LEATHER AND LACE (BAD BOYS & GOOD GIRLS, #1)

by Susan Arden

  “Well, look who’s come back to us.” Penrose’s soft twang rang out down the hall.

  “Christ!” he swore against the curve of Mia’s neck as he tugged down her dress hem. “Baby, don’t move.”

  Dealing with his fly and belt, he inhaled her fragrance, trying to figure out the logistics of where he could take her in the next five seconds. He’d haul her out through the emergency exit and into his truck. He pulled her against his torso, lifting the front of her dress. Now in the proverbial spotlight, he allowed a few inches between their bodies. Not much, but enough to save her from someone else getting an eyeful of him, grinding against her perfect ass, and for a much-needed second to catch his breath. His cock was so hard it throbbed painfully within the confines of his jeans.

  Mia groaned his name, and he expelled a soft curse under his breath. He took a full step away from the soft, glowing heat of her body, and he pivoted in time to see Pen’s shit-eating grin.

  “How’s it going, partner?” Pen kept his voice down.

  “I’m busy,” he growled, about to add ‘and leaving.’

  “Oh, I can see that. And who’s this?” Pen’s face changed from curiosity to disbelief. “Wait a minute. Wait a cotton-picking minute. I recognize you!”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” he retorted, wondering if Pen had lost it. “We’re on our way out.”

  “Out? What happened?” Pen asked in a low voice, finally mindful they were outside one of the rooms. “Did you just turn the researcher into an active member?”

  “Come again?” He felt Mia stiffen against him.

  “Looks like you’re about to. Bran, maybe I should have called the professionals months ago.”

  His whole body contracted from the strength of his urgent craving to get inside Mia and finish what they’d started. At first, it seemed like his brain was on fire and he couldn’t make sense of what his partner was jabbering on about. “You’re talking gibberish, Pen.”

  His partner crossed his arms and let go a low laugh. “Damn, man. It’s about time you serviced somebody again. But I never imagined it would be her.”

  He had to shut Pen down before his little spitfire turned tail and exited the hall and the building. Alone. Curling his fingers over the curve of Mia’s hip, he gently squeezed her.

  “Pen. Shut up.” Shit. He could barely speak. Not good when his partner had a tendency to ramble on about a million things, and over the years he’d learned to nod and half-listen. Where he was taciturn, Pen could talk the hind leg off a mule. Unfortunately, his loudmouth partner’s piss-poor timing had decided to interrupt the one moment when he could barely comprehend words, let alone draw an unfettered breath.

  Pen just laughed and shook his head. “Hot damn! Welcome back.”

  He exhaled, forcing the few words he could string together out of his mouth. “Speak English!” Glancing down, he spotted Mia’s panties on the floor, and bent, scooping up the scrap of lace. Rising, he pocketed her panties. He’d never been brought to this state before from a little dry-humping; but then again, he’d never been this far over the edge only to be cockblocked.

  “Don’t you know?” Pen’s eyes widened.

  “Apparently not.” Scrubbing his hand across his jaw, he stared at Pen’s face, studying his partner’s furrowed brow. Pen’s hands were shoved in his pockets. The body language was all off for his jokester partner.

  “Hey, sweetheart, didn’t you tell him your business?” Pen asked Mia, all traces of humor gone from his face.

  “What business?” he addressed Pen then shifted his gaze to Mia.

  What the hell was this about? He stepped farther from Mia as she pushed away from the wall.

  “God,” she groaned, then skittered more than a few inches away from him. “I’m sorry.”

  She started to move back as though she were on fire before she finally turned and stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes unblinking.

  His overarching thought was to reach out to her and haul her body against his. Claim her mouth in the kind of kiss that would leave them hungry and breathless. She didn’t say a word as they stared at one another. Mia just stood there, her chest heaving, and he wanted to find a cloak to cover her tits as her cleavage was about to spill over—again.

  He took a step toward her, unable to resist her magnetic draw or the highly charged, highly erotic connection he felt between them still in place. “Mia, what’s the deal?”

  “I tried to explain at the bar. Remember? I met with Mr. Penrose...last week.” She held up her palms, her eyes wide, and shook her head. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, pure silk teasing him, and really only served as a seductive frame to the most incredible pair of tits he’d ever fondled and craved to own—enough to make him lose his fucking mind.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered as though she were a spooked filly.

  She stared at him silent, her eyes turning liquid. Molten and then she bolted. He’d been ready all evening for this move and was right beside her, taking wide steps where she could only manage short ones given her tight dress and high heels. Except, she actually bolted. Around the corner and she raced to the end of the hall. Shit, was she some kinda Olympic high-heel sprinter?

  The exit up ahead was locked. Before she figured that out and really lost it, he reached out and took hold of her elbow, gently squeezing. “Stop running. Just talk to me.”

  She jerked her arm from his grasp. “I made a mistake.”

  She made it to the exit door, banged on the lever, but the door didn’t budge. It was deadbolted and only by code would it open. Before the closed-door, he put his hand around her thin bicep and gently pulled her back to him. She was a little slip of a thing, and one tug was all it took to stop her yanking, battling to be free.

  “Let me go,” she demanded without much conviction as he turned her around. Her dark eyes were backlit by a fire that spoke of something wild and stubborn and searching.

  “Whoa. Just stop a second. Mind explaining what Penrose was talking about? Researcher? What did Pen mean?”

  Truth Hurts

  BRANDON’S HOT gaze swept down from her face as if he were studying her or something. Was he actually watching her breathe? Whatever he was doing, his intense glare had her coming apart at the seams.

  “Stop staring at me,” she insisted indignantly.

  “I’ll do a good deal more than that if you don’t start talking,” he warned.

  His sharp tone made her stiffen. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I haven’t heard an answer yet. Have I? Coming here earlier and now. Obviously, you’re looking for something. All I want is a straight answer.”

  God, he wasn’t the only one.

  It wasn’t Brandon’s demand for the truth that perturbed her. Hell no. It was the roiling deep in her belly, the wild pulsations between her legs, and worse, her inability to resist this man. Damn. Damn. Double damn. She’d lied to herself. And now, she had no answers on how to explain her intentions.

  He glowered, his stare more heated. More constricting to her ability to think sane thoughts. She wriggled against him but he refused to budge an inch.

  And like before when she’d been pushed up against a wall, encircled by his muscular arms, his body tight to hers—this inexplicable connection she felt left her crazed. Hands-down, Brandon rubbing his cock over her ass was the best non-fucking sex she’d ever had. Not five minutes ago, she’d actually widened her stance so he could do her...in public. Sirens screeched in her head as her heartbeat still double-timed in her chest. I have lost it. Totally, totally lost it.

  If she didn’t get free from him, she’d do something stupid. Pushing as far away from him as possible, she locked down her trembling muscles and her runaway lust. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Things got carried away.”

  “What things? Specifically. You entering my club. Or us.”

  “This was supposed to be a tour. Nothing more.”

  “And you got one. Nothing we did was something
you opposed. Not everything is black and white, Mia. We’re into each other and so what. It’s not like I tried to fuck you in the produce section of Save Mart. Is that what this is about?” he demanded, refusing to let her shrink away from him.

  She shook her head. “It’s still out in the open.”

  “I said I’d give you a tour and look around, sweetheart. This is a sex club, not a goddamn bakery.”

  She glared right back. “I didn’t expect to get a sample!”

  “No? Strange, you sure seemed to like the menu offered up.” He held her, roughly pulling her against him. The points on her arm where his fingers touched her tingled.

  “Please,” she whispered. So much for being a professional!

  “Please what?” He stared down at her and in the red light she noticed his dilated pupils made his sapphire blue eyes almost flash violet in the hall lighting.

  Not helping! But Christ, if she could look away, or stop him when he tugged her closer, she might have a fighting chance to pull herself together.

  No such luck.

  “I just need...”

  “You’re asking for something and I bet you have no idea what it is. Being in a place like my club takes courage. Be honest with me and yourself. You’re not being truthful. And that’s the only problem we’ve got.”

  Every cell in her body ached to tell him he was right. Beg him to do more than talk to her. How could she help other women overcome their fears, if she was flying higher than a kite, threatening to crash and burn? And all she had to do was tell Brandon that he turned her on like no other! Except this wasn’t about her need for sexual gratification. Hello?

  This was her grad project.

  She’d let him get to her, so much so that her body hummed and her plans melted. Her knees wobbled and would have unhinged if he removed his hands from her. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath.

  “Brandon, it’s not that simple.” She struggled to gather her thoughts. Even now, well aware he was as dangerous as an addictive drug, she was ready to climb on top of him and finish what they’d started.

  “I’m not letting you go without an explanation,” he assured her, and she believed him. He had the power to command her. His words and body, his expressions, everything about him delivered her from rational thinking into the world of hot and wild and now.

  She was a goner if she didn’t reel in her out of control attraction to him.

  “Okay. I swear at first I thought you knew. It’s not like I could shout out my reasons for being here. And I tried to tell you...only you were so cocky. Not that your attitude and behavior are an excuse for mine.” Oh crap. She was rambling. “I wanted to tell you.”

  “Do you realize you’ve yet to answer my goddamn question? Can’t you just come right out and tell me how much of what Pen said is true?” He stared down at her with his inexorable expression that delved inside her core deep.

  A fair question, only she didn’t have the answer.

  Only a half-assed rationalization that she’d gotten lost in a way that felt liberating. If it weren’t for how he worked her over with his provocative skills she might be on track with her research, but blind to her own needs. In minutes Brandon proved he was more than a hard-bodied businessman. He said he could read her, and he was right.

  He’d blown apart her ideas, her goals. “I never expected to come here tonight and let you grind...” Grind your massive hard-on against my ass.

  “But I did. You liked it. Do you need a reminder?” He cupped her face and kissed her.

  Holy hell. Never had she met a man like McLemore.

  He was all fire and promised to fulfill her wildest fantasies.

  When their mouths parted, she rasped, “That’ll do.”

  Bowing her head against his shoulder, she felt more confused than before. Things she’d kept bottled up refused to remain locked away after kissing Brandon. She hadn’t felt this shaken since Beau had dropped the bomb that he’d proposed to another woman.

  God, she hadn’t seen him since spring. Almost a year ago, she’d listened to Beau lay down a line of bull a mile long. At first, she’d blamed herself for being blind in dating a two-timing jerk. She’d demanded to know if the other woman realized he’d basically screwed them both over. Beau had laughed in her face, relaying his fiancée was a woman he’d previously dated, and she knew the score. He’d justified himself by telling her, “Love’s got nothing to do with marrying. This is a lifetime contract and her family has connections in Houston. Besides, honeybunch, you just aren’t the marrying kind—not with the things you’re into. Hanging out with whores and addicts—you can’t escape what you were meant for.”

  She’d stormed at Beau, letting her temper get the best of her. He’d judged her based on her grad school internship at a women’s shelter. He also assured her that he’d be willing to screw her on the side—same as before—and made her a sickening offer: “I have business associates and they already said they’d like to meet you. These men are important business contacts, looking for a good time. They’re willing to cut me a deal.”

  In disbelief, she’d listened to him assure her the executives from the bank were into edgy stuff—some were his relatives! He’d informed her like it was a great opportunity. “These men pay top dollar for a woman like you. Nice hotels, dinner and a couple of hours of fun. We both win, sugar pie. What you’re into is hardly suitable for a respectable woman.”

  She’d slapped Beau’s face. And it was like something had snapped in him and he backhanded her. From bad, it got worse. He’d relayed obscene suggestions of what he intended to do to her. He’d only stopped when she’d picked up a knife and threatened to call the cops. His last words to her: “Typical move for a piece of ass.”

  That was the last time she’d seen him. She’d shied away from dating since that ugly disaster of a breakup, preferring to concentrate on her education. Something no man could take away. She’d submerged herself in grad school, and kept her bedroom persona locked away.

  Only now, she was both bewildered and aroused by Brandon, but also in need of graduating. Inside this hallway, and under the glowing red light with this man, she felt an affinity. Like he wouldn’t ever judge her in bed. Their irresistible seismic connection excited and scared her.

  How could she find another innovative project for this semester? One that would get her the recognition she needed to snag a top job in a large city. This project was her ticket out of Paris and away from small-minded people. If she ran out that door and left the premises, she’d never have a second chance.

  “What Mr. Penrose said was correct.” She turned up her face and met Brandon’s unwavering stare. “It’s true. I’m collecting information. That’s what I’m doing here.”

  He pushed off from her, releasing his hold on her hips, and narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me this is some sort of game?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, which under his scorching glare felt all too naked. “Not a game. Never.”

  “But you just said you’re only here to see how things are done and gather research. Did I miss something?”

  “Things didn’t go as I planned. I graduate in May. This is part of my master’s degree thesis. Kissing you was a big mistake. Huge. Awful.” His features tensed. Oh shit. She just made it seem like kissing him sucked. She closed her eyes. This was coming out wrong. “I didn’t mean that kissing you was bad—you’re making this difficult to explain.”

  “Maybe you’ll feel otherwise with one of the studs down the hall. Any one of them can show you a real good time.” His voice cut through her like a blade and she opened her eyes. He backed up, staring at her with an intense ferocity this time. “Seeing how you only have a matter of months, why settle for one flavor? Hell girl, you might want to try a ride on every man in the place.”

  He was being mean for some reason and she stepped forward, unable to keep from defending herself. “You don’t have a clue about me.”

  His eyes roved pointedly over her bo
dy. “Don’t I? Sugar, I know plenty of women just like you.”

  He better not imply she was some sort of tramp. “Don’t you dare pretend to know the tiniest thing about me. You don’t even know my whole name!”

  “Doesn’t really matter.” He laughed short and bitterly, towering over her. “I’m not the one kissing you to see how it feels, just so I can fill out a report.”

  “Excuse me, if I was mistaken about your intent.” She couldn’t extinguish the fire taking hold of her temper. “Silly me, I thought you were only interested in me for a night. What’d you mean when you said ‘an hour would do’?”

  “Don’t twist my words,” he growled.

  “I’m not. Seems like you’re the one trying to pretend as if what you had in mind was supposed to really mean something lasting.”

  “I guess from your vantage point you’ve got me and this place all figured out.” He closed the distance that separated them, crowding her body with his larger, virile one, and instinctively she moved back until she was flush with the wall.

  Caught between a rock-hard body and the wall, she realized her mistake and just as fast, she straightened, coming up onto her tiptoes. “Don’t waste your dom tactics on me. I’m not interested in what you’re serving up.”

  “Oh no?” He placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her between his sculpted arms. “Since you’re the one keeping score, correct me, but I didn’t hear you complaining. Not when you were watching the windows. Or when I put my hands on your body. Or even when you ground your pretty little ass against my cock. Not one goddamn word about stopping or not being turned on. We both know—” He bent his head and whispered against her ear, “that you were about to come in your panties. I bet if I put my finger inside that pussy of yours, it would be wet, warm, and ready to be fucked senseless. So don’t lie to me, little researcher.”