The Extractor

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by Leslie Georgeson


  Ah hell. Luke was right. I wanted her. Badly. And I didn’t even know why. She wasn’t my type at all. For some reason, I found her embarrassment totally endearing. I could have fun with this girl. She was dang cute. All flustered and red-faced and sexy as hell. I was intrigued with her. I wanted to see her blush more. Could I get her to let down her hair and take off those glasses without using the pheromone? Could I get her to be comfortable around me, talk about herself, without the pheromone? I’d never wanted that before, getting to know a girl. But I wanted to know Liz. She wasn’t fake. She wasn’t a hookup kind of girl. As suspicious and uptight as she was, it would be difficult to get her to let her guard down. She was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I should stay away from her, but I didn’t know if I could. When I set my sights on something, it was hard to get me to back off. And for some crazy reason, I’d just set my sights on this sexy, curvaceous hotel clerk.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally. “Glenda will probably want to check in first thing before she heads out, and make sure I’ve got everything squared away.”

  Perfect. I would see my mother first thing in the morning. Mom wasn’t going to Georgia. I wouldn’t let her. She wouldn’t find me there, anyway. Because I was right here.

  I smiled, laying on the charm again. “Then we’ll book a room, please. Three rooms, actually. I want a king-size bed in mine.” I winked.

  Liz blushed, obviously flustered, and lowered her gaze as she typed on her computer keyboard. “All right.”

  “Just two rooms,” Luke corrected. “Mateo’s staying with me. But I want two beds,” he added. “The little shit’s not sharing mine.”

  Mateo glanced up at that, his face reddening. “Why can’t I have my own room?”

  Luke sent Mateo a look that made him lower his gaze, though Mateo didn’t look happy. “You haven’t earned that right yet. You haven’t proven yourself. Just be grateful I took you in instead of leaving you there by the zoo.”

  Luke obviously didn’t totally trust Mateo. I was glad he was keeping an eye on the kid so I didn’t have to. Apparently, the brief interrogation hadn’t convinced Luke that the kid was trustworthy yet.

  Though Liz feigned disinterest, I could see she was listening with rapt attention. When she noticed me staring at her, she flushed again and became all business, forcing a smile I knew she didn’t feel. “Two rooms, then. One with a king-size bed, the other room with two queen beds. Will that work?”

  Luke and I both nodded. Mateo stuffed the flyer he’d been reading back into the rack and came forward.

  I handed Liz my credit card. She swiped it, waited a moment, then handed it back. “You’re in Room 220 and your friends are in Room 222.” She slid the room keycards across the counter toward us. “Have a nice stay, gentlemen. Checkout is tomorrow at eleven.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I winked at her, snatching up the room keycards, loving that she blushed once again. Maybe I could get her to loosen up without using the pheromone.

  Luke, Mateo and I headed toward the stairs for the second floor where our rooms were located.

  Luke smacked my arm and whispered, “She’s a prickly one. I’ll bet you can’t seduce her without using the pheromone.”

  I glared at him. “She’s not my type.”

  His smile grew. “That’s why she’d be so perfect to experiment on. Use your charms, man, see if you can get her to unwind a bit. That girl’s so tight, I’ll bet she squeaks when she walks.”

  Mateo snickered from where he trailed behind us. “I’d do her. She’s kinda hot with the nerdy glasses and all.”

  A sudden wave of protectiveness washed over me. Liz was a human being, not a toy to play with. And they were both being insulting. “Leave her alone, you guys. She’s not that kind of girl.” Luke might be an ass, but he usually wasn’t so insensitive. What was his deal? Was he trying to instigate something here? He did like to get people riled up, though it generally wasn’t me he went after.

  Luke cocked a brow. “No shit, Sherlock. Come on, I’ll bet you your Lamborghini that you can’t seduce her without using the pheromone.”

  Was he serious? After seeing the vulnerability in Liz’s eyes, I didn’t want to do that to her. I sensed she’d been hurt by someone in her past. I couldn’t use her that way. It was cruel. It was wrong. If she’d been easy like other women, I might not be balking, because no one would be hurt. But Liz was different.

  “No.” I shoved past him and headed for my room.

  “What’s the matter?” Luke taunted. “You scared you can’t do it?”

  I spun around. What the fuck? He was trying to instigate something here. Trying to get me all riled up. And it was working.

  I would never use Liz that way. As an experiment. I myself had been experimented on, so I knew how it felt, and I wouldn’t want to do that to anyone else.

  Neither would he.

  I eyed him suspiciously.

  Luke’s eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t name. “If you win, you can have my Porsche.”

  “I don’t want your fucking Porsche.”

  He shook his head. “What’s wrong with you? She’s hot and you know it. If you don’t want her, then I’m going after her.” There was a definite challenge in his tone.

  “No, you won’t. You’ll leave her alone.”

  He held my stare, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. “Then you go after her, lover boy. One of us is going to get laid tonight. If not you, then me or Mateo.”

  Mateo nodded eagerly. “I want her. I’m younger than you two, so I have a better chance.”

  Luke shoved Mateo back. “In your dreams, kid. That girl will be hard to crack. It’ll take a pro like me or Ryan to break through her walls.” He turned to me. “Well, you going to go after her? Or do I get first dibs?”

  I didn’t want Luke anywhere near Liz, though I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if he would hurt her. While he could be persistent, if she said no, he’d back off. Luke was always only after a good time. I normally was, too. But Liz obviously wasn’t a “good time” kind of girl. Luke was just trying to rile me up because he knew I wanted her.

  Why did I get the sense he was pushing me toward this girl? That wasn’t like him.

  I didn’t know what his deal was, but I didn’t want him touching her in any way. I’d never cared what women he went after before. We’d even shared a few of them together. So why was I so adamant against him being anywhere near Liz?

  “Well?” he demanded. “You going after her or am I?”

  Fuck him. He wasn’t touching her. “Yeah. I’ll do it,” I muttered, knowing it was the only way to keep Luke away from her. “I’ll take you up on that bet. But I’m not betting my car and neither are you.”

  Luke’s gaze sharpened on me. “Then what are we betting?”

  I contemplated my answer. “If I win the bet, then you have to stay away from women for an entire month. But if I lose, then I have to stay away from women for an entire month.”

  Luke scowled. “No sex for a month?”

  “Yeah.” Could I win this bet? Could I crack through the thick walls surrounding Liz? I wanted to. I wanted to see what made that girl tick. I not only wanted her hot and willing in my arms, I wanted to know her. And I wanted her to like me, to want me, for me.

  If I lost this bet, then I couldn’t have sex for an entire month. Surprisingly, that didn’t bother me as much as it should have.

  Luke stuck his hand out, a gleam in his eye. “Let’s shake on it.”

  I slapped my hand in his and roughly shook it, relieved that he would be leaving her alone. I didn’t really care about the stupid bet.

  I just wanted Liz.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Liz

  My face burned as the three men walked away, heading for the stairs rather than the elevator. I don’t know what had just happened. If I didn’t know better, I would think they’d drugged me with some type of aphrodisiac. My face grew even hotter as I recalled all that I had just done. I had
flirted with that man, touching him, inviting him to come back to my office. I had come onto to him like a professional escort. Never in my life had I acted so slutty before. It was as if the man had put some type of spell on me that lured me into a deep sexual haze. Even now, my body still hummed with sexual excitement and a fierce attraction.

  Humiliation swept through me. Was he some type of wizard? A magician? What the hell had just happened? I went over everything again in my head, recalling all the things that had happened from the moment I’d heard the bell chime and come out of my office to find the men standing in the lobby.

  I had disliked them on sight. They’d given off that vibe of conceit that instantly turned me off. They’d looked to be in their late twenties, only a few years older than me. One of the men was blond, the other dark. Their faces were similar, strong, sculpted, well-defined features, though the dark-haired stranger had “pretty-boy” good looks, while the blond was a little more rugged. They could easily be brothers. Or cousins. The third man, who was younger, maybe late teens, browsed through the rack of flyers off to the right of the front reception area, and looked to be of Hispanic descent.

  All three men were tall and well-built, and exceptionally good-looking. I did a double take at first, my eyes widening at their overwhelming masculine beauty. A lot of celebrities and athletes had checked in at the inn over the time that I’d worked here, but no one who was quite as imposing as these three, and particularly the two standing at the front desk. They exuded confidence, and an air of darkness, of danger, that made my pulse skyrocket. They gave off a toughness that hinted they’d experienced harsh things, difficult things.

  But the cockiness they gave off turned my stomach. I had no doubt they were players. Probably stuck-up assholes who were full of themselves. Not my type in the least. I preferred down-to-earth men who were courteous and respectful to women. And totally unaware of their attractiveness. The two men standing at the counter were definitely very aware of their looks. It was obvious in the way they dressed, the way they carried themselves, even the gel in their primped, spiky hairstyles.

  And as my gaze finished raking over them, two things suddenly struck me at once.

  One, the man with dark hair looked just like the man in the wanted poster Glenda had shown me. And two, he had a prosthetic arm.

  The practiced smile froze on my lips.

  A few months ago, a police detective from Georgia had come into the inn and warned me that a man with a prosthetic arm might show up here looking for Glenda. He’d said that the man was a killer and that he would hurt Glenda. He’d left me his business card and told me to call him immediately if the stranger with the prosthetic arm showed up.

  And now a man with a prosthetic arm who oozed confidence and danger had just walked into the inn. This was the very same man Glenda thought was her son. Was he really here to hurt Glenda? Who was he?

  Before I could react to my discovery, that sexual haze had hit me and my mind had been filled with lustful thoughts about the dark-haired man with the prosthetic arm. And I’d embarrassed myself for the next several minutes until they left.

  Now that they were gone, I hurried into my office and yanked my purse out of the bottom desk drawer. Removing my wallet, I pulled out the business card of the man who’d warned me about the killer who might come for Glenda. He was from the Atlanta PD. If those men were here to hurt Glenda, I had to stop them. I had to warn Glenda.

  My hands shook as I swiped the screen of my cellphone and typed in the detective’s number.

  It rang three times, then went to a standard voicemail. Please leave your message after the tone.

  I waited for the beep. “Uh, hello, detective, this is Liz from Glenda’s Inn in Medicine Park, Oklahoma. You left your business card with me a while back. Well, that man with the prosthetic arm you warned me about just checked in here. So, um, okay. Well, bye.”

  Uneasiness settled in. Something about this didn’t feel right, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Would the detective send cops over to arrest them now? Had calling that number been the right thing to do? What if he wasn’t a real detective? What if what Glenda believed was true? What if her son really was being hunted by that evil company and the man I’d just called wasn’t a real police detective, but a man sent to kill him? Glenda’s story did seem farfetched.

  Uncertainty slithered through me. Had I made a mistake?

  I inhaled sharply. There was one way to find out.

  I slid into the chair behind my desk and googled the Atlanta Police Department. I called the information line and was informed that Atlanta had six different police zones.

  “What zone is the detective working in, ma’am?”

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “One moment while I check for you.” A pause. Some clicking sounds of someone typing on a computer keyboard. Then, “Sorry, ma’am, we don’t appear to have a Detective Ellington working here. Did you mean Edwards? We do have an Edwards.”

  I snatched the business card from my purse again. It definitely said “Ellington.”

  “No. Thank you, anyway.” I disconnected, and a new wave of uneasiness crashed over me.

  You should have done that first, Liz. Confirmed the man was legit. Now you don’t know what’s going to happen.

  Yeah, how was I supposed to know he wasn’t a real detective?

  One thing I did know: I needed to call Glenda.

  But what would I say to her? I think your long-lost son might be here, but he might be here to kill you? I called some guy who I thought was a cop to come get him, but I’m not really sure who it was I just called?

  The bell out front dinged again. Clang.

  I stuffed my phone and the card back in my purse, then shoved the purse back in the desk drawer. I would have to call Glenda after I dealt with whoever was at the front desk. And after I figured out what I was going to say to her. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything to her yet. Maybe I should just wait and see what happened now.

  My hair was still down, all wild and tousled. Heat rushed into my cheeks as I recalled my actions from moments ago, how I’d tossed my glasses aside and yanked my hair free like a seductress. As soon as I dealt with the new arrival, I would fix my hair and make myself presentable once again. Running my hands through my hair, and smoothing my palms down my skirt, I headed back out to the reception area.

  The dark-haired man with the prosthetic arm was standing at the front counter, intently watching my approach. A wave of embarrassment washed over me. I faltered, then caught myself before I stumbled. God, why did he affect me like this?

  His gaze raked over me appreciatively, causing heat to flush back into my face. Why was he looking at me like that? Like I was a tasty morsel he wanted to devour?

  And why did an answering wave of attraction and hot awareness snake through me?

  I pushed my glasses higher on my nose. No one knew my glasses were as much a shield that I used to keep people away as they were a tool to see with. The lenses made me feel safe. Protected. Putting them on was like erecting a wall between me and whomever was on the other side. And I definitely wanted a wall between me and this man. He unsettled me for some reason.

  “Was there something else you needed?” I stopped behind the counter and forced myself to meet his gaze.

  His eyes were an unusual, clear amber color. Striking.

  Predator-like.

  That thought made a chill creep down my spine. Was he here to hurt Glenda?

  “Yes, actually, there was.” He smiled at me, and while I conceded he had a nice smile—a very nice smile—this time I didn’t feel the sudden urge to fling myself at him, to flirt or touch him in any way. Thank God.

  I waited expectantly, cocking a brow. I told myself I didn’t like him or what he represented. Not one bit. But I was a terrible liar.

  The man was hot. So hot I had to fight the urge to fan myself from his sexiness.

  Along with the unexpected attraction, I felt an undenia
ble pull toward him. It confused me and I struggled to ignore it.

  I lifted my hand again to push my glasses higher on my face—so I could erect that invisible wall—but the glasses were already snug against the bridge of my nose.

  His lips twitched, his gaze following my movements.

  I awkwardly lowered my hand. I couldn’t hide from this man. Nerdy glasses or not, he saw right through me. I had the sudden urge to flee. And never look back.

  Well, maybe just a peek to see if he was watching, or following…

  “Have dinner with me.”

  What? I gaped at him, his words so unexpected they left me momentarily speechless. He was joking, right?

  He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll admit it’s a little late for dinner. So, how about a drink, then?”

  I stared at him. Was he serious?

  He gazed into my eyes as if I was the most beautiful woman on earth and he was fascinated by me. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Heat again swept up my neck and into face. Awareness snaked through me again. I don’t think a man had ever stared at me quite like that before. With such…intensity. I didn’t want to be flattered, but I was. He knew how to make a woman feel special. When he looked at me like that, I felt pretty. Sexy.

  I gave myself a mental slap. What the hell?

  This man probably flirted with every woman he met. I was nothing special. A man like him probably dated models and actresses. While I wasn’t a plain Jane, I wasn’t beautiful, either. I’d been told on more than one occasion that I had “pretty eyes”, but that was the extent of any flattery I’d ever received.

  Don’t fall for his charm. Stay professional.

  “Um, I’m working,” I squeaked out.

  He wasn’t deterred. “Then I’ll wait. When do you get off?”

  Was he serious? What the hell was he doing? Playing a joke on me? “Sorry. I’m not interested.”

  Though his face stayed the same, disappointment flickered in his eyes. “Come on, doll. Just one drink.”

 

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