Positively Criminal (9 page)

Once the lenses floated in a cup of water next to the hairpiece, she crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed a groan when she grazed her sensitive nipples.

“This is going to be an interesting lap dance,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart, we’re both locked and loaded here.”

She ignored his entirely true observation, not convinced he was ready to proceed. “You were on duty three hours ago.”

“My shift ended at seven o’clock.”

She paused for a split second, using every psychological trick she could muster to attempt to call his bluff. Yet, the sparkle in the depths of his eyes told her he wasn’t bluffing. Time for Plan B – giving the man exactly what he wanted. “You realize the action in this room is monitored, don’t you?

“Don’t really care.”

“I do.” She gestured with her head to a red button on the wall. “My feet don’t move until you promise to behave – security does not need to see anything other than a lap dance.”

With a grin, he stretched out his legs in front of him and popped the top button of his jeans. “What’s underneath the skirt?”

“Promise, Detective.”

“Relax, Bri, I know the rules. You slide that sexy little body all over me while I sweat bullets — hardly seems fair.”

She stepped next to the wall, her finger hovering over the button. “Your decision.”

“Do it,” he hissed.

Without hesitation, she pressed the button. The buzzer sounded. The door clicked closed, signaling the security guard to take his post just outside.

She moved back in front of him just as the hard, heavy metal music began to play and gave him a smirk. “No refunds.”

“Not a chance.” She swore she heard the devil cackle in the depth of her mind as he spoke. “No doubt in my mind I’ll get every penny’s worth.”

Bri lifted her hair from her neck, straddled his legs, and then swiveled her hips to the beat. First to the left, back around to the right, and then in tiny little circles right over the incredibly mouthwateringly large bulge between his legs. Slowly, she eased downward until two millimeters would allow her to sit in his lap atop the wild stallion that beckoned her to ride.

Her flesh tingled when he rested his hands on the bare skin of her hips and he buried his thumbs under the hem of her tank top. “Off.”

She raised an eyebrow at his attempt to push the
no-touching
rule, tempted to call a stop to this whole crazy, sexy, dangerously-arousing idea. One more push of the button would stop the music and bring her back into her right mind. Suddenly her lips split into a satisfied grin and she straightened. Insanity had its own agenda.

With her legs squeezed against his, she pried his fingers from her top and then lifted it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. She gave him a wink and then lifted first one leg and then the other over his until she stood with her back to him.

Very slowly she backed up until she straddled his thighs and then lowered her chest until it rested on his knees.

A very tortured breath left his lips. “Shit, Bri, you’re bare.”

She bit her bottom lip, lifted her head, and winked over her shoulder as she pumped her hips up and then down. “I told you, I finished my shift. I was headed home.”

“Without panties?”

She lowered her hips and dragged her now dampened flesh across his thighs, never losing eye contact. “I only wear the g-string when I dance on stage.”

He closed his eyes and forced his head back against the padded headrest. His stomach muscles clenched against her midsection. His knuckles whitened against the chair’s arms.

She moved her head back around to check the position of the camera, silently hoping for once that the machine had malfunctioned. The red light continued to blink, almost as if it scolded her for taking things so far. With an aggravated sigh she eased from his lap and turned to face him. “Are you packing?”

He released a tortured laugh, almost a curse. “I’m assuming you mean my weapon and yes, always.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I figure you’re a good enough shot to cripple the camera.”

His full, rich laugh warmed her heated skin even further. “The watchdog at the door wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass.”

She eased her legs over him again. “And we sure wouldn’t want anything to happen to your fine, tight ass.”

His gaze nearly burnt her as she braced her hands on each side of his shoulders and positioned her swollen breasts just over his mouth. Her hips resumed the circular motion over his groin.

His gaze fell to her chest. A low growl left his throat.

Now empowered by his needy response, she eased her chest lower until her stiff nipples grazed his bottom lip. “See something you like, Detective Rawlings?” She purposely moved her tongue across the outer shell of his right ear as she issued a whispered taunt. “It’s a shame you can’t touch.”

She moved her hips against him again, this time strengthening the motion to allow her breasts to sway just out of his tongue’s reach. He tilted his head to one side then reached between them to lower his zipper.

Suddenly she wasn’t sure who was more tortured.

Jake swallowed hard and questioned his sanity while he damn near crumbled the bones in his fingers with the force of his restraint. Who in his right mind purposely put themselves through this kind of agony? His cock stretched to remind him what a crazy idea this had been.

He gave it a good, hard squeeze and then bit back another curse. Watching a lap dance was an arousing experience in itself, but the woman draped across his chest in this particular instance made it a thousand times better – or worse. Chemistry threatened to blow them both to smithereens.

She arched her hips and slid up his length, the cotton of her skirt molding to the flesh between her legs. “Wouldn’t take much for you to dip right in,” she whispered against his neck.

He lifted his hips and crammed his angry dick against her. “Two can play your game, honey.”

Her smooth, sly grin made him ache even harder. “You can’t touch.”

“No, but I know for a fact you’re cursing that rule as loud and long as I am.”

“You think?”

He moved his hands to cup the sides of her face and moved her ear close to his lips, daring someone to challenge him. “I
know
,” he whispered. “The top of my briefs are wet and I can smell your excitement.”

Her hips rolled against him, caressing his whole length in a rhythm that made him absolutely crazy. So crazy that ripping her skimpy clothing from her body seemed like the only sane thing to do.

“You’re absolutely right, Jake,” she whispered back. “I’m soaked under this blasted skirt.” One more drag of her hips made his dick weep. “And your tongue is the only thing that could possibly soothe my aching nipples.” Her lips brushed his earlobe in another teasing taunt. “Just one quick caress, Detective, around the peaks and then tucked between your lips in a good, hard pull.”

With amazing, superhuman effort, he managed to shove his next question out of his mouth. “Would you come?”

Her low chuckle crossed his eardrum. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Unable to stop it, a groan left the depths of his throat. Hell yeah, she’d orgasm; he’d wrap his lips around her and suck until she screamed for him to stop. Only, he wouldn’t let her off that easily. No, he’d drag the pebbled flesh further inside and use his teeth to tease each stiff peak into oblivion.

A familiar hum vibrated his balls as she thrust her breasts closer to his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue wet his bottom lip. His dick pounded a plea.
C’mon, baby, just a little closer
.

“Please.” Her tiny, barely-audible, whimpered request forced his hands back to her hips. His fingers shook in restraint against her skin. Her smooth, toned, pale skin, dampened by a faint film of moisture.

His lips widened of their own accord. She lowered those full, tight breasts.

“Shoot the damn camera,” she hissed under her breath.

He released a hard breath, both relieved and pissed off that her twisted, ludicrous request brought him out of his drunken daze. Twisted? Yes. Ludicrous? Well, not so much.

The obnoxious taunt of the party-crashing buzzer was the only thing that stopped him from following directions.

He reached to flick the sparkling diamond nestled in her belly button while he fought like hell to keep from passing out. Sonuvabitch, this woman held his balls in the palm of her tiny, little hand — and she hadn’t even touched him. He was so screwed.

He allowed his gaze to move up her body, further aroused by the sway of her breasts while she drew several deep breaths. He forced himself to focus upward and into her gorgeous blue eyes, more than satisfied to discover her flushed cheeks along the way.

Words escaped him. Emotion flooded his mind. His heart pounded right along with his dick.

“Wow,” she said finally.

“Well put.”

Her sweet smile made his cock twitch. “You broke, moneybags?”

“Far from it.” He raised an eyebrow. “You up for another round?”

She held his gaze for several moments until he began to wonder if she might just take him up on his offer. He swallowed hard. He’d never make it out alive. His balls were already so blue they were purple and his dick screamed in agony. But, if she insisted, he’d just have to take one for the team and endure.
Damn
. What a way to go.

“No.” She placed her hands over his and squeezed before moving his to the chair. “I’m pretty sure someone would get hurt.”

He grasped her elbow to steady her as she lifted a leg over his body to stand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Like I could stop you.”

He paused, thankfully distracted as she bent to retrieve her tank top. Only a masochist would ask his next question. “Are all your lap dances like this?” His blood pressure rose, fueled by the thought of her body draped over other men.

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

She regarded him silently for a second then crammed the garment over her head and pulled it over her torso. “I don’t work these rooms.”

“No one argued when I requested you, Bri.”

“I saw you and Jimmy on the camera.”

“You did this for me?”

Her curls touched the tops of her hips as she nodded. “This dance was a little different from the first, don’t you think?”

He allowed himself to think about her question for a moment and damn near choked on realization. Although the first dance aroused him, her motives were crystal clear; she’d danced for his tip, careful to keep professional distance. This time –
damn
– this dance had been smoking hot, a full-fledged onslaught seduction.

She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to one side. “How about a drink? Assuming you’re not on duty.”

“I’m not, except alcohol and a hard-on don’t make good company.” He reached to fasten his jeans and shuffle his junk into some sort of near-comfortable position. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

He grabbed the wig and cup of water from the table and handed them to her. “Burn these.”

“You wish.” She gave him a trademark eye roll. “I’ll meet you out front.”

He turned the knob and opened the door, gesturing her into the hallway with his other hand. “With panties.”

Her soft giggle traveled the length of his still rock-hard cock as she swayed away from him toward the dressing area. “We’ll see.”

Giovanni’s Coffee Bistro welcomed them inside with the strong, bitter smell of freshly-brewed coffee, the scent providing just the push Bri needed for encouragement. Her knees still threatened to buckle from the night’s earlier excitement and more than once she’d already considered trading coffee for sex.

But there were things that first needed to be said.

Once seated across the table from Jake in a secluded corner booth, Bri wrapped her hands around her cup as a deterrent to reach for him. As she lifted the cup to her lips and the warm liquid coated her tongue, she found herself at a complete loss for words. Her intended confession would go over about as well as waving a red flag in front of an angry bull, and there was absolutely no way she could outrun him.

She moved her gaze from the top of her cup into his face in the off chance she might catch a hint of what he might be thinking. As usual, those deep, mysterious eyes scanned hers from left to right and back again, taking great care to disguise emotion. She swallowed a mouthful of liquid, gently returned the cup to the table, then reached into her skirt pocket.

She slid the earlier folded bills across the surface. “You paid way too much for tonight’s entertainment.”

Finally, a sly grin graced his features. “I beg to differ.”

“I didn’t do that for money.”

“I know that, Bri. What happened between us in that room was no act.” He chuckled as he pocketed the money. “And you surprised the hell out of me.”