Goddammit! He hadn't come here tonight to satisfy his lust. He came to talk business.
She had relatively long hair, deep brown, either pulled back or braided. He couldn't quite see from her angle. Tendrils hung against her face and some of it even stuck to her temples where she'd perspired a bit. The black mini dress she wore clung to her like a stocking and the wide belt cinched in her small waist. Her legs appeared incredibly long as she balanced her weight on what looked like four-inch heels. He couldn't see her eyes because thick black lashes hid them completely, and she had yet to look up at any of them.
"Miss, we don't do fruity drinks over here," Brock burst out.
To Dane's surprise, the woman looked up with striking hazel eyes and gave his brother a death stare. Fuck, she was beautiful…even when she seemed to take offense to Brock's outburst.
"Cut it out," Dane said under his breath, hoping his bold, can't-hold-his-tongue brother didn't cause a scene he'd regret later on.
"I take orders too." She smiled sweetly. "Would you like another round of what you have?"
"Scotch," Brock said. "Straight."
The woman licked her lips and her gaze flickered on Dane for only a second. "And you?"
"Your name?"
"Excuse me?" She looked up with a blank stare.
"Give me your name," he said, slowly this time.
Her nose wrinkled as though she'd misunderstood his request. There was something quite not right about her. Sure, she looked the part, but she damn sure didn't act the part of a call girl…and her next statement proved this.
"No," she said, flatly. "But can I get you a drink?"
Dane's head reeled back in shock and he ignored Brock's chuckle beside him. He swallowed. Although he hated accepting no for an answer, he decided that it was most appropriate in this case. "I'll take the cocktail on the right."
He watched carefully as she slid the drink across the table to him. Her nails were cut short and painted a barely-there pink color. Her hands and wrists were small and dainty. Her full, lush breasts pushed against her top as she leaned in.
He slipped a Benjamin between her fingers. "Thank you." The pads of his digits glided along the inside of her wrist as he pulled back. Her skin was soft and he longed to hold her hand for a moment longer.
A heated blush reddened her face and neck. She averted her gaze once again. "I'll be back with the scotch."
"Leo seems to be hiring more and more human women these days," Brock said, as the waitress walked away. "I wonder why that is."
"Variety brings in more business," Dane said looking after her delicious body. Her hips swayed naturally as she walked away. "We shifters like to stick together. We see the same faces day in and day out. While keeping to ourselves works in the Aspen Valley community to a certain degree, the same reasoning doesn't work for Leo's business."
"I know…it's all about the money." Brock leaned back in his chair, letting the call girl perform her magic on his shoulders. "It all spends the same whether it comes from us shifters or those humans."
"You got that right." Something other than human money piqued Dane's interest at this moment and he shrugged his shoulders to stop the relaxing massage and stood. "Excuse me for a moment."
It didn't take Dane Magnus long to catch the scent of the waitress who held his immediate attention. Surprisingly she was not at the bar collecting the drink order she'd taken from Brock, but she'd retreated down a narrow hallway toward the back rooms. Her back was facing both the crowd and Dane, but she looked just as beautiful from behind as she was from up front.
The left side her body was pressed up against the wall and she had dropped her face in her palms. Her neck was slender and long and dark brown curls escaped the french braid at the back of her head. Some of the tendrils stuck to the damp skin on her nape. He had a nice view of her plump ass filling out the short skirt she wore. She was taller than the average chick, with sexy ass legs that went on for nights. Her thighs were just the right size, thick enough for his large hands to grip.
Dane bit his bottom lip and willed his hungry wolf to settle down. This woman wasn't your ordinary chick. He could easily tell that the moment she entered his personal space in the VIP section. And from the way she flat out refused to give her name told him that she was stubborn and possibly played hard to get.
Well…a challenge he didn't mind. Not at all. He grinned and advanced further down the hall toward her.
Chapter 5
Trina detected a presence lurking behind her. She could tell it was a male as his scent was strong and husky. The amount of perverted creeps flooding this place was astounding, and she'd already had to run a few of them off already. Apparently, some of the men were getting her mixed up with the prostitutes working in this place. She was desperate for cash, but not so desperate that she would sell her body. There was no way she could fake it long enough to make the amount of money she needed in such a short time. She'd already made here in tips what she would have made working one full ten-hour day at the dry cleaners. How tempting and lucrative this could become, but it certainly wasn't her style. However, she'd always said the same thing to her father about running the dry cleaning business. Acting the part of a loose harlot was convenient while the cash rolled in, but when the men became extra friendly, what would she do then?
As the body behind her drew nearer, Trina took no chances. She swung around, determined to strike the male stranger.
To her surprise, the male caught her by the upper arm and pushed her into the concrete wall. Trina's first thought was that she'd finally encountered a creep who would force himself on her. The male was so tall that all she could see was the front of his shirt. She twisted and struggled against him anyway, finally deciding that she'd made the worst decision. After this, she wouldn't be extending her training period any longer. It was time to find some other part-time job.
"Calm your nerves, kitten." His familiar voice sent a slow creep of warmth up her spine. "I want to chat."
Her body tensed and her back stiffened against the wall. "Then let me go."
The man loosened his grip on her arm. She finally exhaled and then inhaled taking in long drags of his intoxicating scent.
"What are you doing here, kitten? In a club full of wolves," he whispered in her ear.
His voice. His scent. His touch worked to drug her. He had to have been a shifter. A wolf. He smelled like a man, but the underlying animalistic musky aura seemed too carnal to her.
Trina trembled involuntarily and to her embarrassment, warm juices coated her panties. She pushed against his chest, fighting between the urge of getting a view of his face or running off never to step foot in this nightclub again.
"Working," she snapped. "Now get off me so I can get back to it."
"Working?" He chuckled deeply. "You don't look like a whore to me."
Her neck grew hot in anger and degradation. "Look, creep..." She shoved hard at his chest. "If you don't le—"
She swallowed her words as her gaze locked with him. They now stood two feet apart from each other and Trina's lips parted in surprise when she identified the stranger as the attractive man who'd asked for her name instead of a drink.
"You?" she mumbled.
He grinned and dragged his gaze up and down her body. "If I leave you alone, kitten, I won't be able to finish what I started."
Her mouth went dry as she took him in. He had a rugged nature about him. Black hair fell over into his face and eyes and his solid gray eyes riveted her.
"What you started?" she asked.
What the heck was wrong with her? Men didn't have this reaction to her. Not anymore. Not since she'd become a recluse working day in and day out at the dry cleaners. The mix of smells and the claustrophobic feel in the nightclub must be getting to her. Being without a man for so long had taught Trina that her vibrator did a much better job of satisfying her anyway.
The stranger stepped forward again, but this time she let him close the gap. "I'm a shifter. I
think you know that. And I smell your arousal."
Her breath hitched in her throat. "Liar."
"Are you aroused by my presence?"
"No."
His big hands slid against her hips and he grabbed her waist, pulling her against his chest. "Liar."
"I'm not giving you my name and I'm not a whore," she said firmly. "I understand it if you were mistaken, but I'll give you your money back."
"I don't want my money back." He traced the outline of her ear with the soft tip of his nose and inhaled. "Your fucking scent is driving me crazy."
Her pussy clenched and her erect nipples scraped against the silken fabric of her bra. This couldn't be happening. There was no way she was getting aroused by a stranger in a nightclub who thought she was a whore.
"I was just leaving," she said. "So you won't have that problem anymore."
"What's your name?" he demanded again.
"Kitten."
He laughed softly and her body reacting by warming to the calming tone. "You're not a very good liar, but you are a very good tease."
"I've got to get back to work." She said it, yet her body became lax against his and she made no moves to go.
"Work would be so much easier if you only had one to serve, don't you think?"
"You're mistaken…"
His hand slipped under her top, gripping the bare skin on her waist possessively. He held one hand on the wall next to her head and leaned in against her so that they were eye to eye. "I have a question for you." His tongue parted through the seam of his lips. "I want the truth and then I'll let you be."
"I'm not giving you my name."
"I haven't asked the question yet."
"Go on then. Ask it. And then just let me be."
"How wet is that sweet pussy right now, kitten?"
Trina reacted on instinct, shoved him, and brought her open palm down across the side of his face. "Bastard!"
His reaction to being slapped stunned her. One corner of his lip turned upward into a smirk as he brought his hand to his face. "Nice to meet you too, kitten."
In a state of arousal that was perfectly obvious to this attractive stranger, Trina turned and made a beeline for the exit.
But she never made it out…
Rough arms gripped her and a cold hard object was shoved into her back. When she turned to see who caught her this time, a measly looking man snarled at her.
"Do something stupid, bitch, and lose your life."
He aimed his gun at the crowd and fired three shots. The crowd went berserk. Bodies began flying toward all the exits. Glass broke as people attempted to escape. Tables and chairs toppled over, crashing to the floor.
This man's threat was serious and there was no playful edge in his tone.
Trina's heart raced with a driving cadence. As the gunman gripped her tighter, her veins twisted, pulling themselves into knots. Although she wanted to scream, her throat was dry. One minute she was headed to the bar to fill up her tray and the next minute she was praying silently for her life. She should have never come out all this way.
The gunman fired two more shots into the fleeing crowd. Her heart jumped each time a shot was fired.
On the last shot, a man dropped to the ground and his body stopped moving.
Her breath tripped up in her throat and on instinct she jerked, trying to loosen his hold, but the gunman jerked back, preventing her from going anywhere.
The gun had been so close to her ear when he expelled the bullets that she could barely hear the panicked screams as the crowd trampled over each other to get to the exit. Instead, she heard a consistent ringing that sounded like the whistle of a water kettle. It rang for longer than she could stand until it felt like her eardrums would burst.
The gunman nudged the barrel of the gun in the center of her back, and her body became rigid.
"Walk backward now," he ordered. His breath was putrid. Foul. It smelled as though he had drowned himself in liquor.
"Please…" Her voice quaked as she spoke. "Don't shoot me. I have a parent waiting at home…I take care of him."
"Shut up!" His answer was solid and uncaring. "Say another word or attempt to escape and I'll kill you."
Trina bit her bottom lip, holding her next protest. It was either be a sassy-mouthed woman and potentially lead this fool to shoot her or keep her cool and avoid being his next victim.
The gunman shuffled backward toward what appeared to be the only exit in sight. In the process, about a dozen people got stuck inside at the mercy of this crazed individual. Those who did remain shuffled back behind the bar as the gunman waved his gun to taunt them.
"Leo…let me speak to Leo," the gunman ordered.
Leo was the guy she'd spoken to about the position.
A guy rose from behind the bar slowly. "Leo's gone. He ran an errand. What the hell do you want with him?"
The shooter lifted the gun and fired the weapon. The guy ducked back, crashing into a display of top shelf liquor. There were more screams as the bottles shattered and the liquor poured out onto people's heads.
"Don't tell me he's gone! Get him now. I want my money."
"Hold on a minute." This voice came from darkened corner of the room. A man emerged from the shadows behind a curtain, holding up his palms.
Trina instantly recognized the stranger with the smoky gray eyes. A tiny spring of hope rushed through her, but her body was still cold with panic.
The gunman swung them around to face the man. Although Trina was relieved that the gun was no longer on her back, she felt concern for the man who now stood in the line of a bullet.
"Get me Leo and tell him to bring my money."
"Alright." The stranger nodded. "I'm a friend of Leo's. What's the problem?"
The gunman's finger shook on the trigger. "Fifty thousand he promised me for work I did here. I ain't seen a damn dime of it."
The stranger edged closer. "Okay. Alright. Fifty thousand."
"Stay back, wolf!" The gunman's gripped tightened on her forearm. "You are all a bunch of lying dogs. Stay back!"
The stranger's eyes darkened and thinned into slits. "Let the woman go. She has nothing to do with this."
"Show me my money and I'll let her go."
"We can fix this, but only if you release her and put down your weapon. The woman for the money."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" the gunman raged. "I want my money for the work I did." He thrust the gun into her spine. "Make another move toward me, animal, and I shoot."
The gunman's breath was hot and horrid on her ear as he breathed heavily. The assaulting fumes made her eyes water.
"This woman did nothing to you," the stranger continued. "Do you think Leo would care if you shot a bystander with no connections to him whatsoever?"
Trina felt the gunman's hands go slack on her arm.
"What are you saying, wolf?"
"Let's make a trade-off. You take Leo's nephew—myself—as hostage, then you get Leo's attention. Isn't that what you want? Leo's attention?"
"Prove it? Get him in here! Get him on the phone!"
"Alright…" The stranger slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He punched several buttons and held the phone to his ear. "Leo…we've got a situation here…a hostage situation." There was a long pause. "Club is being held up and Mr. Gunman here is asking for his money." He lifted his eyes and carefully held the phone out toward the gunman.
"Who are you?" Apparently, the phone was switched to speaker mode.
"You know who I am. We had a deal. I brought you all this new furniture for this run-down club and my money never came."
"I don't owe debts. I owe no one."
The gunman tightened his grip and she flinched and jerked her arm to no avail.
"I got your club held up. I will burn this bitch down if you don't deliver my cash now."
"How much are you talking?" Leo asked.
"Sixty grand."
A moment ago, the gunman had said fifty
thousand, now he'd just raised the amount. It was further evidence that the dude was either lying or a crazy drunken crook.
"Bullshit!"
The gunman aimed the gun at the ceiling and shot at one of the disco balls. It shattered to pieces, causing another outbreak of screams from behind the bar. The dark stranger ducked out of the way just in time to dodge a piece of thick glass hitting him over the head.
"What the hell was that?" Leo's voice sounded scratchy on the other end as the stranger regained his composure.
"He's fucking your club up. Do you owe this idiot any money?" the stranger barked into the phone.
"Hell no! Fuck, I don't know! That fucking no-name creep is lying."
"No name?" The gunman drove her forward to get closer to the phone. "Call me Renovation Man. You better have my money here in fifteen minutes or I will burn this whole place down. And when you collect the insurance money, you will pay me for my work."
"I've told you before and I'll tell you again," Leo stated, gruffly over the phone. "I owe nothing. We settled this a month ago."
"Look, man…"
Spittle flew from the gunman's mouth and some of it landed on the side of Trina's face. She cringed and gritted her teeth. Bile rose in her throat as the remnants of lunch began to creep upward.
The gunman raised the barrel of the gun, extending it outward until it was pointed at the dark stranger. "I will shoot your nephew if you don't comply."
"Listen, you idiot. I will track you down. I will hunt—"
Like a flash of lightning before her eyes, a thick rope whipped out in front of her face. The gun slipped from the gunman's hand as the rope tightened instantly around his wrist like a lasso. It misfired and a bullet ricocheted off the wall and splintered through a table.
The gunman fell backward but not before he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her down with him. She landed with a thud against his burly chest. Before she could catch her breath, he wrapped his arm around her throat and squeezed tightly. She elbowed him in the gut, but he grunted and only pushed tighter against her larynx. Her blood rushed hot to her face as all oxygen escaped her.
The dark stranger stumbled toward her. Where his lips had been stretched taut only moments early, his canines were extended. His face and entire body distorted and shifted as he advanced toward them.
Aspen Valley Wolf Pack (The Complete Series) Page 3
