by Lora Leigh
Fuck. He had to do this quick.
“I’ll be right back. Just hang out here.”
Ava looked around, probably not thrilled with the prospect of being left alone in this part of the city. He couldn’t blame her but there wasn’t much he could do about it. If for some reason this sale went bad and he got busted he didn’t want her in there with him.
“I promise, I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and he strolled inside, the envelope tucked into the inside of his jacket.
The only person working was a guy sporting a red Mohawk and more tattoos than he could count.
“I need to see T-bone.”
The dude lifted his head. “Yeah? Why?”
Rick shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess Bo thought I could get a good deal on whiskey here.”
T-bone eyed him up and down. “I’m T-bone. What kind of whiskey you like?”
“Jack Daniel’s.”
T-bone nodded. “That’ll work.”
T-bone rang up the small bottle of Jack. Rick put it in his jacket, then circled out the front door, raised his hand to Ava to tell her to stay put. He strolled around the corner and toward the back of the store. T-bone was waiting for him. Rick handed him the package. T-bone opened it, nodded, and handed Rick an envelope. Rick pulled it open and flipped through the bills. Satisfied it was the right amount of money, Rick slid the envelope into his inside coat pocket. Without a word he went back to the bike.
“Where did you go?” Ava asked as Rick put on his helmet and got back on the bike.
“I had to take a leak.”
She laughed, which meant she’d bought his excuse. “Oh. How convenient to be a guy where the world is your urinal.”
He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “Isn’t it?” He started up the bike and headed out of there, hating that he’d just broken the law, even if he was undercover and therefore immune from prosecution. It still didn’t sit right with him. But he had to do what was necessary to stay with the Hellraisers, and saying no to Bo wasn’t an option.
“Where are we going now?” Ava asked over his shoulder.
“Back to the hotel.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They parked the bike and headed to the elevators. Ava frowned when Rick pushed the button.
“That’s not our floor.”
“No, it’s not. I need to stop at Bo’s room for a minute.”
“Why?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Couldn’t you just call him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He rolled his eyes as they walked down the hallway. Intelligent women were really difficult sometimes. “Because I need to talk to him in person.”
“Why?”
Fortunately, they got to the door just in time. He was running out of lame responses. He knocked. No answer. Knocked again, harder this time, hoping he’d be heard over the loud music and laughter coming from Bo’s room. The door finally opened. Bo stood there, shirtless, a bottle of beer in his hands, his jeans unbuttoned.
“Oh, hey. Come on in. We’re partying.”
Yeah, partying was right. Rick smelled the pot as soon as Bo had opened the door. Lacey was on the bed, obviously drunk—or maybe stoned—laughing her ass off with some other girl. Another guy sat on the chair smoking a joint and drinking a beer.
Lacey wore only her jeans and her bra. She was barefoot. Her jeans button was undone. The other girl was in her underwear. The guy in the chair had his shirt off, too.
And the room wasn’t so hot they needed to be stripping due to the room temperature, so there was some fun going on in here.
He should have taken Ava to her room first.
Then again, this was a good opportunity to gauge her reaction to hard-core partying.
She didn’t seem uncomfortable, just went into the room and sat on the edge of the bed and started talking to Lacey and the other girl. Lacey introduced Ava to the girl and they engaged in conversation.
So far, so good.
“How about a beer?” Bo asked, motioning Rick into the bathroom where there was a cooler in the tub.
“Sure.”
Rick followed, and Bo turned to him. “Did you make the drop?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the envelope out and handed it to Bo, who pulled out the money, counted it, then handed some over to Rick.
“Any problems?”
“None.”
“Good.” Bo pocketed the cash and fished into the cooler for two beers, handed them to Rick. “I’ll have more work for you, then.”
“You can count on me. I need the cash.”
Bo slapped him on the back. “That’s what I like to hear, buddy.”
They stepped into the room again and Rick handed Ava a beer as he walked by. She looked up at him and smiled. He took a seat on one of the chairs and propped his feet on the edge of the other bed to watch her, conscious of her watching Lacey interact with the other girl, whose name was Rachel.
Rachel was a hard-core biker chick, born and bred to the lifestyle with bleached blond hair that fell to her shoulders, well tattooed on various parts of her body, and a scar or two that said she’d had to fight for her life on several occasions. She looked tough, like she’d seen a lot and been a lot of places—places a nicely bred daughter of a senator had probably never been.
Ava seemed to be studying Rachel, too, and not saying much to either Rachel or Lacey, just watching the way the two women interacted with each other. Ava was more of an observer, though Lacey seemed to be trying to get Ava involved in whatever game Lacey was trying to play.
Rick wondered just what kind of game that was—and how into it Ava would be.
Ava sat back and watched Lacey interact with Rachel, wondering if Lacey had undergone an entire personality transplant. Because Lacey had transformed into a complete stranger.
Gone was the shy, introverted best friend she’d always known. In her place was a wild party girl, obviously drunk, stoned, or possibly both. She was half naked and lying on the bed with a tattooed, gorgeous woman and about to do—well who knew what had been going on between the two women and two men in this room when they had walked in? From the various states of undress, Ava could only guess at what had been going on.
She had to ask.
“Lace, what are you doing?”
Lacey turned glazed eyes in her direction. “Partying, honey. Come join us.” Lacey raised a bottle of beer and saluted Ava, then guzzled the remnants of the bottle and put it on the nightstand. “Hey, Bo, I need another brew. And another buzz.”
“Sure, babe.” Bo rose from his seat, went into the bathroom, and came back with an open bottle of beer. In his mouth was a lit joint, its pungent smell filling the small suite. He took a toke and handed it to Lacey, who inhaled deeply, held it, and blew out the smoke with a satisfied smile before holding it out for Ava.
“You want some?”
Ava shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Lacey shrugged, giggled, and handed the joint off to Rachel.
Ava was no prude. She’d seen her fair share of wild sex and partying at college, though she hadn’t participated. She’d been exposed to plenty of drugs and alcohol at those parties, too. It was easy to just say no. And they both had. She and Lacey had been to a ton of parties, some of which had gotten pretty out of control. She’d admittedly stayed and watched a few that had gotten into full-on orgy mode, though she was mostly a sideline viewer. And Lacey hadn’t wanted part of any of it, including drinking, doing any kind of drugs, or participating in the unbound sex romps that always seemed to be happening in the dorms or the frat houses.
Now, Ava sat on the edge of the bed watching Lacey, who didn’t seem tentative or turned off at all. Rachel leaned back on her elbows while Lacey leaned over her and smoothed her hands over Rachel’s hair. Ava had to swallow a gasp when Lacey kissed Rachel.
“That’s hot, babe,” Bo said from his spot on the other bed, his erection clearly visible ag
ainst his tight jeans. “Keep doing that.”
Ava swiveled and caught Rick’s gaze. He, too, seemed riveted on the action between Lacey and Rachel. Ava rose from the bed and went over to Rick, who pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arm around her.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you?”
He gave her a half smile. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m good either way.”
She slid into the chair next to him. “Far be it for me to deny you some voyeuristic action. Go for it. You can even participate if you’d like.”
Rick pulled his gaze from the two women and leveled it on her. “But you’re just here to watch. You find the whole thing distasteful and you’re suppressing your puritan instincts for my benefit.”
She laughed. “I never claimed to be a puritan.”
“So maybe I just see you that way. Girl on girl and orgy just doesn’t seem to be your scene.”
“Really? And what does?”
He nuzzled her ear and whispered. “No clue, since I haven’t fucked you yet. I don’t know what you like … or don’t like.”
Her body heated at his blunt words, at the thought of Rick discovering in detail what she did like. “Wow, you just put it right out there, don’t you?”
“Do you want me to hedge?”
“I guess not.” She would rather know what he was thinking. She just wasn’t used to a man like him. Maybe that’s what made him so interesting, so sexy. He was a man who seemed to know exactly what he wanted and didn’t want.
“Do you want to leave right now, or stick around to see what happens?”
Sitting next to him, her thigh pressed against his, her breast against his chest—made her want only one thing. But she was here for Lacey. She needed to find out what the hell was going on with her best friend. And frankly, she was curious about what was going to happen in this room between these four people.
“I’d like to stay for a while.”
“Okay. But you might want to relax a little. Your elbow is poking my ribs.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She leaned back in the chair and Rick put his arm around her.
But relax? Not likely. Not watching what was going on in the bed.
Bo put his beer down, wiped his mouth, and crawled on the bed with the two women, got between them, framed Lacey’s face between his large hands, and planted a long, hard kiss on her lips. Lacey rolled over and wrapped her legs around Bo.
Bo’s friend—Nathan was his name, she thought—also got up and went over to the bed. Rachel straddled him and rocked her panty-clad pussy against his jeans while Nathan held her hips.
Bo shifted Lacey to the side so he could fondle her breasts through her bra and watch what Nathan and Rachel were doing. With his other free hand, he pulled the zipper down on Lacey’s jeans.
Ava felt like a dirty voyeur, like they should get up and leave. They shouldn’t be watching this. Then again, if the couples had wanted privacy, they would have said so, wouldn’t they? And they certainly wouldn’t be doing what they were doing while the other couple watched.
Still, Lacey was her best friend, and she’d never seen her best friend be so—intimate—with a man. It felt wrong. Yet, she couldn’t seem to muster up the willpower to tear her gaze away, or tell Rick they should leave. Instead, she gripped the arm of the chair with one hand, Rick’s thigh with the other, and tried to ignore the pinging arousal of every nerve ending in her body. Which was damned difficult to do with Rick sitting next to her. She heard him breathing, felt his gaze on her. She didn’t know who he was watching more—her or the foursome on the bed. She was afraid to glance over in his direction, not sure what she’d do if she made eye contact, if he was as aroused as she was.
Watching these couples shouldn’t turn her on, but it did. It was like a movie come to life, four couples writhing together on the bed. Touching, kissing, undressing each other. And though she knew she shouldn’t be there, nothing could tear her away.
If she was any friend at all, she’d drag Lacey out of there.
But Lacey was an adult and capable of making her own decisions. Gone were the teenaged days of having each other’s backs. Lacey’d made her choices. And if her choice was to engage in group sex in a stoned, drunken stupor, so be it.
And now Ava was bearing witness to it all, which should make her feel squeamish as hell, not hot and bothered.
But Ava realized it had nothing to do with her best friend being star of the show, and everything to do with a hard-bodied sexy male crushed tightly in the chair next to her. The room was hot and his scent filled the space around them. Earthy, musky, like leather and the outdoors, Rick’s scent obliterated the stale odor of pot and beer that permeated the room.
She found she’d much rather focus on him, smell him, look at him. He was way more appealing than the action on the bed. She shifted, tilting her hip into the chair so she partially faced him.
“You bored?” he asked, picking up a strand of her hair.
“Watching other people have sex isn’t nearly as much fun as doing it.”
He cupped her chin between his fingers and brushed his lips across hers. Feather light, the shock to her senses was electric, more powerful than if he’d bruised her with a demanding, hard kiss. It left her wanting more … much more, charging her nerve endings with tiny pinpricks of awareness. Her body felt alive, needy. And with each slow slide of his mouth across hers, she was the one who felt drugged, drunk, and all she’d had was two sips of beer. It wasn’t alcohol driving her haywire. It was Rick, making her forget where she was, even who she was. All she could think about was grabbing onto his leather jacket and drawing him closer, throwing her leg over his so she could rub her pussy against his thigh.
She was wet, the denim of her jeans pressing her panties into her moist flesh, making her aware of how much she wanted him, wanted this. When he pulled away, Ava glanced over at the bed.
Lacey’s jeans were off. So was her bra. Rachel was naked and Nathan’s mouth was latched onto one of her nipples.
Bo had moved Lacey underneath him and ground his jean-clad body against her, his hands all over her breasts while he kissed her.
The sensory overload was too much, the decadence exciting her to boiling point. She couldn’t take anymore of this.
She turned to Rick. “Take me out of here now and fuck me.”
He stood, offering his hand to pull her up.
In that split second she caught sight of his erection visible against his jeans. She shuddered and tilted her head, licked her lips.
Rick grabbed his jacket, hers, and walked them out of the room without a word. Really, there was nothing to be said. The others were too engrossed in their own passion to even care … or notice … that they were leaving.
And Ava was too intent on Rick to care about saying good-bye. There was only one thing she wanted now.
Rick.
SEVEN
Ava shivered in the elevator.
“You cold?”
She shook her head.
“Nervous?”
“No. Not nervous.”
Rick moved in, palmed the wall on either side of her shoulders, his erection making contact with her aching pussy. She nearly died right there, shocks of pleasure centered at her clit, right where he touched her.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Just get me to my room, unless you’re fond of elevator sex.”
His lips curled, and oh, God, the heat in the elevator tripled when he smiled like that. It was a good thing she had the wall at her back for support, because her legs were useless.
“I’m okay with elevator sex if you don’t think you can wait that long.”
Thank God the doors opened right then because she was just about ready to take him up on his offer. He took her hand and dragged her down the hall.
“Your room or mine?” he asked.
She’d already fished her key out of her bag. “Mine’s closer.”
>
He grabbed the key from her hand, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. She was inside, the door shut, and Rick had her in his arms a split second later. Their jackets fell to the floor. It was pitch-black in the room and she felt blind as Rick walked her backward a few steps until she hit the wall.
That’s as far as they got before his lips came crashing down on hers.
Ahh, contact. His body moved in, flush against hers so she could feel every muscle, every hard, throbbing part of him. His mouth was on hers, his tongue sliding inside to lick against hers. His hands roamed her shoulders, down her arms, stroking her hips and waist, traveling around to cup her buttocks and bring her even closer to the rock-hard heat of his cock.
His mouth did delicious things to her senses—what little senses she had left, anyway. All she could focus on was his touch, the way he tasted, the masterful way he held her—so firm and tight in his arms—and yet she sensed a strong desperation like maybe he, too, wanted this as badly as she did. Could that even be possible? Rick always seemed so laid-back, like nothing really mattered to him.
Did this matter?
When he pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her jeans and he laid his palm over the bare skin of her belly, she shuddered and tilted her head back, breaking the kiss. She needed air, some coherence, something to balance her. She felt out of control and she was never out of control. Sex had always been easy, a natural progression that arose out of dinner, a few drinks, being comfortable and relaxed with her partner.
This was anything but easy and relaxed. It was tense, agitated, crazy, a frenzy of passion and pent-up anxiety. Her entire body felt like it was ready to explode at the slightest touch—Rick’s touch. She couldn’t handle this.
“What’s wrong?”
She panted through the words. “I can’t …”
And then she felt Rick’s tension. He took a step back.
Oh, no. That’s not what she’d meant.
She didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“No.” She grabbed his arms. “Wait.” She wasn’t going to let this happen again. She wasn’t going to let him slide on the brakes because she hesitated. Because she feared that loss of control.
