Blue Skies (9 page)
Authors: Adrianne Byrd
“Niecy, I don’t think this was a good idea,” Sydney shouted, tugging on the hem of her skirt which stopped at mid thigh.
“Why?” Niecy bounced to the rhythm. “This place is jumpin’ and we look hot.”
To support her declaration, two men with overly buffed bodies crowded their space and leered down their plunging necklines.
“Wanna dance?” One with an LL Cool J smile asked and then slid an arm around Sydney’s waist before waiting for an answer.
Sydney pried his arms off. “No.”
“Yes,” Niecy countered and jabbed Sydney sharply in the side.
“What the-?”
“Dance with the man,” Niecy urged with a shove.
Before Sydney could think her body was rammed against the stranger. His beautiful smile widened but his overpowering cologne was almost enough to do her in.
“I-I don’t dance,” she stammered and tried to step back.
His steel grip kept her in place. “You do now.” He rocked his hips as he led her to the dance floor.
Sydney remained stiff in his arms while a mild case of panic rose within her. “No. You don’t understand,” she shouted at the handsome stranger as she tried and pull away. “I don’t know
how
to dance.”
She hoped the declaration would win her freedom, but the insistent man led her toward the crowded dance floor. Desperate, Sydney dug in her heels and was prepared to clobber the guy if he didn’t listen to reason.
“C’mon,” he encouraged. “I’ll teach you a few moves.”
“I-I’m thirsty,” she said and immediately sensed her
dance
partner’s disappointment. He covered well and quickly flashed another smile. “Need a few drinks to loosen up, eh?”
They changed directions and headed toward one of the bars. It appeared more crowded than the dance floor.
“What’s your poison?” the guy asked.
“A glass of Coke will do.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “Coke and what?”
She blinked. “Coke and some ice?”
His eyes danced with his bark of laughter. “Just coke and ice? No rum or anything
alcoholic
?”
“Oh.” She blinked again. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Uh, huh.” He folded his arms and leaned in close in order to be heard over the music. “Is there anything that you
do
do?”
I can knock you on your ass.
“Either I’ve had too much to drink or my eyes are playing tricks on me,” Weasel shouted and pointed across the club.
Jett’s gaze followed but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to see among the sea of people. He opened his mouth to question his colleague when his eyes locked on a stunning beauty in a short, tight mini dress. The woman’s legs seem to go on forever. Yet, there was something familiar about the curve of her backside and graceful posture.
A smile curved his lips while his hands itched to run through her long wavy hair. If he were a betting man, he’d lay his chips on the woman’s thick mane being one hundred percent natural.
“Looks like I’ve found my lady of the evening.” Jett set his glass down and peeled himself away from the small circle of women he and Weasel held court.
A couple of the women protested while trying to figure out who had caught his attention.
Weasel laughed as he shot out a restraining hand on Jett’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize her.”
Jett frowned and took another look. This time what he saw astonished him. “It can’t be.”
He blinked, but Sydney “Serious” Garrett’s angelic face continued to smile from across the room. He’d always considered her a natural beauty, but he definitely had a soft spot for this pussycat version.
He reached for his drink again.
“I thought you were going over,” Weasel chuckled.
Jett shot him an evil glare.
One of the women in their circle brushed her body against Jett and cooed in his ear. “There’s nothing over there that you can get right here.”
His gaze swept over the provocative woman, but she no longer looked as alluring as when he first offered to buy her a drink. Her makeup was too thick—her eyes too hard. Jett smiled but his eyes glanced across the room again against his will.
The humiliation he’d endure the last few days still held a bitter taste in his mouth, but he was more than disturbed about the attention Sydney drew as time ticked along. In five minutes, she looked as if she was holding her court with fools and jesters trying to get as close as possible.
Finally, he shook his head and then drained the rest of his drink. “I knew she was nothing but a big tease.”
“Yeah,” Weasel agreed—also ignoring the bevy of beauties surrounding them.
Jett flashed him another narrowed glare.
“What?” Weasel shrugged. “I’m in the pool, too.”
The pool. How could he have forgotten about that damn thing?
Jett’s arm candy grew impatient. “How about we head out the dance floor and you can watch me drop it like it’s hot?”
It was on the tip of Jett’s tongue to refuse the offer when he suddenly came back to his senses. Sydney was not the girl for him. She was the competition. He smiled at the woman on his arm and stood from his chair. “Let’s see what you got.”
Sydney wanted to head back to the base. Just as she suspected she stuck out like a sore thumb and she was growing tired of warding off offers to dance and apparently the only real sin in Las Vegas was
not
drinking alcohol.
“You got a boyfriend?” the latest nameless jock inquired, leaning close—a little too close—in Sydney’s personal space. At least he was cute...in a Boris Kodjoe way.
She hitched one shoulder and pretended that she wasn’t flattered by all the attention she was getting. In truth, her ego couldn’t get much bigger. One thing for sure, it was a stark contrast to her Academy days.
However, whatever flattery she felt vanished when her new hunk gave Bobby “Octopus Arms” Blalock a run for his title. Every time she peeled a hand from a breast, hip, and once her butt there seemed to three more strategically placed somewhere else.
After ten minutes of this foolishness, Sydney was at the end of her rope.
“C’mon,” the man cooed, clamping a firm hand on her breast again. “Don’t you know whatever happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas?” The jerk had back her into a corner.
Maj. Maxwell’s warning rang in Sydney’s head while she tried, this time unsuccessfully, to remove his hand. “I’m a high-stakes roller. Anything you want I can get. In fact, why don’t we go to my suite where we can have some real fun?” the man said.
“I don’t think so.” She shoved at his chest, but apparently he thought she was playing hard to get.
“C’mon. You didn’t come dressed like that just to hold up the wall.”
The comment delivered a sharp blow to Sydney’s pride. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” The ridiculousness of her question struck her the moment the words were out of her mouth.
He erased what little distance remained between them. Meanwhile, the man’s stubborn hand gave a painful squeeze to her breast. “I can’t believe a woman as beautiful as you don’t have an official fan club.”
That’s it. It’s time to take him down.
“She does.” A surprising, but unmistakable baritone spoke from behind them. “I’m the president.”
Sydney jumped and swiveled around to Jett’s handsome features glaring down at the man at her side.
“I think you were just leaving.” The muscles flexing in Jett’s jaw belied his calm tone.
Sydney’s mouth dropped—ready to protest. Who asked for his help? She could take care of herself. To her surprise her nameless suitor seemed unfazed by Jett’s macho act and stepped into the line of fire.
“I don’t see a ring on her finger.”
“That’s funny.” Jett grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and jerked him a full inch off the ground within a blink of an eye. “I see one. Maybe you’re not looking hard enough.”
Sydney gapped, blinked and stammered before she finally reacted. “Put him down,” she hissed and rushed around the startled man. She reached up to break Jett’s hold, but it was like trying to break steel.
Her would be suitor sputtered an awkward laugh. “Hey man, it’s all good.” He licked his lips nervously. “I didn’t know she was your girl.”
“I’m
not
his girl,” she snapped at the sputtering fool and then returned her glare back to Jett. “Unhand him.”
Jett’s lips sloped unevenly. “We’re just having a friendly conversation. Isn’t that right, buddy?”
The fool just nodded.
“Lieutenant Colton, need I remind you that I’m your superior officer?”
Jett turned his cold gaze in her direction.
Her stomach twisted into knots, but Sydney held her ground and settled her hands on her hips. “Unhand him. That is a direct order.”
Jett released the man with a rough shove. “Yes, sir.”
Her drunken Casanova hit the floor; butt first, and then scampered away.
Sydney and Jett hardly noticed as their gazes crashed.
“Is that how you thank someone from rescuing you from as asshole like that?”
“Who said that I needed rescuing? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Yeah, you were right on top of the situation,” he sneered with acid sarcasm. His eyes raked her attire. “Maybe you like men groping you in dark corners. Is that it?”
Jett stalked her until, once again, she was backed into a corner. The knots in her stomach twisted tighter and she unwittingly lowered her eyes to the inviting shape of his lips. Suddenly, her mouth felt as dry as the Sahara.
What if he kisses me again?
The thought set off a mild panic. “What are you doing?” she asked bluntly and cringed at how bad her voice trembled.
“I’m giving you what you want.” Lazily he glided his finger across her bare shoulder. “Attention.”
She slapped his hand away. “That’s not why I came here.”
Unfazed, his hand returned and stoked a trail of fire across her collarbone. “And you didn’t wear this fantastic dress that shows off your gorgeous legs as a way to drive every man in here crazy?” He leaned close and inhaled her fragrance.
“I-They do not.”
“Oh, but they do.”
Another blaze of fire raced up Sydney’s leg and she suddenly knew where Jett’s other hand had disappeared.
“Mmm. They’re so soft and toned.” His dark eyes slowly followed the plunge of her neckline. “I imagine other parts of you are the same way.”
“Y-you’ll never know.” She meant to shove him away but only got as far as pressing her hands against his hard chest. After that, the ability to think proved impossible.
His lips sloped. “You’re always issuing challenges.”
A smile danced in her eyes. “And you’re always losing them.”
“It’s not wise to constantly underestimate me, Captain. Especially when it comes to me getting something I want.”
Their eyes locked and it was impossible for Sydney to mistake his meaning. When the seconds stretched into a full minute and she couldn’t think of a snappy comeback, she watched with fascinating horror as Jett’s mouth descend toward hers.
“Don’t,” she pleaded.
He stopped with one brow leveled higher than the other. “Is that a direct order, Captain?”
Yes.
“No.”
Chapter 12
This was a big mistake.
Sydney realized this long before Jett’s warm and demanding lips took possession of her own—long before her knees weakened and her heart raced like an Olympic sprinter. As time ticked by, the kiss sweetened and nearly sent her body into a diabetic shock. She moaned despite her attempt to control her rioting emotions, but she was confident the sound was lost in the loud music surrounding them.
However, unlike their first
inappropriate
kiss, Sydney wasn’t content to just lay back and enjoy the ride. Her own curiosity and tendency to dominate grew. Soon, she was kissing him with just as much—if not more-passion. When he slid one hand around her waist, she countered by gliding hers up his steel-like chest.
Jett pressed closer and ignited a blistering fire between them. For once in Sydney’s life, she refused to coward before it. She
wanted
to be burned—scorched by everything he had to offer.
“What in the hell-?”
Before Sydney had a chance to process the interruption, Jett’s large body was jerked back—and whatever spell she’d been ensnared vanished like a puff of smoke. In its place a familiar wave of embarrassment washed over her.
Niecy, in her annoying splendor, stepped in between the flushed couple with all the fury of an Amazon warrior. “You-” She jabbed her finger in the center of Jett’s chest. “—stay the hell away from her.”
Jett’s brows seesawed with amusement. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
She actually looked murderous.
“You look like you’re interfering in something that doesn’t concern you.” He looked around Niecy’s immobile body and pierced Sydney with an annoyed glare. “You want to call off your friend?”