One long, dexterous hand claimed the curve of her hip, the other curved around her neck so that his thumb rested at the base of her throat, just over her throbbing pulse. The bags dropped from her hands, forgotten, and she jumped, euphoric, into the blazing heat of his kiss. Her hands rose to his waist, then skated upward over the long, sinuous muscles of his back. His skin was so incredibly hot beneath her hands—
decadent velvet encasing tempered steel—and she reached for more, greedy now.
The thin, expensive silk of her dress rubbed between their bodies, erotic and taunting, heightening the sensations already overwhelming her. The rigid bulge of his arousal pressed against her, and her body responded, reacting like a chemistry set beneath the magical hands of a Nobel genius. The scent of him, spicy male heat with a hint of motor oil, slipped through her system like a heady aphrodisiac, potent and undeniable.
Cole angled his head, deepening the kiss to the point of devouring her. At her willing surrender, he growled low, exultant. His hands slid over her body, hard and possessive. His knee 143
wedged between her thighs. He surrounded her, overwhelmed her, kissed her utterly senseless, and Alex reveled in his masterful seduction, satisfying her curiosity and whetting her appetite for more. His kiss was intoxicating…
he
was intoxication at its finest. She whimpered again, rubbing against him like a kitten begging for attention.
Alex couldn’t think. She could only feel. And, oh dear Lord, did he feel good! Her knees had turned to water. Thank heaven, his solid body held her trapped against the car, or she’d be sprawled on the concrete. She burned with a fire she’d never known. For a fleeting second, a sharp sting on her lower lip—just where his teeth raked over her flesh—brought her near the surface of reality. But the sensation was gone in a heartbeat, leaving behind the salty, coppery taste of her own blood. In a flash, that, too, was gone, and all she could taste was Cole’s raw hunger. A hunger that raged out of control.
His hips rocked against her, violent and demanding, grinding his rigid staff at that sensitive place between her thighs, and she purred deep in her throat, silky and inviting. Her control, what precious little there had been left of it, snapped. Her hands clutched at him, her breathing ragged. She had to have more of him.
With one hand cupping and kneading her breast, he slid the other down her thigh to grasp at the hem of her skirt, drawing it upward. Her knee slid up the outside of his leg, caressing him, inviting him closer, begging for his touch. His mouth turned voracious, the harsh rumble of pleasure erupting from the back of his throat animalistic, feral. Thrilling.
“They were running low on high performance, but I managed to snag the last case of…” 144
Deacon’s voice trailed away, and he halted just inside the doorway to stare. Styx stumbled into his back, bumping him off balance.
Deacon’s voice cascaded over Alex like a bucket of ice water. She tore her lips from Cole’s and began shoving at his shoulders. Drawing a ragged breath, he eased back only the slightest bit, and reached down between them, readjusting the exceptionally large bulge in his jeans. Alex stared, goggle-eyed with shocked fascination. Her mouth hung open. She lifted her stunned gaze to his, and Cole shot her a wicked grin that coursed itchy need straight into her veins. Once again, the odd glow of his eyes held her bemused and captivated. The way he stared at her, the way his eyes pierced her shot a primitive thrill through her core. Damn the interruption. Damn the return of reality.
Turning, he strutted toward the Corvette at the end of the row of vehicles, leaving her to stare at Deacon and Styx with shame burning her cheeks. Groping blindly at her sides, she retrieved her bags and set out for the house on shaking legs, her eyes affixed on the door Deacon and Styx had just stepped through. The two men moved aside as she passed. Blind as she was, she couldn’t miss the wide, knowing smirks glowing on their faces.
145
Alex stumbled through the house, dazed.
Almost half an hour passed before she regained control of her scrambled wits. This afternoon clearly hadn’t been enough time away from the devastating effect Cole had on her system. Not nearly enough time by half. That torrential kiss in the garage had proven that fact…with alarming clarity.
Holy hell, what had she been thinking?
Answer…she hadn’t been thinking, plain and simple. Long before he’d claimed her lips, she’d lost her mind. That was the problem. Whenever Cole was around, she had a tendency to feel, not think. She needed to get her hormones under control…she wasn’t fifteen anymore. She was a woman full-grown, capable of controlling her baser needs. Capable of making smarter choices for herself. Hadn’t the last time she’d had her fingers burned taught her anything? The last
two
times?
The timely call she’d received from her friend Gina a little while ago, inviting her for a girls’
night out on the town, had been a godsend, the perfect excuse to put a little space between her and the enigmatic singer. She hadn’t seen Gina in six months, not since she’d moved to Seattle to be with her current scoop of the month. With any luck, she’d have ample opportunity tonight to prove to herself Cole held no specific power over her. That her hormones—not some undeniable connection with Cole—were what prompted her to 146
lose control.
She’d looked for him to tell him she was taking tonight off as well, but she hadn’t been able to locate him anywhere. Styx had proven impossible to find as well. So—before she could talk herself out of it—she’d left a note on Cole’s desk, broke out the sexy little red number she’d bought today, and headed for the city.
Club Déjà Vu, Gina had said. The name didn’t ring any bells, but she wasn’t worried about finding it. Gina gave infallible directions. If a blind man got lost in a snowstorm in the middle of some cornfield in Iowa, Gina could have him snuggled up beside a toasty fire in some cozy farmhouse, steaming cup of hot chocolate in hand, inside of ten minutes, all via cell phone half a country away.
Pulling into the parking lot adjacent to her destination, 11011 Cedar Avenue, Alex smiled, not one wrong turn anywhere. Gina hadn’t lost her knack. Getting through the crush of people on the sidewalk took a bit of negotiating, but the security at the door proved pitifully easy. A swish of her slinky red dress, a flash of pearly whites, a coy batting of lashes, and she was in like flint.
Finding Gina proved daunting in the darkened dance club. Alex elbowed her way to the bar, slipping into a narrow wedge of space between a short, unattractive balding man and a leggy, eye-catching woman with a short, curling cap of flame red hair. As Alex lifted her hand to signal the bartender, someone jostled her from behind, and she stumbled against the redhead.
“Sorry about that.” Alex grimaced.
“No problem, it’s a real madhouse in here tonight, isn’t it?” Red reached for her drink. “I’m Madelyn. Come here often?”
“Alex. No, first time. I’m supposed to meet a 147
friend here, though I’ll be lucky if I find her in this crush. You?”
“A couple times. Mostly with friends, though tonight I’m meeting someone in particular.
Actually, I met him here. Sexy bedroom eyes, if you get my meaning. The guys here are
sooo
hot,” the redhead giggled, then she was the one jostled.
A small bit of her drink sloshed over the side of her glass, splattering on her knuckles.
The two women exchanged commiserating smiles, then someone near the door must have caught the redhead’s eye, because she excused herself and moved away, her drink held carefully away from her body. Alex flashed a couple bills, ensuring the rapt consideration of the bartender.
While she waited for her order, a hand landed heavily on her shoulder.
Before Alex could turn, a husky female voice hissed close to her ear. “Hand over the dress, and no one gets hurt.” A smile tugged at her lips.
Turning, Alex found herself the recipient of a bone-crushing hug as Gina gushed in her ear.
“Where did you find that sexy piece of come-and-get-me? My God, I’m so jealous. I may as well go home now, because not a single male eye will be able to turn away from the sight of you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Gina.” Alex feigned a Shakespearian sigh of resignation. “Next to you I am but a sad, pitiful wallflower.”
“You are forgiven, oh pitiful wallflower,” Gina crooned. Then she claimed Alex’s hand and tugged her away from the crush at the bar, over to a table near the dance floor. The two sat for a time, catching up on the last several months over colorful drinks. The music was loud, the air warm and close, the lights dim and pulsing.
As Gina began to ramble, Alex’s eyes scanned the crowd, her finger tracing a line of 148
condensation down the side of her tall, thin glass.
For one heart stopping moment, wild, sun-kissed hair crossed her line of vision, and Cole’s face swam in her mind. Where had he gone tonight?
“So I decided to take the job.” Gina took a long sip of her vibrant, fuchsia beverage, winking at a strapping stud two tables over with eyes like charcoal and skin the color of her favorite latte.
“Wait…” Alex squeezed Gina’s forearm to gain her undivided attention. “What job? I thought you decided Seattle was the only place under the sun where you could be happy. And what happened to what’s-his-name?”
Gina raised a sculpted brow and shook her head. The disgusted roll of her beautiful eyes spoke volumes. “Hell
ooo
o…. Where have you been for the last fifteen minutes? Cuz, sweetie, it sure as certain wasn’t here with me.”
“I’m sorry, Gina, I kind of got lost in the zone,” Alex mumbled, dipping her head to her neon blue drink.
“Maybe
I
should be asking
you
what his name is.”
“Nobody!” Alex blushed at her own furious outburst, even as visions of Cole danced in her head. Taking another sip, she continued in bland tones. “There’s no one, Gina, absolutely no one.”
“Oh, sweetie, puh-leaze don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that pitiful excuse for an ex-fiancé of yours. Girl, he is
so
not worth your time.”
“Good heavens, no,” Alex denied, shuddering.
Then she vowed, “Tell me again, I promise I’ll listen better this time.”
Shooting Alex a discerning, narrow-eyed stare, Gina sniffed. “Why I even bother…” Alex bumped her shoulder to Gina’s, breaking out a sunny smile. “I know, I know. You have 149
such an aversion to talking about yourself. I should be tied to the mast and flogged for asking you to do it again.”
Gina stuck her tongue out in a childish gesture and drained her glass. She waved to a passing waiter before turning amused eyes to Alex. “Okay, condensed version. Shemar was just too full of himself to invest the appropriate amount of attention in me.”
Alex interrupted with a sarcastic snort. “And we all know Gina is the
only
one allowed to be the center of attention…”
Gina scowled archly. “You want to hear this or not?”
Holding her hands up in a defensive motion, Alex leaned away, grumbling, “This is me, shutting up…”
Clearing her throat for dramatic effect, Gina lifted her nose in roya
l disdain. “As I was saying…we didn’t see eye to eye on
certain…aspects of our relationship. And, sweetie, this hair was meant to tolerate only so much rain.” Alex snorted again, and Gina’s eyes narrowed, forcing Alex to bite off the caustic remark before it left her mouth.
“I’ve been putting out feelers, and a friend dropped a good word for me over at Phoenix Records. Seems their receptionist up and quit—
no warning, no notice—just…disappeared.” Gina shrugged, snapping her fingers for effect. “I’ve already put down a deposit on a quaint little condo. Start work Monday.”
Alex could only marvel at Gina’s resiliency.
“That’s terrific, Gina. It’ll be wonderful having you back.”
Gina was too busy flirting with her potential new flame…or at the very le
ast tonight’s entertainment…to give Alex’s
envious
150
congratulations more than a pompous nod.
Gina’s efforts had not gone unnoticed, as the object of her attentions gained his feet, and was, at present, strutting his way to their table.
His unremarkable friend, a tall, lean specimen with a thick curtain of black, silky hair and a dimple in his chin trailed close behind.
Kohl lined his eyes, giving them a bruised and hollow, yet strangely sultry look. His skin was so pale she wondered that he’d seen the light of day in the last decade. Though he didn’t dress Goth, he could pass in every other way. He wasn’t her normal type, but, given how well her instincts had worked out in the past, she was willing to give him a fair chance, or a fair dance at the very least.
An odd prickling sensation fluttered at the nape of her neck when she placed her hand in his, accepting the offer to dance. In short order, the quartet headed for the shadows on the dance floor writhing fluidly beneath a vintage disco ball and strobe lights. Swiping her hand over the back of her neck to dislodge the pesky tickle, Alex stepped into the tall man’s outstretched arms, wordlessly allowing him to draw her close…very close. That prickling turned to a full on, physical itch. As they moved with the rhythm, Alex waited for that breathless, intoxicated sensation to sweep down on her. Any second now, she told herself.
Maybe if she concentrated really hard…
But it wasn’t working. She had no trouble breathing. Her head did not swim, and her heart did not pound. No sparks leaped between them.
There was no sizzle. Only that strange, uncomfortable sensation at the nape of her neck.
Disappointment weighed on her, though she kept a cheerful smile plastered on her lips. Heaven 151
help her, what in the name of blue blazes was wrong with her? Where were her hormones when she needed them?