Pin Down (Men out of Uniform Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Pin Down (Men out of Uniform Book 1)
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He shook his head.

He just needed a woman, any woman. He could barely remember
the last time he’d had the luxury of being inside one. All he knew was that
it’d been rough and quick. A momentary flash of sensation, fleeting and
then…nothing. Not nearly satisfying enough, but it had taken the edge off back
then. This time? This time he wanted to make it count.

Nash took a swig of his beer. He wasn’t the only chump
watching her either. Actually, she had a growing fan club of drooling idiots around
the edge of the dance floor, hanging on every sway of those hips. If he hadn’t
been honed to assess every specific of a given situation, he’d say she was
doing it deliberately, but all his instincts said it was totally unconscious. The
guy closest to her leaned back, gave her a heated look up and down and let his
gaze focus on the curves of her ass. Nash’s jaw clenched at the move. The guy was
cocky. He’d done it so she wouldn’t notice, but didn’t care who else saw him.

The guy looked like an operator and Nash should know, although
he’d never been that obnoxious. At least he hoped not. He’d like to think he
had more finesse, a lot more. He wondered if she’d be dumb enough to fall for
someone like that. Or smart enough to recognize him for exactly what he was and
go for it anyway.

And why the fuck should he even care? Damn.
Her?
Why
did it have to be
her
that piqued his interest? God, of all the women
here there were any number who’d been giving him “the look”. The one that said
he could approach them and wouldn’t be walking away with a “no”, to whatever he
suggested. So why
her
?

Nash took another swig of his beer as she walked off the
dance floor, running a hand around the back of her neck and lifting her hair
up. She looked hot, sweaty and so fucking sexy his dick felt as if it was about
to rip a hole through the front of his jeans. He was pretty sure he’d have the zipper
imprint to prove it. He more than liked the slightly messed look and all at
once he had the urge to see her plenty messed up. From being under him. Or on
top of him. Or between him and any hard surface. He wasn’t that particular.

While he watched, the dickwad whose eyes had been all over
her walked up to her, grabbed her arm and maneuvered her into a booth, blocking
her in with his big body. The move was quick, practiced and every muscle in
Nash’s body went on full alert. The guy’s bulk hid her from the rest of the
room and no one else seemed to have noticed, including the group of women she’d
been dancing with.

He took a deep breath. None of his business, right? He
gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw. He’d come in here to have a quiet drink,
pick up a woman or have one pick him up and leave. Yeah, except that no one had
ignited a shred of real interest until he’d seen
her
dance.

He closed his eyes briefly. It wasn’t his problem. They had
security at places like this. Someone else was bound to notice, sooner or later.
Besides, maybe that’s the way she rolled. He really didn’t want to get
involved. He should just—

Fuck it.

Before he finished that last thought, he was already moving.
He was across the bar to the other side of the dance floor before he could even
think about what he was going to do once he got there.

“Get your hands off her,” he snarled.

Okay, that’d do for starters.

The guy gave him a brief look.

“Get lost. Lady’s with me,” he dismissed.

The lady in question was frowning. At him. Okay, it was
possible he’d read the situation all wrong, but his instincts were better than
that. They had to be, otherwise he’d have been long dead, probably several
times over by now.

“That right?” Nash drawled. “That why you have her trapped?
You prefer the captive audience approach to picking up chicks?”

The guy stood up in a rush. Christ, he couldn’t be that dumb,
could he?

Scratch that. The stupid prick actually took a swing at him.

Nash tempered his reaction just in time. This was real life
and the rules here were different. He had to make sure he remembered that.

Rather than the fatal blow he could have delivered ten
different ways, Nash just slowed the guy down with a quick jab. And it felt way
too good. The last guy who’d come at him had ended up on the floor as well, but
at least this one was still breathing. And moaning.

Nash looked up as
she
shimmied out of the booth. Shimmied.
Christ, what kind of word was that? He didn’t have a better one though as she
eased sideways along the seat in the tiny skirt before standing up.

Her gaze was fixed on his and she still wore the frown. He
expected her to be grateful, he expected to be thanked profusely for
intervening and going out of his way to extract her from a questionable
situation. Actually, for his effort, he was looking forward to it. He did not
expect her to give him a long look he couldn’t interpret, walk over to dickwad
prone on the floor and draw her foot back as if she was going to—


Hey.

Nash grabbed her around the waist just in time and swung her
up off the floor.

The guy probably deserved it and more, but he just couldn’t
watch her kick his balls up into his throat while he was out of it, without a
qualm, without any hesitation. And with those sexy-ass boots.

He winced.
Ouch.
And why didn’t that do anything
except turn him the
fuck
on? Big time.

He released her when she started to squirm and he became aware
of things he probably shouldn’t with how hard he was holding her. And she’d
probably just become aware of something hard he had little control over.

He gave a low whistle. She might be small, cute and blonde,
but apparently she had a mean streak a mile wide. “Remind me never to get on
your bad side.”

Even with the boots, she still barely came to his chin. She threw
her head back and glared at him. Again. “I can take care of myself.”

And she was spitting mad. At
him
?

He frowned. “Well fuck me. You’re welcome by the way.”

 

Lexi swallowed. Okay, that had her imagination running
overtime. Her wild, out of control, under-sexed,
dirty
imagination. Jeez,
the guy could move, she had to give him that. He had a way of shifting his body
with an economy of movement that might give the impression of laid-back, but she
knew better. He moved precisely and with purpose. And he was fast.

“I had everything under control,” she muttered.

“Yeah? Looked like you were taking care of it from where I
was.”

She took in a deep breath. The oaf had taken her unawares,
grabbing her like that, and her heart was still pounding a mile a minute. And
she wasn’t talking about the oaf laid out on the floor.

“Do I look like a damsel in distress? I didn’t need to be
rescued
,
so—”

“Like I said, that’s not what it looked like. In fact, I’d
go so far as saying it looked like you needed some help.”

“You think this makes up for you being an asshole earlier?”

He probably expected she’d be all over him in gratitude.
Yeah, as if that’d ever happen. She didn’t do simpering well, even if she
wanted to.

He leaned down closer to her and frowned. He pointed to the
figure rolling on to his side on the floor. “That guy had you trapped. You
didn’t want to be there. I took care of it. Nothing more, nothing less. A polite
thank-you would have been appreciated.”

Polite? Coming from him? That was rich.

“Out. Both of you.”

Lexi jerked at the deep voice behind her. “What?” she
gasped.

The bouncer pointed toward the main entrance. “Out.”

Of all the—

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

“Right now.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything.” She looked toward Mr.
Hot Bod, who still hadn’t said anything. “Really. He—”

“I said out, Miss or I’ll physically remove you.”

Miss?
Miss?

“You lay a hand on her and I’ll take your arm off.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. Macho guys. Probably couldn’t help
themselves. It was in their DNA. The bouncer looked taken aback. Yeah, he probably
wasn’t used to anyone getting up in his face like that. Not someone who could
very well have been as big as he was and exuded a vibe that said he could
deliver on any threat he threw out.

“I don’t want any trouble here, but all of you need to leave.
Now.”

She looked around for her friends. No one was in sight.
Well, didn’t this just suck?


Now,
” he repeated.

Shit.

“All right, all right,” she grumbled.

Lexi pushed through the crowd to the entrance. She’d been
pretty much ready to leave anyway, but it would have been nice to let her
friends know where she was. And to have been able to get her jacket from them
as well. The fresh, crisp night air was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of
the bar, but she shivered when she cleared the door.

Great. Just great.

“I’ve never been thrown out of anywhere before in my life,”
she mumbled to herself.

“Yeah? You don’t strike me as the ‘sheltered upbringing’
type.”

Lexi’s heart skipped a beat as she turned. He was right
behind her. Right. Behind. Her. So close she could feel the warmth radiating
off him and the wash of his breath on the side of her neck.

And he was laughing. God, what a smile and a laugh did for
him. He was laughing at
her
she reminded herself, enjoying himself at
her
expense. The pig. She huffed out a breath. He might be a pig, but he was a hot
pig. Seriously, the guy was straight-up gorgeous when he wasn’t trying to be
the meanest, rudest dude in the room.

“So, you got a name?” he asked when the door to the bar
slammed closed.

So now he wanted to do the chit chat thing? She lifted her
chin ever so slightly. “Alexis. My friends call me Lexi. You?” She raked him
with a look she hoped came off as disparaging because that’s what she was going
for. “You can call me Alexis.”

He laughed. Again with the beat-skipping thing. And the stomach-jolting
thing. What the hell was that all about anyway?

“Well, looky here.”

The guy he’d just decked stumbled out of the bar. With two of
his friends and if his scowl was anything to go on, he was seriously pissed.

Oh God, this is all I need.

“Don’t be an idiot, Tracey,” she said.

Mr. Hot Bod looked over at her. “You know this guy?”

“He wishes I knew him,” she muttered.

Tracey gave her his standard “I’m imagining your clothes
off” glance that made her skin crawl. He’d been hitting on her since the ninth grade
and she usually brushed him off as being too drunk, too stupid and very much too
obnoxious to worry about. Not much rattled her, but the way they stalked over, totally
ignoring her, sent a cold shaft of alarm through her.

To give him credit, Mr. Hot Bod stepped in front of her.

“Alexis, go back inside.”

It was nothing if not a command and she’d never done well
with being told what to do.

“Yeah, there’s just a small problem with that,” she
countered as the three of them approached him. “We got thrown out, remember?”

He glanced at her as he let his arms relax by his side. He
flexed his fingers, balanced his weight on the balls of his feet, his body all
at once ready, eyeing the three men. There was a sudden intensity that radiated
from him.

“Go back inside. Where it’s safe.”

His focus was almost tangible, measuring each of the
threats, tracking their movements as they closed in on him. The thing that
struck her most was that he didn’t seem worried. Oh, his body was poised for
action. She could tell that in the way he held himself, the way he watched
their every movement, ready, waiting. But there was also an air of calm about
him. God, he almost seemed as if he relaxed as they got closer.

Lexi gasped as two of them charged him at once without
warning. She figured Tracey planned to get his own back while his buddies roughed
up Mr. Hot Bod first. And she guessed that plan went out the window as soon as
they got within range. She couldn’t really say what happened exactly except
there was a blur of movement and the other two guys were suddenly on the ground.

Tracey pulled a knife then and she felt a frisson of real fear
for the first time. He was a loud-mouthed bully, a hot-headed jerk, but the
weapon surprised her. Of course, he’d been drinking and had been totally
humiliated so… As he waved the knife back and forth, the steel glinting, probably
hoping he looked intimidating and doing a damn good job of it, Mr. Hot Bod just
smiled and motioned to him with his fingers.

Was he nuts?

He glanced her way just as she stepped back and stumbled,
her heel slipping on the smooth surface of the curb. Tracey decided to use the
distraction as an advantage and rushed him, but it did little good. Tracey’s
body made a thick thud sound when he hit the pavement.

Three against one and it had been no contest at all. The guy
knew how to fight—she had to give him that—although she wasn’t surprised. She’d
known from the way he carried himself he probably had specialized combat
training, but to see it like that up close and personal? Frightening, savage
and somehow beautiful.

He flexed his hand and looked down at his knuckles. Yeah,
Tracey probably had a hard head.

“That’s what I get for coming to a small hick town,” he
muttered.

Lexi took a shaky breath. “San Antonio is hardly a small
town by anyone’s standards, and bar fights are universal, aren’t they?”

His eyes narrowed on her. “I told you to go inside.”

“Yeah, about that. I don’t follow orders well. Genetic
deficiency maybe.”

Plus, it hadn’t seemed right to leave him. Not after what
he’d done. Or tried to.

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