“Yeah, no worries!” he called back.
She changed into her favorite pair of leather pants. She didn’t get to wear them enough, sticking to jeans when she was running around on errands. She grabbed a few shredded tank tops and layered them, then spent a moment frowning. Should she cover up the scar between her breasts or not? It wasn’t like she could hide the missing finger, and if the night went well, some guy would be seeing her scars anyway…
She decided not to cover it and grabbed a light leather jacket. She knew Charlie was waiting on her to get moving, so she couldn’t just hide out. She slipped into her favorite boots. She didn’t own any heels. She would probably look good in them, but she didn’t want to be over six feet tall. The boots added an inch, and that put her at six feet even; she had no need or desire to be much taller. It was hard enough to get laid, since she really liked men taller than her; she didn’t need to make it impossible.
“Let’s go, old man,” she laughed, walking back into the living room. Charlie looked her over and nodded, satisfied. She was sliding a ring on her right middle finger when he finally started moving again.
“Come on,” he chuckled. She was quiet as they walked into the garage. She got into her own car, and Charlie led them to their favorite biker bar in his truck. She slid out of her car and followed him inside. She saw the ring girls having beers in a booth and the more regular fighters scattered around the bar, talking to women. She left Charlie as he walked to the booth and immediately hit the bar. Him and those ring girls. Sawyer shuddered at the thought. She should have never asked.
“Whiskey.” She wasn’t in the mood for anything else. She found that the one she had earlier in the night had hit the spot. When she got her drink, she turned and looked over the bar. Some new faces that she wanted to pay attention to, but no one she found interesting enough. Damn.
She turned back to the bartender and sighed. He chuckled at her, took her glass, and topped it off, even though she had only taken three swallows. She and Jeffery had a connection, though they never spoke to each other beyond drink orders.
She sat on a stool, placing her elbows on the bar as she drank. By the end of her drink, the bar was getting more crowded, not less. By two a.m., all the seats in the bar were taken, and she knew that Fight Night had followed the fighters to the bar.
“Another, Jeffery,” she sighed, sliding her empty glass to the bartender. He nodded and began pouring her a new one, leaving his other orders waiting.
“Let me pay for that,” a deep, country-accented voice said over her right shoulder. It was friendly and masculine. This guy was out looking for a good time. She slid off her stool and turned slowly so she could see this new option for her night. He was obviously making the first move, and that seriously impressed her.
She didn’t believe in the gods, from any pantheon, but she knew one when she saw one. Not really, he was just another Magi like her, but holy shit. She thought the Italian was handsome? Ha. Ha. Ha.
He towered over her by more than a few inches, and his hazel eyes danced brightly under the shadow of his black cowboy hat. It hid the color of his hair, but that didn’t matter. Hell, he could have been balding, and she wouldn’t have cared. He had a warm face and an easy-going smile that had more than a touch of cockiness to it. He knew he looked good with a couple days scruff on his jaw. She looked down his body slowly, taking her sweet time. She was in no rush as she took in the man’s physique. Thick neck, broad shoulders and chest, trim waist, arms bigger than her thighs, and his legs, in blue jeans, promised to be just as defined as the rest of him.
“Having a good time there, gorgeous? Going to take me out to dinner before you undress me in your head?” He chuckled. His southern accent brought out her own, something she worked hard to hide, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“We’re past that point,” she laughed, giving him a smirk. “I’ll take your name, though, before I fuck you in my imagination.” She waited a long time for that piece of information as he looked her over just as slowly as she had done to him. At least she and Mr. Cowboy were on the same page. She saw the heat in his eyes as he looked over her toned legs wrapped in leather. “What, I don’t get even a name before you undress me, big fella? Like what you see?”
“Evan. I hate bars, but I would love to see more nearly anywhere else. You?”
Well, he was forward. So was she, but she had just gotten a fresh drink. She needed to slow them right on down. She was here to get laid, but she was far too sober.
“My name is Cambrie,” she chuckled. Time to bring out the middle name for hookups, she thought. “I’ll make you a deal. You stand there, look good for an hour, let me wear the hat, and I’ll follow you anywhere. Also, keep the drinks coming, Cowboy.”
His laugh was booming. He immediately dropped the cowboy hat on her head and leaned down to her.
“Just promise me that you know how to ride.” He winked. She tipped the hat’s brim, a dare for him to try and find out later.
“Riding is the easy part, Cowboy,” she told him confidently.
“Ride a lot, do you?” He leaned on the bar, looking down on her. The cowboy hat was just a little too big, and she had to push it up to keep her eyes on his.
“I’ve never ridden a horse in my life.” She shook her head with a laugh at the face he gave her. She knew where his mind had taken that comment. “Motorcycles are more my thing.”
“Find yourself on the back of a lot of motorcycles then?” He raised an eyebrow back at her, and she shook her head again.
“No, Sugar.” She poked his chest. Sugar. God, sometimes the Georgia just fell right out of her mouth and she couldn’t stop it. It might have been the cowboy in front of her and his own accent bringing hers on. “I ride my own. Got a problem with it?”
“Not at all.” He raised his hands. “I love the idea that you can handle something big and powerful. That’s a good skill to have. What do you ride?”
Did everything he said have to sound like he wanted her to ride him into the sunset? This guy was gloriously good at making a woman feel wanted. Shivers ran up her spine at the thought. Very good shivers.
“My BMW R 1200 R is my favorite, but I’ve owned a few over the years.” She shrugged. “You ride?”
“I don’t have any motorcycles, but I have a few things I like to race. Don’t get to go out with them as much as I want.” He sighed and shrugged back at her.
“I feel you.” She nodded. “Never enough time, and the nice days just go too fast.”
“Amen.” He ordered himself a Jack Daniels and sipped on it. “Where you from?”
“Georgia.” She smiled out to the bar, a little wistful for a moment. She missed the simplicity of it sometimes. Only sometimes.
“Long way from home, then,” he said as he stepped closer to her. “I’m from Texas, but currently live in Georgia, myself. Miss the hell out of it while I’m away.”
They talked about everything and nothing after that. Work (she kind of lied), family (she definitely lied), what hobbies they had (she didn’t lie on this one).
“You like working on engines?” He sounded a bit shocked. “You’re a hobby mechanic?”
“Yeah, give me a tool kit and a little fixer-upper and I’ll stay in the garage for days. I like doing things with my hands.” She grinned, raising one of her eyebrows. She hadn’t been able to work on anything in months, too wrapped up with everything else going on in her life. Bringing it up reminded her how much she missed toying around with mechanics.
“You want to do something with those hands tonight?” he asked her seductively, leaning in close, his broad chest close to her own. Her hour was up, and this guy had a one-track mind she could appreciate.
She put down the empty glass that had been her third drink and ran her right hand across his chest. She was a little tipsy at this point, so her sex kitten was coming out to play.
“Damn right, I do.” She stepped back and beckoned him to follow with a finger. “My place?”
>
“I think your place is perfect,” he growled softly, a smile on those full lips. She would be enjoying those soon enough. “I’ve got a rental for my trip up here, so if you’re okay riding with me…”
“We’ll take my car. It’s nicer than a rental.” She smiled and continued moving toward the door. She also wasn’t leaving it in a parking lot all night.
They rode in relative silence, Sawyer enjoying the buzz she had going and the anticipation of a nice night with this gorgeous man. When they got to her place, he helped her out of the car and pulled her close to him. Finally, a chance to get an idea of what he was packing.
And he was packing. It pressed into her stomach, and she swallowed at the prospective size of it. Well. Her inner sex kitten was going to climb trees tonight.
He kissed her, pushing her into the side of the Audi in the garage, and she gasped from the rough, sensual nature of it. His hands roamed her sides, pushing her tanks up and exploring the bare skin of her hips. He kissed her jawline down to her neck, then back up to her ear. He nibbled her ear lobe, making her moan from want.
“We should go to my room,” she mumbled, distracted by what he was doing.
“We should. Tell me how to get there,” he growled softly, grinding his hips against her own. He picked her up and led her legs to wrap around his waist. Now this was something she could get used to. “You got protection, sweet thing?”
“I’m protected,” she whispered. She had magical protection, actually. It cost a pretty penny, but the enchanted ring on her right hand kept her from getting pregnant while she wore it.
“Thank fuck,” he chuckled, wrapping a hand in her hair and kissing her before she was finally able to give him directions up to the apartment over the gym.
The moment the apartment door was locked behind them, they were all over each other again. Her hands were under his shirt, and she let her nails trail over his exceptional abs, making him groan and squeeze her ass roughly. She thrilled at the strength in him.
Once they were in her room, he dropped her on the bed and moved her hands over her head, kissing her as he held her down with one hand. She wasn’t paying attention to his second arm as it went above her head as well. She was focused on his mouth on her neck, on her jawline, on her ears, and finally her lips. Fuck, Evan knew what he was doing.
She was, however, paying attention to the handcuffs she heard click into place.
“Well, Evan, I’m just not into that.” She leveled a stare at him and tried to go into her smoke form to get out of the cuffs. She couldn’t. Oh, fuck. The heavy sensation of her magic being locked away from her suddenly became very apparent. No.
“Well, my name is Elijah,” he growled, lifting off her. His tone was still playful, but she was definitely not feeling this hookup anymore. “And those are enchanted, so they block your abilities. Specifically, yours, Sawyer. So, let’s not beat around the bush.” He pulled something out of his back pocket, and she felt the cold rush of realization at the badge he flashed and his use of her real name. “I’m actually Special Agent Elijah Grant with the International Magi Police Organization, and you are now in the custody of the World Magi Council and the IMPO.”
“You fucking imp,” she growled, sitting up and bringing her hands in front of her. Imp was a derogatory term for agents of the International Magi Police Organization, or the IMPO for short. They hated getting called that most of the time, but this ass seemed completely unfazed.
She couldn’t blink or phase. She couldn’t do fucking anything. She kicked out at him and he grabbed her leg and flipped her over, so she was on her stomach.
“Fuck you, asshole!”
“Calm down,” Elijah chuckled. “The rest of my team will be here soon enough, and then you are going to have a long talk with us.”
“You can go rot,” she hissed, looking over her shoulder at him. He had her legs pinned to the bed, and she couldn’t kick at him anymore.
“Sawyer, calm the fuck down. You’re only cuffed so you won’t run.” He groaned, and she was mildly disturbed by the fact that he still had a hard on while he held her pinned for his team to get there.
She heard the front door open and close minutes later. Footsteps of several people could be heard, and she bucked wildly.
She was fucking arrested. Of all the ways her Friday night could go, she went and found the one guy in the bar who would fucking arrest her.
No, she didn’t find him. He had targeted her, and the fact that he knew she was there… That had implications she didn’t want to consider.
When had she gotten sloppy?
The fucked job when Axel had set her up. She’d been so worried about Axel that she’d forgotten to cover her tracks better. Holy fuck. She’d been so worried he would show up, she didn’t consider the fucking IMPO. Of all the fucking things.
“Hmmm,” Elijah mumbled to himself. “I’ll have to remind Z that he owes me a hundred bucks when he gets here. He said this wouldn’t work…”
“I’m right here,” another voice said. It tugged at a memory, but Sawyer couldn’t place it. “I’ll pay you later, asshole.” Elijah finally got off her, and she took the chance to throw a kick at him, hitting his thigh.
“Holy shit, mother fucker, goddamn it,” he groaned louder, obviously in pain this time. Someone grabbed her leg, so she kicked with the other, rolling over to see who was stupid enough to touch her.
The red hair left her stunned. The brilliant green eyes left her speechless. The freckles she could still count to the very last one made the blood leave her head, making her a little faint.
The face from her past was staring down at her, trying to hold back a grin. Z. Zander Wade. Her best friend and the guy she gave her virginity. Standing in her bedroom wearing black combat gear and holding her leg to keep her from kicking again.
“Nice to see you, Sawyer.” He grinned and kept his tone friendly. “It’s been a long time.”
A long time. Nine years. She didn’t respond, but she knew her mouth was open. He didn’t have gauged ears when she last saw him. He hadn’t been inked so much that even his neck was covered. But even with those superficial changes, he hadn’t changed at all. Well, he was taller. He looked to be about Elijah’s height.
“Jasper’s here too, in the living room. We were recruited into the IMPO after a couple of years with IMAS. How have you been?” Zander didn’t move, only kept talking. Elijah was rubbing his thigh, looking between them, as if he expected a bomb to go off.
“What the fuck?” was the first thing out of her mouth.
“Should have figured that would be what you had to say,” Zander sighed, looking at Elijah. “Help me get her out there?”
“If she promises not to try and send my balls back into my body.” Elijah looked at her, and she hissed, baring her teeth. “I think that’s a no.”
“Don’t be a coward,” Zander chuckled. “You won a Benjamin from me, dick, but now you get to deal with the pissed off woman it cost you.”
They both reached for her at the same time, and she finally snapped back into action. She didn’t care if it was Zander. He was IMPO, and she wasn’t going to fucking jail. She kicked out with both legs; but the guys were ready for her, each grabbing one leg and yanking her off the bed. Her back hit the floor with a thump, and the air got knocked out of her.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “What the hell?”
“We wouldn’t have done that, if you hadn’t tried to fight,” Zander sighed. “Now let us get you into the living room without any more stupid shit, Sawyer.”
“Was she like this growing up?” Elijah reached down and hauled her up with one arm. She shook him off the moment she was on her feet, glaring at the gorgeous trap they had set. Gorgeous. Fucking. Trap.
“Yeah.” Zander nodded, watching her. “Come on, Sawyer. Living room.”
“I’m not seven, asshole,” she growled. “I can go where I damn well please.”
“Actually, you’re in the custody of several IMPO Special
Agents, so you can’t.” Elijah laughed, grabbing her elbow and hauling her out of the bedroom. Zander stayed next to her until she was nearly tossed into one of her dining room chairs.
She looked around the room and frowned. Yeah, there was Jasper, still looking like the star of some football team, even though he had never played the sport a day in his life. Maybe he picked it up, but she didn’t think so, not with his old knee injury. She also recognized the other one. That fucking Italian.
“Sawyer,” Jasper whispered, staring at her. She couldn’t identify the emotion on his face, but whatever it was, he wasn’t very good at hiding it. “You look…”
“Let’s not go there,” she mumbled, looking away from him. “So, where am I going to prison?”
11
SAWYER
“You’re not,” the Italian told her blandly. “You’re being forcefully brought into protective custody. For your own safety.”
She snapped her head over to him and frowned, bringing her eyebrows together. What? She focused on the darks curls, refined face, and… olive-green eyes. Darker than Axel’s, but she instantly hated this guy because of them. He really looked nothing like Axel, even with the similar eyes. She hadn’t gotten this close of a look before, but she knew he irked her for a reason. He reminded her of Axel.
“Can you elaborate?” She didn’t trust him, and it wasn’t just his looks. Something about the way he spoke and the way he behaved, disinterested and reserved, set off warning bells in her head. It was completely different than his attitude in the locker room had been.
“Sawyer, our team was called in to investigate the LA incident with Axel.” Jasper leaned forward in his seat, closer to her. “We saw what happened there and tracked you down to keep you alive.”
“Well,” the Italian kept his reserved tone and his nearly cold and calculating look, “they did. I’m here because I want you to tell me everything you know about him.”
“Vincent.” Elijah swatted his arm. “Can you… just not with that for one night?”
The Redemption Saga Box Set Page 9
