really thinking things through, she found herself parked in front of Tommy’s house. Apparently, some appetites trumped others.Would it be so wrong to indulge the craving? Be like Stacy for once, take what she wanted, and get on with her life. She couldn’t afford more. That much she knew. Allowing herself to fall for Tommy threatened to turn her from a determined, goal-oriented woman to a clinging basket case, completely dependent on him for her happiness and sense of fulfillment.Annabelle’s usual approach to physical intimacy represented her only viable option aside from abstinence. Comparing twenty-three years of abstinence to a couple of nights with Tommy, she could say with utter certainty, abstinence sucked.Lights shone through the windows facing the street, making it easy to see his Land Cruiser in the driveway. While she sat there, debati
He’d meant to sound flippant, but he could tell by her guilty expression he’d missed his mark. Shit. This was a new experience for him, being the one who wanted a relationship, while the other person adamantly didn’t. As if that wasn’t painful enough, he had to go and advertise his wounds with acerbic comments. She’d never second-guess her decision if he whined and picked at her, and he’d lose all respect for himself in the process. Reaching deep for patience and dignity, he got up, swept her sweats from the floor, and tossed them to her. “Come on. I’ve got an extra pair of chopsticks with your name on them.”She relaxed and smiled, as he’d intended, and shimmied into her pants—which he’d also intended, but nonetheless regretted a little. Taking her hand, he led her out of the bedroom.Dinner ended up being a comfy, cozy picnic on his living room sofa. Tucked snugly into one corner with her knees drawn up, Anaisse peered at him from over the cardboard container of sweet-and-sour veggi
He slipped the ring on her finger, climbed onto the bed, and swept her into a kiss. By the time he was done, her head spun more than a little, and there was a strange clapping sound assaulting her ears. “Ignore them,” he whispered, cupped her jaw, and lowered his head for another kiss.Confused, she looked beyond him, toward the door. Val, Ginger, Ariana, Lee Anne, Anaisse, and Tommy gathered just beyond the threshold, clapping.“About time, Snowflake,” Ginger called.“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ryan called, never taking his eyes off her. His smile held wicked intent.The door whooshed closed.“I’m injured,” she warned as he moved in.“I’m careful.” He traced the front opening of her hospital gown, barely grazing her flesh.“I guess you are,” she managed, as his fingers parted the gown.“And creative.” As proof, he tapped the bed-adjust button and eased her into a more reclined position.She raised a brow at him. “A nurse could walk in here at any moment to check on me
The light hum of female voices registered first, followed by the smell of roses and lilies. Annabelle lay still for a moment, kept her eyes closed, and did a quick physical inventory. Toes? Check. Fingers? Check. Head still attached to the shoulders? Check.Best she could tell, all parts were present and accounted for. She felt stiff and groggy like she’d been asleep for a week, but nothing too alarming. A vague impression of Ryan holding her hand and telling her not to worry about anything danced through her mind, but she couldn’t say for sure whether that was memory or wishful thinking. She racked her brain for something more. Other images formed—a nurse with a short brunette bob offering her water. Anaisse smiling through tears while helping brush her teeth and hair—but no Ryan Ferrer.Deciding to chance a look around, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sunlight streamed through an unfamiliar window, below which sat a metal cabinet holdi
Ryan hurried down the passageway toward the stage, hugging the wall and keeping his steps quick and light. He doubted anyone would hear him coming over the noise of the party, but he didn’t plan on leaving it to chance.The passageway widened at the back of the stage. A retractable metal security gate spanned the stage to prevent anyone from moving the festivities to the backstage area. The blackout curtain hung just beyond the security gate. He wrapped his hand around a slat and gave the gate a shake, testing it. Fully secure, with very little give. No one had slipped into or out of the backstage area through there. He worked his fingers between the slats, moved the curtain aside, and looked out. A sea of zombies, ghouls, princesses, and pirate wenches danced under flashing purple lights. Nothing unusual.His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. A text from Tommy read, At the back door. Wait for me. For a nanosecond, he considered waiting, because, pro
Detective Ryan FerrerRyan bit back a curse as he examined the broken lock. Kicked in? He pulled his gun and crept through the door, keeping it low. Since nobody shot him in the head the moment he cleared the threshold, he swept left with his gun, then right. No sign of anyone.He straightened, stuck his gun into the back of his jeans, and debated his choices. Val’s office and the dancers’ dressing room were down the hallway to the left. The hallway on his right led to the stage, and beyond that, another narrow hall led to the back door of the club.Instinct told him to go right since that direction ultimately led to an exit. He shot off a text to Tommy. The door’s busted. Get back here. Don’t bring Anaisse. He didn’t wait for a reply, just tucked the phone in his pocket and started down the hall, scanning in every direction as he went. A few steps along, he glanced down and froze. What the hell…? He crouched and picked up a small white feather.His heart thundered in his chest. Annab
Oh, no. No one would see them up there. “I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.” Also, she was in no condition to scramble up a straight-vertical ladder. Numb hands, shaky legs, and the unrelenting pain in her side made the climb risky.She released a shuddery breath when the pressure of the gun disappeared from the center of her back. Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed infinitesimally, just knowing the damn thing wasn’t poised to blow a hole through—The cold, unforgiving metal pressed against her temple, scattering her thoughts like seagulls. She heard the click of the safety release.“Climb or die.”“Okay, okay.” The words scraped along her tight, dry throat. Turned out her fear of bullets trumped her fear of heights. She clasped the nearest rung in a bloody grip. “I’ll climb.”Working her way up the ladder took even more effort than she’d anticipated. Escape scenarios cart-wheeled through her mind too quickly for her to get a solid hold on any one plan.Stay calm. Easier thought than
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Annabelle, where are you? Ryan cut a path through zombies, mummies, and vampires, scouring his search area for any sign of her. There was none. To compound his apprehension, his phone remained frustratingly silent. The secret hope he’d harbored that she’d sneaked away to a stall in the ladies’ room to put herself together and curse him to hell and back waned with each passing second.If anything happened to her, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. His hand shook as he shoved it through his hair, pulling hard at the roots until his scalp screamed. They had to find her. End of discussion. There was no way his last interaction with the love of his life could take place in a back room at a strip club, her staring at him with a heartbreaking expression on her face, saying, “I’m sorry.”Absolutely not. He’d find her. And when he did, he’d sit her down and they’d have an honest talk—no more games or tactics. He’d ask her, point-blank, what the hell part of their relationship
Now Tommy turned and looked at him. “She doesn’t have her phone.”“What?” True, Annabelle hadn’t been carrying hers either, but Anaisse was the responsible twin.“You saw what she’s wearing. You think she’s got a BlackBerry built into her shoe?”“I was hoping.”“Sorry to burst your bubble. I don’t suppose Annabelle told you what she did on her way in to the party?”The bad feeling came back. Stronger. “She said something about handling her pen pal.”“She scooped him. He threatened to reveal that she used to strip for a living. Annabelle decided to break the news herself, so she rolled out of the limo this evening and held herself a press conference, during which she mentioned she’d spent two years dancing at Phoenix.”He felt the color drain out of his face. “Holy shit. Exactly why am I not supposed to be worried yet?”Tommy shrugged but returned to inspecting the crowd. “She could be right. Now that he’s got no hammer to hold over her, he’ll lose interest.”“Maybe. Or could be he’ll
The insult stung. Did he really think he’d fooled her up until they’d danced? Like she only recognized him by the feel of his cock? “I knew it was you the minute I saw you. Letting you think otherwise was just”—she lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug—“an entertaining little game. But the game is over and, ultimately, doesn’t change what I want.”Apparently, she could sting him back, because his eyes narrowed. Then he ground his hips against hers until she bit her lip and moaned.“You’re sending mixed signals, Annabelle. You don’t know what you want.”Sadly, she did—she wanted far too much, more than he’d offered—but her stupid, traitorous hips lifted, seeking more from him.“Careful. The condom…” He reached down between them and pinched the base of his erection, holding the latex in place. But when he started to pull out, she panicked.“Don’t.” Her hands flew down to his hips, and her fingers dug in to hold him still. Don’t leave me empty. Not yet.“Annabelle…” He swore under his br
Annabelle rode out the last trembling aftershocks from the mind-numbing orgasm—the kind of full-body meltdown only Ryan could deliver. Shaky, sweaty, and tingling like she’d been struck by lightning, she barely registered when he lifted her and put her on his lap. She opened her eyes and immediately tumbled into his. Dammit. He pinned her with an expression she couldn’t fully read, but made her heart want to flip over in her chest and expose its soft underbelly. Which only proved she was, in fact, her own worst nightmare. No faceless stranger could lay claim to the title. She held that honor all on her own.Was that what you were looking for, Angel? He’d spoken quietly, but she heard the test in his voice as if daring her to push him even one more inch.Oh, she dared. Pushing him was about the only thing she dared do at this point because she knew full well her resolve would collapse like a house of cards if she came clean about their charade. And God only knew what confessions would