Dangerous Angel

Home > Other > Dangerous Angel > Page 7
Dangerous Angel Page 7

by Stacy Gail


  Except, of course, to always be in control. But that wasn’t a bad thing.

  She was almost sure of it.

  After a quick search through the pockets of a sequined jacket hanging inside, Nikita pulled out a torn piece of newspaper and took a picture of the address she found scribbled there with her smartphone. With only a heartbeat’s hesitation she shut the locker and headed out to find Kyle, kicking Blu-Annie’s condemnation to the curb. She was nothing like Bambi. From what Annie claimed, the missing stripper depended on others to attain security. If anything, Nikita was the exact opposite. She needed no one.

  Absolutely no one.

  Chapter Six

  “You found something out, didn’t you, Nikita? You’re never in this good a mood.”

  “What are you talking about? I was born chock-full of glitter and rainbows.” Nikita squinted against the sun and followed Kyle to where they’d left his dark cranberry-red muscle car, a ground-hugging tank that was as custom-made as her own SUV. While he didn’t have a steel grate separating the backseat from the front the way hers did, there was a heavy steel ring embedded into the backseat that hooked into the handcuffs his fugitives always wore. “But you’re right. As it happens, I did manage to find out your bail jumper is in all probability an iron-clad social climber, and she’s doing it the oldest way known to womankind.”

  “You don’t say.”

  She nodded. “Apparently her disappearance isn’t some ominous mystery to be solved. If you believe her roommate—and I have no reason to doubt her since she seems to have a thing about lying and liars—Bambi’s simply too busy entertaining a richer, younger sugar daddy to remember things like work and court dates.”

  “That’ll break Dibby’s heart.” Kyle unlocked the car with the press of a button, then leaned against the hood. “The poor guy’s convinced he’s the number-one star in Bambi’s sky.”

  “According to her roomie, Dibby was a distant second behind Floyd Hardy’s wayward son, Paul. Not only has little Paul got the bucks to bankroll the life Bambi wants to become accustomed to, but apparently he also likes it wild.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Nothing wrong with a little kink every now and again.” She settled next to him, the sun-warmth of the car hood seeping through the flouncy material of her dress. “I also found an address in Bambi’s locker. It might not be anything, or it might be everything.”

  “We won’t know until we check it out. Let’s have it.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What?” Maybe it was because he seemed so relaxed as he slouched against his car, but Nikita couldn’t stifle a little squeak when he suddenly moved so that he was face to face with her, propping his hands against the car’s hood on either side of her hips. He stood between her knees, their faces so close together the delicious threat of his breath feathered across her lips. With that sensual menace to her peace of mind hovering so near, her heart decided it was time to play out the Great Escape by knocking a hole through her chest. “Sorry, but I didn’t quite catch that. I could’ve sworn I just heard you say no. You didn’t tell me no, did you?”

  Her brain had to be sun-fried. Having her personal space invaded should have filled her with indignation, not feverish excitement. “What if I did?”

  “I thought we were working together on this one. Combining our resources, using teamwork. You know, like Sherlock and Watson, or Laverne and Shirley.”

  “I don’t want to be Laverne, and have you noticed how close you are?”

  “No one wants to be Laverne, she had bad posture and a funny accent. And nothing’s escaped my notice—especially that part about you telling me no.” He loomed closer still, until every breath was filled with the scent of him—like an exhilarating rush of fresh air after a wild storm. “Denying me like that for no good reason makes me want to spank you for being a bad girl. You don’t want me to spank you, do you, Nikita?”

  Oh my God, yes. “Depends. Over the panties or bare-butt?”

  “Bare-butt’s the only way to go.”

  “This is so true.” It was nice they agreed on something. “But since I don’t enjoy the idea of flashing my ass in the parking lot of The Toy Box, I suppose I should explain why I’m not in the mood to play nice.”

  “Go right ahead.” He pushed deeper between her knees. “I’m all ears, Sparkle.”

  Oh, no he wasn’t. The proof of that was pressing closer, his body heat radiating through the folds of her skirt to sear the hidden cleft between her legs. “You had all that time to chew things over with the Beirs twins, yet you haven’t shared a thing with me yet.”

  “There’s not much to share.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “Nothing spectacular comes to mind. Not with the twins, anyway.” He tilted his head and shifted his weight. The sandpaper-like rasp of his unshaven cheek brushed the smoothness of hers, and she feared he heard her breath flutter. “Dibby’s offering a reward for the return of his wee lost lamb. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “A reward?” Her eyes widened, but she wasn’t sure if it was his newsflash or the hard press of his aroused flesh against her inner thigh. “My, my.”

  “I know. Impressive, isn’t it?”

  Oh, wasn’t he the funny one. “Depends. How big are we talking about?”

  The corner of his mouth curled. “Big enough to make both of us happy.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m hard to please.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m up to the challenge.” And with that he closed the meager distance between them and captured her mouth.

  From the age of twelve when she’d stolen her first kiss with her seventh-grade crush, Nikita had loved the art of kissing. And it was an art. Some were sweet and wooing, filled with flowers and violins. Others were practiced and smooth, as open a seduction as a roaring fire and Barry White crooning in the background. But Kyle’s kiss was unlike anything she’d ever experienced—a free-fall into chaos. Madness. Danger. And so ravenous it swallowed her whole.

  She couldn’t get enough of it.

  Their nonstop cutthroat rivalry had always been laced with a sensual jousting that had never failed to set her panties on fire, but that’s all it had ever been. Teasing, feinting. Attack and retreat with no letup on the tension, until there were times when she’d wanted to scream in frustration. Maybe that was why her mind now reeled at the feel of Kyle’s mouth on hers. Of course she had imagined what it would be like, but in her heart of hearts she’d never thought it would happen. It was as though they had an unspoken agreement that if they took this one last step, everything would change. Seas would dry up. The sun would fall from the sky. The galaxy would stop spinning. Or, at the very least they would become the world’s most combustible lovers and set the air itself on fire.

  With this one final line crossed, Nikita sent a silent apology out into the universe and dived into the kiss.

  A cacophony rose within her, a chorus of at last, at last that was impossible to ignore. A chaos of desire and excitement mingled with that joy, as though she’d finally reached an achievement so secret that not even she’d known it was there. Never had she consciously articulated the life-goal of luring a wild hurricane like Kyle into her arms, but now that he was there she wanted to celebrate the occasion with everything she had.

  The moment his tongue glided over her lips, she knew she’d need a twelve-step program to recover from the taste of him. The firm press of his mouth coaxed hers to meld with his, and the stroke of his tongue seemed to shock her with an almost effervescent stimulation. Her nerve endings tingled with frenetic delight wherever he touched, a reaction to physical contact that she’d never known could exist. Nothing in her experience compared to the overwhelming madness unleashed on her senses, and without being conscious of it she slumped backward until the heat of the car’s hood
soaked into the material covering her back.

  He came along for the ride, his mouth never leaving hers. Her breasts cushioned the weight of his chest as he settled over her, her knees framing his hips in a position of blatant sexuality made that much more real by the insistent thrust of his arousal against the juncture of her thighs. The heat radiating from him made the flesh there throb with need, despite the layers of clothing separating them. Something sweet and dangerous unfurled in her chest when his tongue devoted itself to worshipping hers, as if the single most important role in his life came down to pleasing her. His fingers threaded through her hair to mold against the curve of her skull. For a second she could have sworn there was a cherishing reverence communicated in how his palm cradled her head, angling her so their mouths fit together with blissful perfection. A rough sound resonated deep in his throat, conveying a delight that mirrored hers when she surged closer. Yet no matter how she pressed against him, there was no way she could get close enough, not unless she fused their two bodies into one.

  And that could happen.

  The hardness against the increasingly hot slickness of her cleft thrilled her beyond all reason. To have him buried deep inside her up to his hilt, to strive for that oneness she craved...

  She could do it. All she had to do was let him in. Into her body. Into her life. Into her...

  Heart.

  No.

  Without warning, his fingers tightened on her hair. “Nikita.” His breath was gratifyingly rough as he rested his brow against hers, his mouth a sensual threat hovering a fraction above hers. “You’re going away from me. Don’t do that.”

  With everything in her Nikita yearned to lift up to his mouth and show him she wasn’t going anywhere. But nothing she wanted that much could be good for her. “I don’t like being told what to do. You should know that better than anyone.”

  “That’s right. You’re the one who likes to be in control. Not even a single, fleeting emotion is allowed to escape that iron grip of yours, is it?”

  A shaft of cold sliced through the heat blanketing her brain. “We’re business rivals, not besties, cabrón. It bothers me that you think you know what’s going on inside me.”

  “I’m sure it bothers you.” When she shifted to dislodge his hand from her hair, she was shocked when he refused to take the hint and instead tightened his hold. “It bothers you because it’s true. For a while you forgot to be Little Miss Control Freak. You know why you forgot?”

  She didn’t want to hear it. “Let me up.”

  “Because I didn’t give you enough time to remember to put up your defenses. Taking you by surprise shows me the Nikita behind all the bluff and bluster.” With those heavy-lidded eyes watching her, he rotated his hips against hers. She couldn’t stop herself from gasping when his hardened sex rubbed against the swollen, needy flesh aching to be filled by him. “Now that I know the secret to handling you, things are going to be very different between us.”

  “You think you can handle me?” She had to get her crap together before she did something stupid. Like moan out loud and beg him to take her right there on the hood of his damn car. “Better than you have tried.”

  “Oh, Sparkle. That is so doubtful.” His slow smile made her wonder why she wasn’t throttling him. “And before you can get pissed off, this is really your fault.”

  “What? My fault?”

  “Yeah.” As he spoke, he let go of her hair at last to trace a fingertip over the crest of her upper lip, and she mentally smacked herself for wanting to take him into her mouth. “I’ve never had a kiss quite that wild. I’m a big fan of wild, and it seems I’ve inherited my father’s addictive personality. All I want now is more, and I can’t stop until I get it.”

  “Too bad.” Because his words mirrored her thoughts way too closely for comfort, she hooked her knee over his long legs and twisted. Caught off-guard, he went with the momentum and almost fell off the hood. By the time he’d righted himself she was on her feet and fastidiously going over her clothes. If she wasn’t feeling so naked, she would have laughed at the sudden surge of prudery. The man had one hell of a knack for making her feel as vulnerable as a streaker at a prison riot.

  “Damn, Nikita.” Kyle shot her an irritated glance while taking pains to adjust the front of his jeans. “Careful with the equipment.”

  “You’re the one who should be careful to make sure that doesn’t happen again.” To her horror, her voice trembled. Good God. Way to sound like an outraged virgin. “Don’t get me wrong. After years of wondering, it’s nice to know you’re not a half-bad kisser.”

  “Nikita.” The irritation in those bedroom eyes melted away to be replaced by a spark of something wickedly delicious. “You have no idea how much I fucking love the idea that you’ve been wondering about my kisses.”

  “Sadly, I’ve had better.”

  That spark vanished. “No way.”

  “I’m sure the truth hurts.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. But if being a liar gained her the distance needed to tame the turmoil of her usually locked-down emotions, she was willing to take the plunge. “After taking those lips for a test drive, I can only conclude I prefer you as a business rival than my next boy-toy.”

  “I’m no one’s toy.” The lazy humor that made up Kyle’s personality went into eclipse as he lifted his chin, and there was a controlled volatility in the movement that made her heart pound. The weather seemed to reflect the sudden shift in the atmosphere. A sudden gust of wind blew her skirt around her knees while clouds blotted out the sun, and thunder rolled in the distance. “I don’t get played with, and I’m sure as hell not playing now. So try and wrap your mind around this new reality—the time for games between us is over.”

  * * *

  Damn that Nikita. After all that, and she still hadn’t given him the address she’d found.

  Restless and at loose ends, Kyle wasn’t surprised to find himself parking at Yolanda’s Cocina Cubano and heading straight for the ordering window. When in doubt, he needed a little comforting TLC as he chewed on some spicy goodness.

  Though at the moment, the only spicy goodness he wanted to sink his teeth into was Nikita.

  At first he’d tried convincing himself it was his battered ego that made him believe she’d lied about being unmoved by their kiss. But there was no way a woman made love with her mouth like that if she wasn’t delighting in every passionate second of it. Even now the sensual perfection of their kiss haunted him, a sensation he savored even as he cursed it for the addictive craving it spawned. He couldn’t help but be addicted, not when her lips had clung to his as if her heart would come to a dead stop if she lost contact with him. The sounds she’d made had enslaved him, until he’d been in a frenzy to tease more of those purrs of approval from her.

  No. It was more than just approval. Nikita had been as drunk on him as he’d been on her. And he’d bet his houseboat she was still floating with the buzz.

  Just like he was.

  “Kyle! Let me guess—you missed lunch and you’re going to die of starvation if I don’t feed you, eh?” With a bright smile of welcome, Yolanda leaned through the wide order window, grabbed his face and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “You know I’ll take good care of you.”

  “I’m glad someone in your family likes me.” The moment the self-pitying words were out, he wished he had the power to suck them back in. But while noodling around with the weather might be child’s play, the power of word-sucking was beyond him. “Don’t mind me, Yolanda, I’m just grumpy. I’ll take two of whatever specials you have left, to go, if that’s okay.”

  “Right. Two fish tacos supremas, to stay.”

  Oy. “Yolanda...”

  “You go sit out back. You gonna get tea with this. You want dessert? I think you need dessert. Don’t talk. Go.”

  Kyle went. TLC was what he’d wanted,
and that was what he was going to get, Yolanda-style. Now that he had time to think about it, he probably would have been better off going hungry.

  “You got a face full of worries,” Yolanda announced minutes later, placing take-away clamshell boxes full of spicy cuisine on the table, along with two cups of tea thick with cane syrup and ice. “You know you want to talk about it, so you go ahead and talk while you eat. I won’t get after you for talking with a full mouth.”

  “You’re such a good mother.” Usually the concept of combining fish and tacos would be downright sacrilegious to Kyle, but Yolanda’s magic in the kitchen had long ago made him a believer. “I hope Nikita appreciates you.”

  “Who do you think paid for this after Hurricane Charlie came and flattened my last place?” Yolanda waved her hand back at the Cocina, surprising him. “All the hard knocks life threw her early on ensured that my niece would never be the cuddly type of kid, true. But when she showers me in gifts like the restaurant, or the van she got for the catering service we started last year, or taking care of my bills when asthma landed me in the hospital for a month, I know it’s her way of showing she cares.”

  Kyle thought of the many reckless stunts Nikita had pulled in the past, with The Toy Box being her latest and greatest to date. Suddenly her focus on collecting big bounties made a lot more sense. “I always wondered how she wound up being raised by you, her tía. I asked her once, and she told me she’d been orphaned and called me a cabrón for asking what I already knew.”

  Yolanda’s narrow face lit with a wry smile. “Sounds like my Nikita. But the truth is, she was never a true orphan.”

  “A true orphan?”

  “As far as I know, her father—my brother—is still alive. Soon after Nikita arrived in Florida, he abandoned her.”

 

‹ Prev