Sweet Seduction Stripped (8 page)

Eric looked like he might be sick. He swallowed several times, nodded his head determinedly, then reached into his jacket and pulled several items out.

The first was a bracelet. A small, delicate gold chain with a dragon charm hanging off it. There looked to be a ruby in its eye, just like his ring.

"This," he said, leaning forward and placing the bracelet around my wrist, "is your panic alarm. Press the eye of the dragon and I'll know you need help."

I nodded, fascinated at his fingers deftly doing up the catch on the jewellery.

"This," he added, placing a tiny device on the back of the watch I was wearing, "is a tracker. Wherever it goes, I'll be able to follow."

Again, all I could do was nod, craving the next touch of his fingers even if they were just attaching spy-like devices.

"Now this," he said, holding up a slightly larger electronic item, "are my eyes and ears. Place this somewhere discreet, but helpful. Maybe the room you work in, or..." He paused, sucked in a breath. "Or Harding's office if possible. But only if you can do it without being detected. Remember, he'll have cameras throughout the place as well. So make it look natural."

His hand pulled back after placing the bug in mine, fingers brushing purposefully as he moved away. I looked down at the device, noting it resembled security camera domes you found on ceilings. I guessed it had some sort of spanning capabilities, so just needed to be placed where it could take in the entirety of the room.

"It's magnetised," Ric offered. "So, the side of a metal filing cabinet, the grille over an air duct, that sort of thing."

"OK."

"Are you really? OK?" he asked.

I shook my head. "But I will be."

"You're amazing," he whispered. My eyes flicked to his. "And beautiful," he added. And then I think he said something about being so fucking young, but it was mumbled, as though an afterthought, or something he hadn't intended to say aloud.

I checked my watch to break the tension, placed the bug inside my jeans pocket and stood from my chair.

"Thanks," I said, holding out my hand to shake his, feeling like an idiot considering I'd just
been brushing my thigh against his for half an hour.

His lips quirked up at the edges.

"Believe me, Dancer," he rumbled, "the pleasure has been all mine."

I smiled and received a fucking fantastic one back in return.

"You really are one of the good guys, aren't you?" I said.

The smile dimmed, but a wicked glint entered his eyes.

"Sweetheart, in some things I am very, very bad indeed."

And like the slave to all bad-boys that I am, I wanted to get to know that bad side. Very, very much indeed.

Fuck. Fuck. Motherfucking fuck!

I watched as the woman I desperately wanted to protect with my entire being weaved through the intentionally well crowded floor of Sweet Seduction. Gen and Kelly having made sure that they invited all of their very large and extensive list of friends and acquaintances to a free-for-all coffee and chocolate day at the store. Just so I could tag Amber Lane and not be seen clearly from the street.

It had worked. No one stormed in here to pull my way too handsy self off the girl and no one was approaching her as she walked to her car. Ben's voice in my ear letting me know she'd gotten away clean.

I sat back down in the seat at the table and placed my head in my hands. What the motherfucking fuck was I doing? I'd just let a little lamb walk into the big, bad wolf's strip club. Ah, fuck it. If anything happened to her...

I leaned back in the seat letting out a disgruntled and unamused huff. If anything happened to her, I'd just add it to the list of shit to feel guilty about rattling around inside my head.

My eyes landed on a gift bag sitting on the table. It had been here when I arrived, and unless Adam, the bastard, had a sudden fetish for ladies' lingerie, I was betting it was Amber's. I stared at it, as the hustle and bustle in the shop became indistinct. Then before I could think better, like, maybe have a shred of decency left inside my debauched brain, I reached out and peered inside.

Tissue for fucking Africa, but I'd never let something as inconsequential as a piece of crepe paper
get in my way.

My fingers wrapped around a slinky stretchy piece of material, and I pulled it out into the light of the room. Golden glitter and an itty-bitty thong. For a second I just stared and then when my brain finally caught up with my eyes, shot rock fucking hard in my jeans. There was a matching bra, if you could call the flimsy thing a bra. With a quick release catch. Ah, fuck! I was gonna come holding women's underwear in a crowded café owned by my boss's sister-in-law.

I shoved the delightful fantasy inducing items back in the bag just as Nick slid into the seat opposite me. His eyes landed on the package, flicked up to my face, and then turned all knowing.

The prick.

I moved the bag to the seat beside me. That baby was coming home with me. If I couldn't have Amber, I'd at least have her knickers.

Jesus fuck, I was a perverted bastard.

"It's done," I announced, before he could get going on the sex-goddess intimates.

"Good," he said with a head nod. "She solid?"

Soft, curvy in all the right places, smooth, succulent skin.

"Yeah."

"Give up anything?"

The images that phrase evoked were definitely x-rated. I shook my head.

"She's scared and in shock. She had no idea who she was..." Shit. I couldn't say it. I couldn't say the fucking word.
"Living
with," I managed instead.

"You think you know someone," Nick offered.

"And they turn out to be a fucked in the head psychopath," I finished.

"We're close, Eric. This is the closest we've been. It all hangs on her."

Yeah. That was what I was afraid of.

"You better head back," he added. "Start tracking the girl."

"Woman." Ah, fuck it.

"Is that right?" he drawled, leaning back in his seat, one arm outstretched over the back of his chair, the other tapping on the table's surface gratingly. His eyes went to the gift bag beside me. "Leave you a memento, did she, Shaw?"

I ground my teeth.

He laughed, shook his head, and then leaned forward.

"We need her. Don't fuck this up." His voice was light. The words were not.

"I know," I bit out. As if he wasn't pushing that point home relentlessly already.

"Then get that fucking bright brain of yours outta your pants and do your fucking job."

"When have I ever not done my job?" I demanded. Both of us keeping our voices level, non-threatening.

Both of us ready spill blood in a split second.

Nick held my angry stare with a steely one of his own for a moment, then nodded.

I won.

"We'll get her out," he said softly. "But we need this and you know it."

Yeah, I fucking did know it. Nine months and just the odd whisper on the street. Radar abuzz with changes in King's business structure, the upper echelon all shot to hell and rearranged. Hints and innuendoes pointing to Harding, but little else.

We knew,
fucking knew
, the guy was taking over what was left of King's realm. But we had jack shit to show for it.

So young, so innocent - to hell with the fact she danced around a pole to pay her bills - and so fucking sweet. She was in the wrong place; a woman like her should be protected from this shit. Kept safe and warm and loved.

Bloody hell, I was turning into a Hallmark card.

"I'm outta here," I said standing and preparing to leave.

So did Nick. All hands on deck; right now ASI was completely engaged.

"Eric," Nick called, before I could make my escape.

"Yeah, boss," I said over my shoulder.

"It's gonna be a long night, be prepared."

Nick wasn't just talking about the next few hours of pinning Harding down as the new Declan King. He was referring to listening in on Amber while she was with the scumbag murderer himself. I knew what awaited when I returned to ASI control. I knew how important the information Amber was trying to get was.

And I also knew how dangerous her task would be. How lethal. How fucked up it could get.

Amber was heading into the lion's den.

I was heading into hell to watch.

I parked my car next to Jaxon's enormous black tank and stared at my wrist as my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. The dragon charm dangled below my arm, sunlight making the ruby glint. Jaxon would see it immediately. I should really take it off.

Throwing caution to the wind, I reached into the rear of the car and dug around in my gym bag, coming up with my jewellery pouch. Several yellow and rose gold bangles later and the charm bracelet was lost in amongst the delicate jangle of metal sliding halfway up my arm. I was actually smiling when I climbed out of the car.

The moment my eyes landed on Sala standing at the back door to the club the smile fell.

"Morning, ballerina," he drawled as I forced myself to take one step after the other and walk toward the creep.

"Sala," I said in greeting, making to move past the great big oaf.

"Last night was good,
kefe
," he said, reaching out to do God knows what. I didn't wait for him to make contact, but ducked around his bulk and grasped the handle on the door.

Sala was big, but he wasn't slow.

His hand fell on my shoulder and he spun me around, pushing me back up against the door.

"Princess, you don't wanna make an enemy of me," he growled. "Right now, I'm your only fuckin' friend, yeah?"

"Let me go," I ground out, staring daggers at the man. "This will all be on camera and Jaxon will kick your arse," I tried, unsure exactly where the security cameras actually were.

I'd never had to think of them before, my mind was constantly reminding me of what Jaxon could see now. In this instance, I
did
hope he was watching.

"Ballerina, I ain't that stupid."

Could have fooled me.

"Cameras don't reach in here," he added. I realised we were in a little alcove, an overhang to give you cover, if the weather was bad, while you unlocked the door. I tried not to let my fear show. But it was so close to the surface right now, I wasn't sure I pulled a look of nonchalance off.

And when Sala grinned, showing a row of crooked yellowed teeth, I was picking he'd seen every angst ridden emotion that crossed my face.

"Now, how 'bout we schedule a repeat performance. This time I wanna lap dance."

I never did lap dances, I just danced the pole. Except for Jaxon, I'd never strutted my stuff in a guy's crotch before. Sala knew this, he was just being a prize prick.

"How about this, Sala," I said, lifting my chin and holding his greasy stare. "You let me inside this fucking door before Jaxon figures out it's taken too long for me to appear since I exited my car. Wouldn't want him thinking you're harassing his girl, now would we?"

"Ballerina, he don't give no two fucks 'bout you spreading it 'round."

Bullshit. I cocked my hip, crossed my arms over my chest and raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Sala just laughed.

"Amber, he's 'bout to take over the world. All the pussy he wants will be fallin' at his feet."

It was stupid. I lived with the man. Had been his obsession for the past two years. And despite not wanting to have a thing to do with Jaxon Harding and this club ever again, I still felt the sting of Sala's words. Ridiculous.

"Whatever," I spat, turning around and pushing through the unlocked door.

Sala's loud laughter followed me, but thankfully the arsehole didn't.

By the time I reached the clubroom floor my emotions had tumbled out and almost drowned me. Confusion reigning supreme, but there was the ever present fear, angst and now a new vulnerability. Absently I played with the charm on the bracelet Ric had given me as the familiar atmosphere of Champagne & Chandeliers engulfed me.

It was too early for the business to be open, but that didn't mean it was empty. C&C Enterprises' offices were above and behind this space; employees from all departments cut through the clubroom when it was closed. And those tasked with readying the room itself for clientèle were hard at work behind the bar or up on the stage.

Jaxon was sitting on a stool talking to one of his lawyers. A guy named Derek Marks, dressed in a three thousand dollar suit and Ferragamo moccasins. The artificial lights glinted off the pure gold of his watch face as he lifted a hand to grasp his crystal decanter, probably full of ten thousand dollar Scotch.

"Baby," Jaxon purred, standing immediately and cutting the lawyer's words off without any care. He crossed the space between us, a once familiar beaming smile of appreciation gracing his lips.

For a second, an infinitesimal moment in time, I forgot what he was capable of. My heart only remembered the gentle care and focused attention he'd always given.

Then the image of him holding a gun to a man's head and grinning flashed through my mind.

When he enveloped me in an embrace I was trembling.

"Baby, are you cold?" he whispered, kissing up the side of my neck.

Jaxon had never been afraid of showing affection in public. A simple peck on the cheek would never do, he had to practically maul me. Lay claim, shout his possession to the world, while mentally banging fists against his chest like a caveman.

Sala was so full of shit. He'd never share me.

I'd already decided my best chance of defence was to play the "morning sickness" up. So, I  mumbled, "I still feel a little queasy," as I forced myself to wrap my arms around his waist.

"Baby, I'm gonna take good care of you today. You're my girl."

Not anymore, but he didn't know that. I just had to remember to act as if I didn't either.

"Come and take a load off while I finish up with Derek," Jaxon suggested, grasping my small hand in his bigger one. He had callouses, no doubt from hand to hand fist fights. Ric didn't have callouses. His hand had been smooth.

And that wasn't the best way to forget I was no longer Jaxon's. The dawning comprehension that I may already belong to someone else.

Now I really did feel a little nauseous. Good, bad and everything in between.

"You look pale, baby. Did you eat breakfast?" Jaxon asked, helping me onto a stool beside his empty one. Taking such care of me, despite his lawyer waiting patiently to finish business, despite having to run a big corporate company, and a criminal underworld organisation.

It was at times like this that Jaxon was an entirely different man from the one I'd seen in that picture. I'd not doubted the image was true. I'd even, if I was honest with myself, not been overly surprised. Shocked, but in a way it had made sense. The dark he had inside him. The way he had conducted himself.

But why he'd continue to
pretend
failed to compute. I just didn't understand this man.

And that, after everything I'd seen and heard, left me emotionally wrought.

"I can't eat right now," I admitted, the truth, but it played in well with my ruse.

"No good, baby," Jaxon growled, then lifted his chin to Max behind the bar. "Go find something nutritious for Amber to eat." His eyes darted down to mine, the smile one of pure possession. "She's gotta look after herself now. Eating for two."

And that public admission brought about a lengthy groping session, one that didn't help my nausea, nor make Derek the lawyer turn away. He watched on with ill concealed lustful delight, even going so far as to adjust himself openly when Jaxon pulled my t-shirt collar aside and started feasting on my boobs.

Humiliation wasn't something new for me. Entrapment and near pee inducing fear was.

"J..Jaxon," I tried, my bottom lip trembling, my hands shaking as I attempted to get him to back off. His name a quaking stutter falling from my mouth.

"All this is mine, baby," he said, wrapping his lips and tongue around a naked nipple. "Any time, any where, any how. You know that."

The switch that flicked inside him so easily now was attached to detonation device. I did the only thing I could think of to do. I passed the bomb to someone else.

"Jax," I said forcefully. "Derek's perving. It's creeping me out."

It happened so fast. I'd known Jaxon could be quick. But one second his hot, wet tongue was lapping at my breast, the next Derek Marks was bleeding from a broken nose, crumpled on the floor.

I should have felt bad. I'd intentionally used him to distract Jaxon. But I couldn't find it in my terror filled state to care for a scumbag lawyer who helped a criminal hide his crimes.

Until Jaxon kicked the guy in the balls while he was too busy trying to stop the blood at his nose. The agonised scream that followed made me whimper. In fright. In compassion. With guilt.

I gripped the edge of the bar top as Jaxon loomed over Marks, the lawyer curled up in the foetal position, as if that would protect him now. He realised the futility of his action when the cold hard metal of a gun muzzle rested against his cheek.

This was the world I'd willingly stepped into and until today I hadn't really cared.

I cared now.

I was so shit scared.

"You getting off on my woman?" Jaxon snarled, digging the gun muzzle harder into Derek's cheek. "Too fucking pathetic to get your own?" Spittle fell from his lips as the words grated off his tongue. "She's the mother of my fucking child, shithead. You look at her again and I will blow your fucking head off. Understand?"

Marks nodded his head furiously, blood, saliva and tears landing in wet splats on the polished wooden floor.

"Fucking miserable piece of shit," Jaxon growled, thankfully putting his weapon away. The movement quick and efficient, as though he'd done it a million times before.

A shudder racked through my frame at the reminder of what had been happening behind my back, in front of my blind eyes. How had I not seen the truth? What the hell was wrong with me?

"Baby, shhh," Jaxon murmured, tucking some of my hair behind my ear.

His hands cupped my jaw, lifting my face up to his. I hadn't realised I'd been silently crying, tears trickling down my cheeks. I blinked up at the monster before me, my body quivering, my heart palpitating and my mind trying to shut down.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you," he whispered, kissing the tracks of my tears. "I'll always be here to protect you," he added, softly brushing his lips across mine.

I was so numb, so lost, so alone, that I didn't even flinch.

"Tell me," he demanded softly. "Tell me, baby, I gotta hear the words."

I knew what he wanted. I knew I had to say them. And as the words left my lips I felt a part of me just switch off, collapse. Fail.

"I love you," I rasped, my throat threatening to close.

"Yeah, baby," he agreed. "I'm your man and you're my girl, right?"

I nodded, no longer feeling a thing.

"Give your man a kiss, then," he ordered, his fingers tightening over my cheeks.

I followed the command meekly, receiving a growl of contentment from the back of his throat as I pressed my lips to his. Jaxon gripped my hair, pulled back on it to tilt my head, and with his free hand forced my jaw open, so his tongue could delve inside.

I thought I'd stopped feeling. Oh, how very wrong I was.

Rage and disgust consumed me, I reacted by biting his bottom lip and drawing blood.

Kiss me, would he? The lying, manipulative, murderous bastard.

My back was pressed up against the bar top, my neck exposed with a harsh tug on my hair and then his lips were there; bruising, marking, biting, breaking skin and blood vessels, leaving his signature behind.

He pulled back panting, his eyes a steel-blue, bordering on grey. One more sharp tug on my hair, his face marred with a furious passion and then he began slowly laughing. It built, a crescendo of sound that filled me with absolute terror.

Oh, dear God. I had to escape. I had to run. I had to leave now or this madman would lose what tenuous hold he had on his sanity and slice a knife across my neck, put a bullet in my brain. Right then, in that second, I wasn't thinking about my ailing father and what would befall him. I wasn't thinking about ASI's attempts to bring a devious man to his knees and save lives. I wasn't thinking of anyone else but me. Selfishly. Greedily. Desperately.

The will to survive was too great to contemplate anyone else's agendas but mine.

Escape. Freedom. As far from this insanity and horror that I could get.

As far from Jaxon Harding and this world that I could get.

"Baby, you make me burn," Jaxon purred, finally reining in his laughter. "You set my blood alight. All I wanna do is fuck you hard when you get your claws out."

He stepped closer. The movement ominous and a threat, his features only amused and lustful. I couldn't get an accurate reading on this man. The only answer I had was he was crazy. Out of his fucking mind. Mad.

"You bite me one more time," he murmured, "and I won't be held accountable for my response. Wanna bend you over that stool and take my time, but I got business and you look like shit, and your addictive pussy is just gonna have to wait until tonight. When I can spend those heated hours right before dawn feasting on your body, making you scream my name loud enough for the whole damn city to hear. Spilling myself inside you until you're so full up I gotta coat your body with me instead."