by Mia Dymond
“It’s allowed. No more than two per shift.”
He cast a glance at the empty bar stool next to him and then leaned his elbows on the bar. “Are the cameras recording?”
Jack nodded.
He lifted the bottle, drew the cold liquid into his mouth and attempted to swallow - attempted, because his vision was suddenly invaded by a sight that literally threatened to choke him. With an iron will, he pushed the liquid down his throat then quickly set the bottle back on the counter.
Sweet Mary, Mother of God.
The woman standing next to Jack at the cash register was a vision of beauty. Her long blonde hair draped her shoulders, the sides pulled back from her face and pinned to the top of her head with some sort of clip that resembled a claw. Her eyes held him hostage for several seconds – greenish blue with flakes of gold glittering back at him as he stared. Determined to look his fill, he moved his gaze down her body and then up again. Although she was dressed in a nice, cleavage-admiring top and hip-hugging jeans, his imagination ran wild with the thought of what was beneath.
She couldn’t have been more than a couple inches over five feet tall, but she had curves that made her legs go on for days. And her breasts – man, her breasts were full and tight and would fill his palms perfectly. He fought the urge to slobber like a rabid dog. His hands itched to touch her and maybe it was his imagination but he thought he saw her nipples tighten beneath her clothing.
The sound of her clearing throat made him meet her gaze again and smirk. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” As if her body wasn’t temptation enough, her soft, sultry voice reached across the bar and squeezed his cock as her plump, pink lips split into a smile and she extended a hand. “Tess Michaels.”
He slid his hand into her tiny hold. “Ranger.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ranger.”
“Just Ranger.” He jumped on the opportunity to correct her – partly because he hated formality but mostly because he wanted to hear that voice.
“Okay, Ranger. How’s your first night on the job?”
Still reeling from both his earlier perusal of her body and now the sound of her voice, it took him a few seconds to formulate a response. “Has anyone ever told you that you should be a phone sex operator?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he fought the urge to flinch. In fact, he expected her to leap over the bar and clobber him.
Instead, she simply shrugged. “All the time. Some say I was Marilyn Monroe in a former life.”
“Sorry.” He owed her the second apology.
“Again, no you’re not.”
She was exactly right. He wasn’t sorry. The sound of her voice was downright cock-strangling and he wasn’t bothered at all to tell her so. He smirked. And, she wasn’t afraid to call him on it.
He quickly harnessed his libido and pulled himself back into character. Bouncer, new employee, undercover investigator. Never mind the hard-on that thumped his belly.
“Are you a dancer?”
Jack coughed. “No, Tess is my bookkeeper.”
“Yes,” she agreed, obviously ignoring his half-assed attempt at ignorance, while she turned and punched a button on the cash register to open the drawer. “And I need your deposit.”
In not more than several seconds, she grabbed each section of cash, reached into each coin tray, and then thumbed through the cash in her palm.
“$3,314.30,” she told Jack as she closed the drawer.
Ranger frowned. “You totaled that quickly.”
“Yes,” she answered.
“How?”
“In my head.”
He glanced at Jack, still confused. Had she really counted the cash that fast? Or did she just rattle off some random number?
“She’s never wrong.” Jack said as she placed the cash in a vinyl, zippered pouch.
Tess zipped the bag and added it to the others on the counter. “That makes $12,380.29 so far tonight. Business is good.”
Ranger practically fell from his barstool in awe. “You know the exact total without adding each bag?”
She smirked. “Yes, I do.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.” She rolled her eyes in obvious sarcasm and then picked up the money bags. “I’ll be in my office, preparing the bank deposit. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ranger.”
“Ranger,” he reminded her, “and it was exceptionally nice to meet you, Tess.”
***
He checked his Rolex one last time and palmed his phone to send out the order. He would not tolerate non-compliance. Several had tried his patience and learned the attempt was fruitless. He lifted the device to dial when it vibrated in his hand. No need for cordial conversation.
“Speak,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“I need more time.”
“We discussed your request; I extended your timeline.”
“Yes, and I appreciate your accommodation. I’m just not sure I can meet it.”
“You believe you have a choice?”
“I am honest when I tell you it will benefit both of us if I can have just a few more hours.”
“Perhaps you do not understand our original agreement.”
“I do understand, I just want to extend you the courtesy of participating in increased profit.”
He released a deep chuckle. “Do you honestly believe your meager offering will sway my decision?”
“I can guarantee you I will not provide a meager offering.”
“I will not lengthen your timeline. If you can provide what you claim, do it within the required time.”
“Respectfully sir, if you will reconsider I assure you that you will be satisfied.”
“Your request is beginning to anger me. I am a very busy man and your repeated nonsense is tiring. Perhaps I will assign you a handler – someone who can explain the protocol in vivid detail.”
“No. No need for those measures.” The caller’s denial held a distinct note of desperation, one he recognized well.
“I must admit, your first deposit was healthy. Can you guarantee the same result?”
“Absolutely.”
“I will wait until noon tomorrow, but not one minute longer. I strongly suggest you get your affairs in order because rest assured, I will come for you if you do not comply. Do I make myself clear?”
Relief was evident in the response. “Crystal. Thank you, sir. I promise, you will not be disappointed.”
“No, I will not.”
***
By the end of the night, Tess practiced great self-restraint to keep from sprinting across the room and down the hallway leading to her office after she collected Jack’s final cash draw from the bar. Not because she was anxious to escape, but rather because she was afraid of what might have happened had she stayed. Ranger had been present both times, throwing her hormones into a frenzy and severely testing her concentration skills.
She settled on a fast-paced walk, relieved when she finally stood behind a locked door. She braced her back against the barrier, took several deep breaths in an effort to calm her rapid heartbeat, and attempted to pull air through her lungs.
Ranger was one fine-looking, panty-dampening specimen. She’d watched him during each one of her rounds to collect cash, his dominance impossible to miss. Muscles rippled beneath his tight, black regulation t-shirt as he moved around the crowd. He was like a panther on the prowl, his stride smooth and determined, his mysterious brown eyes focused on the swarms of people around him.
When she’d stood behind the bar, she’d gotten a closer look. His short, brown hair told her he was most likely either ex-military or ex-cop like most of Jack’s bouncers. The five o’clock shadow that covered his face, however, didn’t fit either persona. And quite frankly, she didn’t care – she was more interested in what it would feel like rubbed across several strategic areas of her body.
He towered her – although her short, five-foot two-inch stature meant that most people did. She measured him at a couple
inches over six feet, a height that dictated she stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. That thought widened her eyes. Kiss him? She knew absolutely nothing about this man other than Jack had hired him to keep order in the club. Why on Earth would she even entertain the thought of kissing him?
She knew exactly why. Not only was he strikingly handsome, he oozed confidence – a cocky air of I dare you to cross me.
He was also a flirt – a respectable flirt, but a flirt just the same. He made no excuses for perusing her body across the bar when they met, yet he had taken the time to apologize. Not that she believed he was sorry – the look of pure male appreciation in his eyes told her that he was not remotely apologetic – but she respected him for not denying his interest. And his comment about her phone-sex operator voice cemented his honesty.
Obviously, he hadn’t recognized her. Or, didn’t say anything if he did. Then again, he didn’t strike her as the type to read the society pages of the newspaper and the people working here didn’t run in her usual circles. Perhaps he simply expressed his honest interest. That thought caused a wave of heat across her body and boosted her impression of him even higher on the I-want-him scale.
Kiss him? Yeah, she’d kiss him alright – kiss him senseless while he wrapped his big, strong arms around her hips and squeezed tight.
A delightful shudder climbed her spine as she pushed herself off the door and sat behind her desk. Maybe he’d still be around at closing time and she’d ask him a few questions of her own.
Lost in continued lustful analysis, she nearly fell from her chair when a knock sounded on the door.
“Tess?”
Her cheeks heated when she heard Ranger’s voice on the other side. “Yes?”
“It’s Ranger. Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She nearly leapt from the chair, covering the distance to the door in seconds, and then unlocked both the knob and the deadbolt. “Come on in.”
Her heartbeat resumed its earlier jungle rhythm when he braced himself in the doorway instead. “Actually, I’d like to take you for a cup of coffee.”
“Now?”
He gave her an amused smirk. “Yes, the front doors are locked.”
“Oh.” She mentally kicked herself for not checking the time and then decided to challenge his smirk. “I don’t drink coffee.”
“Tea?”
Although his smirk disappeared, he didn’t appear to be discouraged by her answer and she got the impression he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Besides, she had no intention of denying his invitation.
She allowed herself a small grin. “Okay. Where?”
“Cuppa Joe’s is right across the street.”
“I’ll meet you there after I drop the cash into the safe.”
“Not necessary. Jack said he’d take care of it tonight.”
“You discussed coffee with Jack?”
“No, I just asked him to take care of the cash.”
“And assumed I would go with you.”
“Yes.” The smirk returned. “You did agree.”
“Maybe I’ll take it back.”
“No you won’t.”
She raised both eyebrows, ignoring the fact that his challenge generated a heatwave between her legs. “Oh yeah? And why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re just as curious about me as I am about you.” He pushed himself off the doorframe. “Lock the door and let’s go.”
“Since I don’t carry a purse when I’m working,” she said as she grabbed her keys from the desk and stuffed them in her pocket, “you’re buying.”
The bold, bitter aroma of brewing coffee greeted her as Ranger held open the door to the coffeehouse and gestured with one hand for her to enter. She wasn’t surprised by the crowd already gathered there, nor was she surprised to see many of Jack’s customers seated at nearby tables. Since Cuppa Joe’s was open 24 hours, much of the club’s clientele headed there after closing time to wind down after the evening’s excitement.
Ranger nudged her with a shoulder. “What’s your poison?”
“Earl Grey.”
“Grab us a table and I’ll order.”
Out of habit, she headed for a table in the very back corner of the room and purposely took the chair facing the counter. She split her lips into a satisfied smirk. From her vantage point, the view was absolutely lip-lickingly amazing.
Ranger stood at the counter, his broad shoulders and muscled biceps on display. His low but rich, deep voice filled the air, traveling the distance to the table and teasing her nerve-endings. The young girl at the counter giggled and then shrugged as she snapped lids on two paper coffee cups. Tess chuckled under her breath. Flirt.
Ranger picked up the cups and then headed toward her, his trademark cocky smirk on his handsome face. Mesmerized by the picture of pure male sauntering her direction, Tess caught a flash of something on his arm, peeking from beneath the cuff of his t-shirt. Something black that she only saw once when he made a certain movement.
She watched closely as he placed the cups on the table and then sat opposite her, curious when she didn’t see the mark again.
“Do you have a tattoo?”
Since she was fairly confident in her observation, she expected a quick admission. Instead, he raised his eyebrows.
“Were you checking me out?”
“No, I just noticed something on your arm. Either you have a major bruise, or you have a tattoo.”
“You were checking me out.”
“Okay, fine. Yes, I was checking you out.” She leaned forward and squinted at his right biceps. “Do you have a tattoo or not?”
“Do you?”
Although his avoidance somewhat irritated her, she found it extremely arousing. Two could play his game.
She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe.”
“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
She fully expected a response close to the one he offered, but still her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She wasn’t surprised by his words, she was surprised that she really wanted to show him hers.
“So, you do have a tattoo.”
He released a full, hearty laugh. “Yes. Do you?”
“No.” She lifted her cup to her mouth, swallowed, and then returned it to the table. “But I’d like to see yours.”
Rather than put her out of her misery, he held her gaze hostage in his. Not really in the mood for patience, she squeezed her hands against her cup and waited him out to see if he would comply. Seconds ticked by in the silence between them. Her hormones screamed for satisfaction while her thighs tightened. It’s just a tattoo, she reasoned with herself. But, it wasn’t just the ink etched on his skin that attracted her; the allure, the mystery, the masculinity fueled her wanton desire.
In her mind’s eye, a silent movie flashed. She watched in sheer arousal as she leapt across the table, straddled his lean hips, and then tore the pesky cotton from his body. Although she hadn’t seen him gloriously naked, her imagination ran wild with the sight. No doubt, his chest and stomach muscles were just as impressive as his biceps. And she hoped upon hope he’d taken time to carve the sexy v-cut in his obliques. Her lips tingled as she placed them against his chest, kissing her way from one side to the other and finally opening her mouth over one pectoral and nipping the skin there.
She inhaled and then released a long, slow breath, bringing herself back to reality as her libido threw a major fit. If he didn’t show the tattoo soon, she was going to have to warn him.
Finally, he grinned and pushed up his right cuff. If she had not been seated, her knees would’ve buckled and she would’ve given the tile a nice, long French kiss.
Vertically on the top of his biceps, a wolf stared back at her. Inked in black, its massive head covered the entire surface of his bulging muscle with its ears perked as if sensing her overwhelming attraction. Ranger shifted slightly and she coul
d’ve sworn the tips of the creature’s fur rippled with the action, as if a wind had blown through the room and ruffled the hair. Green eyes glowed and captured her gaze, as if daring her to stare further. Hypnotized by both the beauty and danger of the animal, she forced her gaze downward to the pointed muzzle which had been inked so creatively that she wondered if it would come away moist if she touched. And then she noticed the mouth, closed and curved into a very familiar, almost cocky smirk.
She raised her gaze from the artwork. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Like hell.” He smirked and suddenly she saw the wolf. “But I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” She lifted her cup and took a sip of tea in an attempt to soothe her dry mouth. “Why did you decide on a wolf?”
“I served eight years as an Army Ranger. All the guys in my unit have the same tattoo.”
Admiration warmed her heart as she digested the silent meaning of his explanation. In her work with Wounded Heroes, she’d learned that military units such as his were families, bonded together for life. The wolves were a prime example.
“Is that where you got your name?”
“No. Enlisted, I was Master Sergeant Matthew Brooks – Brooks most of the time. I inherited Ranger after my discharge.”
She turned her thoughts back to her first impression of him. “I had a feeling you might have been a soldier.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I do volunteer work for Wounded Heroes. There’s just something about military men that suggests they’re a cut above the rest.”
“Like attitude?”
“That, and mannerism.”
“How so?”
“In your case, direct eye contact. I’m willing to bet you’re skilled in something that requires extreme concentration.”
“I was a sharpshooter.” He grinned. “What else?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re very polite and respectful.” She raised an eyebrow. “At least you admitted you were appreciating my body behind the bar.”
