Seduction Page 4

  She’s in the deep end with her arms raised over her head, hanging on to the edge of the pool, watching me. I’m fantasizing about what I’m minutes away from doing to her. She’s not safe right now. I stalk closer, my heart thundering. I’m conflicted. I jump in and head straight for her. She squeals and tries to escape. I’m into the chase. Three strokes and I’m at the shallow end before she reaches it. She stands feet away, slicks her long, wet hair back, and stares at me all glassy-eyed. Then she swims in the opposite direction. I let her go for a second, then pursue her. By the time she reaches the deep end again, she’s cornered.

  She bites her bottom lip seductively before she disappears underwater. I watch her lithe body glide by. I want her in the shallow end. My eyes widen when she reaches the wall and stands up. The water is only waist deep. Her breasts are fully exposed, and water cascades down her flat stomach and thighs. I give a slow, disbelieving shake of my head as I advance. And to think ten minutes ago I was close to letting this one go. But I don’t care anymore. She opened this door and I’m coming in. My gaze locks on her breasts. Her dusky nipples are pierced with small-gauge gold dumbbells. Beautiful. There’s a delicate thorn wreath tattooed around her belly button. And a Bengal tiger tattooed on her inner left thigh—I wonder what that symbolizes. Guess I’ll find out. I’m three feet away now. She’s trembling even though the pool is heated. Her eyebrows furrow when I stop in front of her. She’s wedged between me and the wall.

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Kiss me again,” she whispers.

  On a growl, I scoop her into my arms. Her lips are parted and I claim that sweet mouth, demanding all of her. My fingers find her nipples and I tug gently on both piercings. She lets out a moan. I release her mouth and ravage her breasts with my tongue, swirling circles around her areolas, occasionally biting the end of her barbells and tugging with my teeth. I feel a ripple of pleasure go through her. “Come here, baby.” I spin her around and she wraps her legs around my waist. I clutch her ass with both hands.

  I tear my lips away from her mouth long enough to trail hot, wet kisses down her throat. I back her against the wall and press my erection into her stomach. Her eyes flutter open—there’s no mistaking that look. She’s afraid. She should be—she’s driving me fucking crazy. Marisela is breathless; I feel her heart pounding against my chest. My hand slips between her legs and I gently cradle her snatch. I feel her heat and throw my head back. It’s too much.

  We’re going inside. “Hold on tight,” I tell her. She wraps her arms around my neck and clamps me with her thighs. I stand up and head for the steps. I kick the doors open. We leave a water trail up the stairs. I don’t give a shit. I lay her on my bed. I pause to fully appreciate what’s in front of me. I shake my head—she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, put together like the statue on my mantel. I want her so fucking bad.

  I immediately relieve her of her shorts. Her snatch is shaven clean—I lick my lips. I kneel at the foot of the bed and drag her bottom to the edge. I’m eye-to-eye with her glistening wet paradise. I gaze at her tiny lips, then tickle the outside of her slit with the tip of my tongue. She nearly jumps off the bed. I laugh inwardly. This is going to be a long, slow seduction. I stand and then lean forward, covering the lower half of her body with mine. I gaze up at her.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No.”

  Everything has to be perfect. I slide up her body, then kiss her. She’s all over me, grabbing my ass, digging her long fingernails into my back. I grab two fistfuls of her hair and ram my tongue deeper inside her mouth. Her hips jerk. I grind against her, my cock jammed between our bodies. She’s clearly inexperienced, but there’s something untamed inside her. I see it in her eyes, feel it every time she jolts against me. This has exceeded mere infatuation. I want her more than any other woman I can remember.

  I want to know everything about her.

  Slowly, I kiss my way down her torso. I love her pert little nipples, the shape of her innie belly button, her slim arms, and that snatch. I can’t stay away from it. “Can you slide up for me, baby?” I have a custom-made mattress. She scoots up until her head smacks the headboard. I smile—she eyes me suspiciously. “It’s all right,” I gently reassure her. “Let me make you feel good.” She lies back and I spread her legs wider.

  I skim the outside of her mound with my tongue, penetrating her with one finger at the same time. Her legs quake, but I pin them down. Judging by her reactions, no matter what I do, she’s going to try and squirm her way off the bed. If I were the beast I usually am, I’d grab the silk straps from my dresser drawer. Just the thought excites me and I push her physical limits a little farther. I lick her violently—relentlessly—until she cries out. I slip a second finger inside her, suckling her clit. She wiggles. I growl and squeeze her thigh. My face is covered with her sweet juices. I withdraw my tongue halfway and thrust deeper. I do it again. Again.

  “Craig …”

  I want her to scream my name. I suck her nub into my mouth. Her shaking legs register a ten on the Richter scale.

  “Craig …”

  I capture her orgasm with my mouth. I raise my head—she’s satiated, her pretty face flushed with pleasure. It’s my turn to do what I’ve wanted since the moment I spied her heart-shaped ass in those tight leathers at the club. I want to sink my dick so deep inside her she won’t be able to walk for a week.

  I drift down the bed and then open my nightstand drawer. She’s watching, but I don’t want her to see my condom collection. I grab a Trojan BareSkin and open the wrapper.

  Before I get it on, she’s beside me, staring down. “Do you want to touch me?” I ask. I guide her hand between my legs and bite my tongue when her tiny hand tries to close around me. She strokes gently—but I’m not in the mood for anything else but old-fashioned copulation. Now.

  My phone rings.

  I lean in and give her a long, sensuous kiss. It feels too good.

  The phone rings again.

  She lies back and I kiss my way down her side.

  It rings again. Goddamnit. I know the drill. There’s an emergency at the club. If I don’t answer, they won’t stop calling. I hear my cell downstairs. The house phone rings again. “Shit.”

  “You’d better answer,” Marisela says.

  I crawl to the other side of the bed and pick up. “This better be good.” It’s Darren Starr, the owner of the Devil’s Den. “Three Banditos? One’s threatening to set the club on fire?” I gaze heatedly at Marisela. “I’ll be right there.” I slam the headset down.

  “Baby.” I’m pissed. “Will you wait here for me?”

  She looks at my alarm clock. “I can’t—it’s already five and Robyn wants me home for dinner by six. I’ll call her and get a ride to pick up my bike.”

  I fist my hands. I can’t believe we’re ending it here. I need to be inside her. I want to kiss and lick her all night. I want to make her squirm and scream. I want to fuck the memory of her ex right out of her pretty head. “I’ll stop by your sister’s house after I’m done at the club.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “What?” I look at her incredulously. “Why not?”

  “I may not be home tonight.”

  It hits me hard. I want to finish what we started. Where’s she going? “Plans?”

  “No,” she says. “I want to go for a long ride after dinner.”

  The only ride she needs is underneath me. I don’t like what I’m feeling, but I shake it off. “Come on, baby, we need to get dressed.” I watch her scoot down the hallway to the guest room. I’m gonna kill Darren if the Banditos don’t get to him first.

  Chapter 5

  I’m not in the mood to deal with Darren or bikers. I storm inside the club and find my boss and Sargent sitting together, having drinks like nothing happened. Where’s the immediate threat?

  “You made it, Craig.” Darren smiles.

  I don’t return the friendly l
ook. “Where’s the fire?”

  “I offered Sargent a two-hundred-dollar bar tab and we’re buddies again.” Darren slaps him on the back.

  More and more, the club is becoming a regular hangout for these guys. A couple of their old ladies keep trying to get hired. I don’t have a problem with them generally, but when they get shit-faced, it’s not pretty. They raise hell, sell drugs, and like to recruit our dancers to work at their club down the street. That’s where I draw the line. I walk casually behind Sargent and stare at the bandage on the back of his head. Stitches. I knew it. I’m sure he wants to know the identity of the girl who assaulted him.

  I claim the seat next to Darren. “Rum and Coke,” I tell Glenda.

  “Rough morning?” Darren asks.

  I lick my dry lips. “Unfulfilled.” That’s an understatement. I’m horny and pissed off at the world right now.

  Sargent lifts his eyebrows. “Nothing personal about the other night.”

  The closest thing to an apology I’m going to get from him. I wave my hand. “No problem.”

  “Although Sargent would like to know who cracked his head open with a bottle.” Darren stares at me. I’m surprised Sargent opened his big mouth. Perhaps he did it to force my hand.

  “Don’t know her name,” I lie.

  “He doesn’t want to hurt her,” Darren says. “He wants to hire her.”

  “As what, a bouncer?”

  The biker throws his head back and laughs. All I need is for Marisela to end up dancing at that roach-infested shit box. Divas is really a front for drugs. But it’s a hotspot. If you can get over the low-caliber women who work there.

  “She’d make a great entertainer.” Sargent drinks a shot.

  “What makes you think I won’t try to recruit her myself?” I ask.

  “I’ll consider it a personal favor if you don’t.”

  “How about we let the lady choose for herself—if she ever shows up again.”

  “She will,” he mutters.

  “Play nice,” Glenda says as she serves me. “We don’t even know who she is.” She throws me a measured look.

  “We caught everything on tape,” Darren announces like a stupid asshole. “I must say, she reminds me of—”

  “You can’t rely on grainy black-and-white imagery to identify someone.” I cut him off. He rubs his chin and gazes at Sargent.

  “We’ll let you know if we figure it out.” Darren offers his hand. Sargent shakes it, then stands. “Fair enough?”

  “The sooner the better,” he grunts, scooping his gloves and keys off the bar. I watch him leave.

  As soon as the door shuts, Darren twists around on his bar stool. “You know something.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “So do you.”

  “Robyn’s kid sister?”

  “The one and only.”

  “She’s a hot piece of tail,” Darren comments, sipping his vodka tonic. “Does she need a job?”

  I rub the back of my neck. I want to say no. But if Marisela is determined to dance, she’s better off here where we can protect her. “Yeah.”

  “You seem disappointed.”

  “She’s a nineteen-year-old kid.”

  Darren chuckles. “Not according to Texas state statute…”

  My heated gaze flicks to his face. “Point taken.”

  “Bring her in. I want to meet her.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.” Darren drops a ten-spot on the bar for Glenda and leaves.

  It’s my day off, damn it. That reminds me…I lean forward and grab my wallet out of my back pocket. I pull out a hundred and fling it on the bar. Glenda glances at the bill, then at me.

  “Need change?”

  “Nope.” I frown. “Paying a debt.”

  “You didn’t…” She’s astonished. I want to slap the silly look off her face. “You seduced that poor girl already?”

  The mere mention of seduction makes me hard again. I reach below the bar and adjust myself. I won’t lie to Glenda. “Came pretty damn close.”

  “Apparently not close enough,” she teases. “You’re worse than a grizzly bear today.”

  “It’s my day off.”

  She’s mulling something over. “And you and Marisela were…The phone calls. Shit. Sorry.”

  I begrudgingly make a confession. “It’s probably better we didn’t.”

  That catches her attention. “I never thought I’d live to see the day Craig Hanson admits he made a bad decision.”

  I throw the straw from my drink at her. “She’s different.”

  “Space-creature-with-three-nipples different or there’s-more-to-her-than-what’s-between-her-legs different?”

  I’m not prepared to answer. “Be satisfied with different.” I stand. “I need to get out of here.”

  —

  I’m quiet through dinner. Garrick and Robyn throw a dozen worried looks my way, whisper, stuff forkfuls of steak and vegetables in their mouths, then stare at me again. I can’t take it anymore. “What?”

  “Just wondering where you’ve been all day,” Garrick says. “Robyn told me you went shopping but didn’t come home with any clothes. Do you need money?”

  I swirl my peas and carrots around on my plate with my fork. More questions. “I didn’t find anything I liked.”

  Robyn snorts. “Since when does a Gonzalez girl leave the mall empty-handed?”

  “Since she’s learned the hard way that’s there’s more to life than material possessions.”

  “Ouch,” Garrick says. “We’re only trying to help.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m broke and need to get some work soon.”

  “Marisela, have you danced before?” Robyn asks.

  “I did a couple of guest sets at clubs in Austin.”

  Robyn is surprised. “And you liked it?’

  “I like the money.” I don’t realize how cold I sound until after I’m done speaking.

  What I really want is to be able to confide in them. Tell them about Estevan, or, as I prefer to call him, the unmentionable. He doesn’t deserve a name. He never deserved me. I loved him. Enough to abandon my dreams and follow him wherever he went. Only once we arrived in Austin, everything changed. His family didn’t want me around. So I was forced to scrape together a living in a big city where I didn’t have any connections.

  Garrick’s rugged features go soft when he looks at me again. “Your sister and I want you to be happy, Marisela. In order for that to happen,” he says, “a little honesty is required. Understand? It’s the first thing I expected from your sister when our relationship turned serious, and it’s the first thing I expect of you if we’re really going to be a family.”

  I’m humbled by his kindness; he’s such a gentle giant. “I understand.”

  “Good,” he says. “Robyn told me about your ex-boyfriend.”

  I glare at my sister. Some things are sacred. Especially discussions about guys.

  “Don’t give her attitude,” Garrick warns. “I demanded to know everything. Safety is number one where my family is concerned. You always have a home here with us.”

  “Try to understand,” Robyn adds.

  I look away, searching for something to hold. My hands get restless when I’m nervous.

  “You alluded to some abuse…is this guy a threat?”

  I try to ignore him, but I feel his heavy stare on me. Goddamnit. Maybe I should leave the state. “Yeah, to me.”

  Robyn stands, then walks around the table. “Did he hit you?”

  “Too many times to count.” They want truth—I’ll give it.

  “I’ll kill him,” she gasps. “Where? How?”

  “Specifics?” I ask.

  “Specifics,” Garrick repeats angrily.

  “Let’s see…” I pause for dramatic flair. “One night when he and his teammates were drunk, they made me play strip poker. After I refused to take off my bra and panties, Estevan tied a noose around my neck and made me strut around his basement for over an hour
in front of everyone.”

  An agonizing hush follows. Tears sting my eyes. I can’t focus on anything but the rising pain in my belly. “Want more?”

  No answer.

  “On another occasion, after I’d been fighting him off for three hours, he stripped me naked, tied me to a chair, turned the air-conditioning as high as he could get it so I’d freeze, and then dumped gallons of ice water over my head. He told me if I was going to disobey him, he’d shame me. There are endless examples, between his alcohol binges and coke parties.”

  I hear a noise in the living room. We all turn. Craig is standing in the doorway, his face as shadowed as my brother-in-law’s. “Oh. My. God.” I avert my eyes. As denigrated as I feel recounting these horror stories to my family, having my would-be lover overhear everything exceeds my emotional fortitude. I race upstairs.

  —

  There’s a lump in my throat as I watch Marisela retreat. I heard everything. And I feel as small as a flea. Garrick and Robyn look shattered. “The front door was open,” I explain. “When no one answered, I invited myself in.”

  “How much of the conversation did you overhear?” Garrick asks, running his fingers through his hair. “Not that it changes anything.”

  “Enough to want to kill the son of a bitch.”

  Robyn sighs, then sits. She’s pale and thin. And I know Marisela’s situation will dominate her thoughts until she’s sure her sister is safe. “It’s good to see you, Craig.”

  I walk over and give her a gentle hug. She’s quivering. “It’ll be all right, I promise.”

  “Imagine you telling me that,” she laughs sadly.

  I’m not so sure they’d want me here if they knew what happened this afternoon. After hearing Marisela’s heart-wrenching stories, I’ve decided to share some of what I know. “We need to talk.”

  “Sit.” Garrick motions to an empty chair.

  “Marisela spent the day with me,” I confess. The room is quiet, save the strained breaths I hear Robyn taking. “While we were having lunch, she received several phone calls from her ex.”