A pair of male hands suddenly hugged her hips, startling her. Big hot male hands. She hadn’t realized he was that close.
“No, they certainly don’t,” the man behind her agreed, his voice low.
The hands traveled from her hips to her front, lightly caressing her stomach. Her insides clenched and she whirled around, stumbling into a rock-hard chest.
“Ooooph!”
She steadied herself with her hands, gripping the shirt in front of her. The chest, covered by the black tee, had an impressive span, and since it was at eye-level, she had a pretty good idea how much the gentleman was towering over her. Meanwhile, those big male hands were holding on to her bare hips again, steadying her.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up, taking in the tan skin of his throat. And up.
Dark eyes met hers. His gaze was intense, heated, the kind of look a man gave a woman when he was thinking of intimate things.
Mari blinked. Was this the biker they kept calling Angel? Oh my. How wrong she had been.
The man holding her looked nothing like the way she’d pictured. Of course, she’d been projecting her nightmare into the situation, but still, could one not assume the worst about a biker with that name? Certainly not someone who looked like an angel!
She couldn’t help but stare up, speechless. Dark eyes. Straight nose. Sensual lips. Square-jaw. His dark hair framed his face, falling loosely around his shoulders. He was an absolutely beautiful man. The only thing missing was a halo and wings. No wonder the women sounded so excited.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Thumbs-up, Angel?” The older biker asked, waving his clipboard. He winked at Mari. “You sure caught his attention with that number.”
Mari felt a flush heating her face. She tried to take a step back but the hands holding on to her tightened slightly.
“What’s your name, Hips?” Her captor asked, his voice a low, sexy rumble.
She looked at him again. He was smiling wickedly down at her. She licked her lips.
“Mimi,” she replied. “Am I in the Salad Toss?”
“If you want.”
“I’d say she’s in,” Deke said, jotting onto his clipboard. “Next! You have five more to pick, Angel.”
“Hey, me, me!”
“I can shake all over you too!”
Mari felt herself being pulled and pushed away as the other women clamored around the tall man. His hold loosened and she was free.
“You had your turn, now take a hike,” one of the girls told her, elbowing her out of the way. “Angel, honey, over here!”
Relieved and strangely regretful, Mari turned away. Stop checking out the good-looking guy, already, girl. You have things to do! She’d accomplished her first goal. She got in and would be free to wander around after the competition. She tried to think about that last part for now.
Now she had to hide her jeans somewhere so no one rummaging around would find her small tool kit and gun.
*
Ignoring the female hands all over him, Angel looked at the retreating figure of Mimi as she sauntered off, plastic bag full of her clothes in one hand. His gaze slithered back to what had caused him to lose his concentration. Damn, that was a fine-looking ass. He felt himself breaking out in a sweat again at the memory of Mimi doing the booty jiggle, the piece of stringy material threatening to fall off with all that shimmying. All he’d wanted to do was pull it off, drag that fine ass against his eager erection, and do a little shimmying against it. Hell, he was so blinded by lust, the need to explore all that round, smooth female flesh so strong, the desire to take what was being offered, he’d practically stalked over to her without thinking. He grimaced, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. Obviously, his dick had already chosen. Ding-ding-ding. We got a winner.
This wasn’t the time. He was on duty.
Granted, it wasn’t the same as when he was with his SEAL brothers, working an operation, covering each other’s backs as they dropped in on some enemy’s nest for a surprise visit. He glanced around at the women making so much damn noise around him. This was nothing like that—he pulled away a female hand trying to slip into his jeans—at all. God, he missed the real action out there with his team.
Curtly, he growled out some kind of approval to Deke, randomly picking this or that woman. Who cared who got into the party? The owner sure the hell didn’t or he would have agreed to implement all the stuff his security company had recommended. He realized, a bit too late, that this was just a glorified security guard gig.
“Hey, something to start the money rolling, bro,” Hex had told him during their group discussion over whether to take the job. “We need the dough to pay bills and ourselves.”
“We’re bound to get better action once we get the word around,” Lyons had agreed. “Besides, there’s supposed to be a threat to the guy’s life, right?”
Angel snorted. The threat was certainly not scaring their employer enough. All these people were his friends. Just keep an eye on the strangers. Not so damn easy on these acres, filled with party-goers and hired-hands, and not enough cameras to check every nook and cranny.
He had voiced his concerns and given his warning. His new team had agreed, but other than putting that down in the contract so Cutter Washington understood all the risks, what more could they do? Everything was signed off. The most important thing was knowing the money was going straight to his sister’s family. That was his top priority, although….
He watched as the object of his interest stopped to talk to another woman. What was her name again? Mimi. Maybe he could talk to her later and get to know her better. It was obvious she was here to party. No woman would enter this type of contest just to get into a party, so she had to be looking for a man. His mood lightened considerably. Maybe Mimi wouldn’t mind having a good time with him later.
As if aware of his regard, she turned, a perfect oval face framed by auburn hair. The woman besides her leaned over to whisper something in her ear.
Mimi’s eyes met his. He cocked his head questioningly. Was she interested?
Her slow smile heated up his blood. She struck a pose, jutting out that tantalizing hip for his perusal.
Oh yeah, Mimi just gave him an answer. If things worked out, he was planning on a long and sensuous workout later, especially some hip action of his own. He was going to ride that sexy, sweet ass all night long. Giving her a wink, he turned and followed Deke out of the room.
*
“Hey, hi! I’m Carey Ann. I see you got into the competition. Me too.”
The stranger’s smile was friendly. Mari returned the smile. “Hi, I’m Mimi. Yeah.”
“We need to tag team.”
“What?”
“You know, be partners. You can’t win this alone.”
Oh. Mari hadn’t even thought about winning the stupid thing. Her mind had been first and foremost on trying to get in. But she couldn’t tell the other woman that.
“What does a tag team do?” She asked instead.
Carey Ann leaned over and spoke softly in her ear, “Well, for one thing, that hot hunk of a man who chose us is watching you like a hungry wolf. He’s going to be the judge too, you know. Strike a pose, honey. He can get us inside the house, where the real partying is at. Go on, strike a pose. Don’t lose this opportunity to get even more of his attention.”
Inside the house was where she wanted to be. She hadn’t realized there were different parties going on. Quickly, not letting herself debate too much, she turned around. She didn’t need to be told where the “hot hunk” was standing. Her personal radar had been feeling the weight of his gaze as she’d tried to make her way out of his range. He was still looking at her, eyes narrowed, almost predatory. Then, he cocked his head. The corner of his mouth lifted in a quirk as his eyes traveled down her body.
Mari felt her whole being tingle in reaction. She could feel his silent challenge. Her back straightened. She wasn’t going to lose to those two tall Amazons draped all over
him like soggy bath towels. She knew how to get his full attention too.
Putting one hand on her waist, she extended a leg and jutted her hip out. Her loose hair fell across her face and she peered up at him, hoping she looked mysterious and sexy.
If a man’s gaze could sear the clothes off a body, his would.
She felt on fire. She wasn’t sure whether she liked how much this stranger was turning her on. He probably thought he was God’s gift to women, the bastard. Maybe that’s why he was nicknamed Angel.
Lifting her chin slightly, she smiled her best vamp smile. Okay, big guy, remember this when you judge the wrestling match. She almost laughed out in glee when he absent-mindedly batted away one of the Amazon’s roving hands. He winked at her as he walked out of the room.
“I think you got him thinking, sweetie,” her new friend said, approvingly. “But watch out for those tall blondes. They’re giving us the evil eye.”
They sure were. One of them gave Mari the finger. The other made a slashing stroke across her throat with one red-tipped finger.
Mari felt ridiculous, even as she rudely turned her back on them. She didn’t want to fight with any woman over a stupid wrestling match in a bowl of salad. This was so surreal. All she wanted—
“Now,” Carey Ann interrupted her thoughts, “we need to devise a plan to keep getting that man’s attention. I’ll make sure those bitches don’t get too close so you get a chance to jump on his lap and pull the codpiece off his dick.”
“What?” Wait. His what? Did she say codpiece?
“You know, the leather cover they put on the crotch. That’s the winning ticket, remember?”
Mari hadn’t read anything about pulling off any…codpiece. She’d just signed up on the piece of paper handed to her and had rushed to join the group of girls trying to push their way in. She felt like pulling her hair and stomping off. This whole experience was similar to that time when she was on a boat and bad weather rolled in. Every time the boat rocked, her stomach had churned and she’d felt like throwing up.
She felt like she was being tossed left and right by waves right now. Everything hadn’t gone quite as she’d planned. What, did she think it would be a champagne and sandwich party with people standing around talking about golf? It was a bikers’ party, so everything was geared for male entertainment. It was going to be a rowdy, politically incorrect affair. And she was going to be smack dab in the middle of it.
“I…don’t think…” she began, trying to figure out how to get out of this one.
“With his eyes on you, we have a good chance, girlfriend. I know some of those guys cheat, you know. I’ve watched them in years past, helping out the girl their bud wants to win. We need a good strategy, you and I, so you can be the one to grab that codpiece. They upped the prize this year, you know. Eight hundred smackeroos!
Mari blinked. “Eight hundred,” she repeated. She didn’t need the money, but could see how that would really get all the participants to really fight it out. She was in so much trouble.
Carey Ann nodded and frowned. “You look like you don’t know about the eight hundred.”
“I…I didn’t know it was that much,” Mari lied. “I knew there was a prize but…umm…I…just wanted to get in and party, you know?”
Carey Ann grinned. “Well, we’re in and yeah, there’s going to be a big party, but eight hundred dollars—okay four, shared between the two of us—would help me out with bills this month. And,” she paused and looked around, “I want to get into the main party inside this year. Outside is fun, but this year, I want to find a new boyfriend. One with better prospects. That Angel is our ticket, honey. So, what do you say, tag team? We win, we share the prize and get to go inside to play with the big boys. Hell, that Angel is all man. I’d love to get to know him better myself.”
Mari studied the woman next to her. She was about the same height as her—five foot three, at most—with hair dyed a dark, strawberry-red, streaked with blond tips. The woman continued grinning at her, flexing her muscles.
“These muscles are homegrown, baby,” Carey Ann continued. “We’ll take down those fake Amazon boobies, no problem.”
Mari choked. “Are you seriously looking for man at the party?”
Carey Ann nodded. “Sure. You don’t get to see so many eligible men in one small mile, ready for the picking, you know. Not around these parts.”
“It seems to me, they’re doing the picking,” Mari pointed out, gesturing at their skimpy outfits.
Her new friend shrugged. Her grin turned a little wicked. “Let them think they’re in control. Those of us with brains know better. Those who don’t—” she nodded back towards where the Amazons were “—are passing through. I’m looking for something more than a good time. Are we a team or not?”
Yeah, I’m looking for something too, but not a man. “Okay, let’s figure out a game plan and get into the big house,” Mari said. “But we have one problem.”
“What?”
Mari grimaced. “I don’t know how to untie a codpiece. I mean, do I just pull it off the guy’s crotch?”
Carey Ann laughed out loud. “Mimi, honey, the man is standing inside a bowl of salad, waiting for you. Here’s what’s going to happen. You dive in. Others are doing the same thing. There’ll be a lot of tugging and head-smashing and hair-pulling. You swim your way through all that leafy gunk. Again, instead of heading to the prize myself, I’ll be trying to get the others off you, but it’s not going to be a piece of cake. You’re fighting too, arms and legs. What don’t they allow?”
“No biting, I think that’s what the biker with the big moustache told us,” Mari said. Her eyes widened. “No!”
Carey Ann nodded. “Yup. Only free part of you. Just don’t bite the man’s dick off too.” She laughed heartily again. “Oh my, the look on your face. It isn’t that bad!”
“Says you. You’re not the one gnawing a codpiece off a man,” Mari pointed out, horrified at what she’d signed on to do.
The belly laugh came again. “I think I like you,” Carey Ann said.
Mari had to smile back. “Let me find a place for my things and I’ll meet you back here in five or ten minutes.”
“Okay, hurry up! We don’t want to lose each other in the crowd.”
Mari nodded. She didn’t want to lose the bag either. She must find a spot she could easily access afterwards. She let out a small sigh. Codpiece chewer. Salad wrassling. Her father had a lot to answer to when she talk to him later.
*
“Come on, Ange, you’re acting like this is a BUD/S boot camp and not every male’s fantasy.” Angel’s colleague, Dusty, grinned as he looked on.
“Not this man’s fantasy,” Angel muttered. He looked down at the leather codpiece covering him. BUD/S boot camp this certainly wasn’t. His old team mates had better not ever see him wearing this. “I can’t believe I need to wear this. Why can’t I just stand there and the first girl who reaches me wins?”
“Because it would make every guy’s day to see all the girls fighting to go under to grab your junk? Come on, it’s all fun. The winner gets a prize and all the guys’ bets go to charity.”
“So why don’t you be the junk man?” Angel demanded.
“I’m married!”
“You, then, Magic. You do it.” Among them, Magic was the most popular one with the ladies.
His friend shook his head. “Uh-uh, no go. I’m busy setting up the perimeter. You’re our newest and youngest recruit so consider this part of your hazing ceremony to be with your new team. Besides, you got the biggest dick, so the codpiece won’t get lost in the salad. It looks so much better on you, anyway.”
All the guys looking at him started to chuckle. Angel gave them the finger. The jeers came fast and heavy.
“Wear it like a man! Your dad’s going to be so proud of you!”
“Guard your jewels! All those ladies going after that thing because it’s going to net them eight hundred bucks!”
“I th
ink he’s going to get ripped to pieces.”
“I saw on the camera how sweet he was on that twerking, bodalicious babe, dude. I’m betting my money on her. You know he’s going to want her to get his codpiece off.”
“Yeah, dude. Think about it. If she wins, you can hang on to that booty next to you all day and night. Doing your job and contributing to charity—nice reward!”
Angel thought of Mimi’s hands between his legs, doing things that had nothing to do with his codpiece. Damn it. Just the image had his dick reacting predictably, tapping hard against the leather covering. He was glad the latter was there, hiding his telltale bulge.
Fine. He’d go through this. And knowing Mimi would be there made it worthwhile being manhandled. Heck, he was a SEAL. He’d make sure she would be the closest. And then later—who knows? He might find some private time with the hottest booty at this party and let her handle what was under the codpiece.
He stopped the grin forming on his lips. No need to elicit more teasing from this bunch of charmers.
“Cowards, all,” he told them nonchalantly. “I’ll show you guys SEAL maneuver number 99.”
More hoots followed his challenge. It was an inside joke. Dusty’s wife had left one of those women’s magazines in the office and the guys had thumbed through an article titled “Drive Your Man Wild With These Sex Positions” or something inane like that. Dusty had taken a lot of ribbing since, over which sexual position his wife wanted him to try out. Number 99 was called Stand At Attention, which elicited even more laughter from all of them. Apparently, the magazine had some kind of notion that men couldn’t stand still and take it. After all, they were all veterans and standing at attention would be no problem at all.
“We didn’t have a woman in bed giving that kind of attention while we were standing at attention, though,” Dusty had pointed out, tongue-in-cheek. “We might not have been so impeccably still during inspection.”
Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset Page 61
