In the Bedroom with the Rope: Tied in Knots (3 page)

“Maybe you’re just demanding,” Samantha teased.

“Oh no doubt about that. My O’s are on- hundred-percent high-maintenance. Man’s gotta earn that brass ring.”

The sound of a truck backing up alerted them. “Must be Ralph with the liquor delivery. I’ll get it.” Stella set aside her coffee mug.

“Staff meeting at four!” Sam called out. Stella waved dismissively. Sam shook her head. Stella was the good cop to her bad cop, letting her sort out employee issues. Just another one of her stick-in-the-mud duties. Just once, she wished she could be irresponsible.

Do you really? Look how well that turned out with Alan.

Shaking off the stray thought, Samantha wiped down the plastic-covered menus. Stella returned and flipped the closed sign to open. “I’ll man the bar until Greg gets in at one.”

“I’ll be in the office if you need me.” Sam retreated with her coffee.

The rest of the morning and the early afternoon flew by. She did payroll and finished up her presentation for the staff meeting. Part of the reason Lucky 21 was so successful, it wasn’t some seedy dive bar, but a place that catered to people from all walks of life. Their drink prices were Vegas reasonable, much more so than any of the casino lounges. The last quarter had been profitable and Sam made a mental note to talk to Stella about hosting live entertainment to draw bigger crowds on the slower nights. After all, what was Las Vegas without live performances?

A knock sounded on her office door, which she’d closed to shut out the noise from the bar. “Who is it?”

“Trevor Harrison,” came the deep reply.

Sam made a high-pitched squeaking sound, which she fervently hoped he couldn’t hear. What was he doing here? Yes, she told him she had a bar, but she intentionally didn’t mention the name of it.

He’s a detective, dumbass. How hard would it be for him to find you?

Sam wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Her heartbeat was erratic, thrilling that he’d taken time to track her down, that he wanted to see her. Did the overwhelming attraction run both ways?

She moved to the door and pulled it open. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway and she had a vision of him turning sideways to pass through it. The scruffy, golden tipped stubble was so masculine, so alluring, like a cowboy fresh from a hard day on the range. Their eyes met and held and she got lost once more in the intensity radiating from his dark blue irises. “What are you doing here?”

“You ran off on me this morning.” His gaze seemed to scorch her skin where it landed, hotter and bolder than any caress she’d ever received. “Just dropped your little bomb and headed for the hills.”

“I had to open the bar.” Even in her own ears, the excuse sounded lame.

One dark blond eyebrow went up. “Before noon?”

“There’s lots to do.” Like listen to her business partner shagging a six and recall exactly the way Trevor moved his hand on his thick cock. Something told her Stella would invent a whole new scale for Detective Harrison. Ire coursed through her at the thought of Stella rating this man, of touching his magnificent body.

He shifted his weight, looking mildly uncomfortable. “I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to apologize. I didn’t realize my bedroom was so visible and I’ll be sure to shut the blinds at night. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Disappointment filled her. She’d never get to see that particular show again. The words tumbled out before she thought them through. “I wasn’t offended.”

He stepped closer, the light in his eyes promising all manner of wickedness. “No? Then what were you?”

****

Trevor was hard. His cock had swollen to the point of pain when he caught sight of Samantha Jacobs. Her vanilla scent was sweet and hot, utterly delectable. It surrounded him, filled his senses. He wanted to take a big bite. She was so painfully shy but he sensed she was attracted to him, too.

This was an incredibly bad idea. He shouldn’t have come here and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kissing those plump pink lips. Or slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her curvy body into direct contact with his.

He hadn’t had sex since before the shooting. And being so close to Samantha made him keenly aware of how long he’d denied his body the relief of a woman’s touch.

But after what she’d been through, what that animal Gibbons had done to her, she probably had no desire to take up with another man. Especially one who preferred kinky, adventurous no holds barred sex. She deserved romance and candles, not leather and cuffs.

 And he wasn’t the right man anyway. He’d been investigating her and he needed his professional detachment back.

Trevor stepped away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again.”

He turned to go but her hand shot out, curling around his forearm. She was the one who moved closer and whispered low, for his ears only, “Watching you turned me on.”

A grunt escaped when her soft hand stroked his skin lightly. He couldn’t think with her touching him like that, could barely draw breath. Good thing his heartbeat was automatic or it might have stopped along with his higher brain function.

All the reasons about why this was such a bad idea went AWOL. She was touching his
arm
for Chrissakes, and he was more turned on than when other women had their lips wrapped around his cock. He had to kiss her, had to taste her sweet lips, just so he’d know their exact texture for the next time he took his hand to himself, imaging he was about to bury his stiff prick in her wet sheath.

Her office door was still open and he stepped through it and shut it before pinning her back up against it. She made a soft sound, like a protest but his lips dipped down and sealed over hers in a hungry kiss. Would she kiss him back? He nipped at her lips and stroked his tongue over the seam, asking wordlessly for entry. When she opened her mouth he wanted to roar in triumph, but refrained since he couldn’t stop kissing her.

Her tongue met with his, soft, almost unsure but just as insistent as his. He coaxed her back into his mouth, encouraging her to explore, to take what she wanted. Her fingers clamped on his shoulders. He had to stoop low to reach her and it was only natural to grip her ass and hoist her up until his stiff prick pressed between her spread thighs. Through the denim fabric of their jeans he could sense her sex, his dick like a heat-seeking missile, desperate for impact. He bucked against her and she tore her mouth away, moaning in his ear, “Oh God, you feel so good.”

He couldn’t recall if a woman had ever responded to him so greedily. And the fact that it was
her
, the woman who haunted his dreams, turned him on even more. If he could remember how to speak he would tell her how incredible she felt in his arms, how soft and feminine and perfect. But he was too far gone to do more than grind relentlessly against her.

Resting his forehead against hers, he met and held her gaze as he rubbed his sex over hers. Her lids were at half-mast, her nipples diamond hard under the thin red top she wore. He wanted to suck on them, through the fabric, then without the barrier.

Her legs locked around his hips and she moved with him, seemingly as desperate as he was for the sweet relief that was just out of reach. His shoulder throbbed from the exertion but he ignored it. The pain was inconsequential. What body part wouldn’t he sacrifice to live in this moment forever?

Her head thunked back against the door, eyes sliding shut. “So close,” she panted. Her tone was almost desperate.

He wanted to feel her wetness, to find out of her slick lube coated the petals of her sex. But he was too far gone to undress either one of them. He’d come in a heartbeat if his cock brushed her soft skin. Instead, he swiveled against her, consuming her every response. His voice was barely recognizable when he muttered, “Come for me.”

Her eyes flew open and he saw her release, reveled in the utter rapture crossing her face. She was always beautiful, but in the throes of passion, Samantha Jacobs transformed into a goddess.

Her bliss spurred his own, the telltale tingle zipping down his spine. His balls lifted as he came in his pants for the first time in his adult life.

A knock sounded on the door directly behind her head. They both jumped. “Sam, it’s time for the staff meeting.”

Her blue eyes went wide, almost panicked, as realization dawned. “I’ll be out in a minute!” She unclasped her legs and shoved him back. He lowered her to the floor and stepped away.

She appeared shell-shocked, blue eyes wide. “Did that really just happen?

He wanted to grin like a fucking idiot. “Do you mean, did I just come in my pants like a randy teenage boy while dry humping you against the door?”

Her gaze dropped to the dark discoloration spreading down the front of his pants. “Wow, Um…?” her expression bordered on frantic, clearly unsure of what to do, eyes darting to the door.

Trevor gestured toward the partially open door on the other side of the room. “Bathroom, right?”

She nodded, still wide-eyed like a Disney Princess. Christ he wanted to strip them both down to their skin and do it all over again, this time with his cock surrounded by her wet heat. But she looked on the verge of a panic attack, so he reigned himself in.

“I’ll clean up a bit and wait until you’re having your staff meeting then sneak out.”

“Okay, good. That’s good.” She nodded in rapid succession, clearly relieved that he didn’t intend to advertise what had just happened to her staff. After weeks of observation, he knew how shy she was, how embarrassed by carnal matters.

She turned for the door, but he stopped her. “I want to see you again.”

Again, with the wide-eyed look. “I don’t think—”

“Don’t think. Just say you’ll see me later tonight.”

She shook her head. “I have to go.”

This time he let her leave. He cleaned up as best he could with paper towels, planted a bug in her phone and then sauntered out of the bar. No one bothered to look at his crotch, thank fuck.

He drove home and stripped off his jeans, tossing them directly into the wash with more force than necessary. Did he really imagine Samantha would eagerly hop into a full blown sexual relationship with him just because she’d seen him whack off? The woman had been assaulted for fuck’s sake. “What the hell was I thinking?”
Trevor showered and had just tucked in a clean black t-shirt when a knock sounded on his front door. His stupid heart actually sped, hoping for Samantha.

But instead Duncan McMurphy, his former and hopefully future partner stood on his doorstep. “I called but you didn’t answer.”

“I was busy.”
Getting busy with my target.

“You look like shit, Trev.”

“Thanks Murph, you too. Want some coffee?”

“It’s ninety seven degrees out.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Trevor headed toward the kitchen.

“How’s the stalking going? Murph leaned against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest.

Trevor cast him a dark look as he filled the coffee pot with tap water. “I’m not stalking her. I’m protecting her.”

“From what, the bogeyman? Gibbons is doing hard time, Trev.”

“Like no one has ever ordered a hit from prison.” Trevor intentionally relaxed his shoulders so Murphy wouldn’t see how much this conversation bothered him. “I’m keeping an eye on her. After what she’s been through she deserves a little peace of mind.”

Murphy shook his head slowly, his condescension clear in the practiced movement. “Don’t bullshit me. You want her, you’ve been hot for her since the first time her photo came across your desk. Playing hero is just a convenient excuse to indulge in this obsession.”

Trevor didn’t respond. If Murphy caught wind of what had happened at Samantha’s bar, he’d never let Trevor hear the end of it. Murphy was annoying enough with his criminal psyche degree, he didn’t need any encouragement.