A few of them appeared human-like, though I knew none of them really were. And none of them were paying a single shred of attention to me.
None except for one.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood at the edge of the dance floor, alone and unmoving among the others rocking and gliding. He wore a black suit complete with gloves and a black mask that looked out of place where everyone else had dropped their own disguises. The only bit of color was a blood-red bowtie.
For a moment, I wondered if he was the shifter who’d flirted with me earlier but the eyes were completely different; dark, almost black, and bottomless. And the way he stood wasn’t an alpha stance. If anything, it was beaten. Despite his set shoulders, he seemed defeated somehow.
He gave no indication as to what kind of creature he was or what had made him stop moving. My fae senses were completely at a loss.
The only thing I knew for certain was that he was staring right at me.
I could feel it as surely as I felt Kristoff’s weight lilting toward me on the tiny couch. Except the stranger’s attention didn’t make my skin crawl. In fact, his presence drew me in until I forgot all about the tech billionaire scuzbucket beside me.
“Yes?” Kristoff prompted, leaning in. I felt his gaze sweep down to my cleavage and then back up to my face as I finally wrenched my eyes from the mysterious stranger. “What else do you like?”
“Um.” I set my drink aside, trying to remember what I’d been about to say. The music pouring through the enormous speakers was making it hard to think. Or maybe it was my brain catching frostbite. Hells Angels, this drink was cold.
“Dancing,” I said and shot to my feet just before Kristoff’s mouth could brush my earlobe. “I love this song!”
I took a few steps toward the dance floor, scanning for the man I’d seen a moment ago. But he was gone.
A hand landed on my lower back, and the smell of fireball hit me as Kristoff whispered, “I only know how to slow dance. I hope that’s all right.”
Ugh. I rolled my eyes and led the way to the dance floor. It was perfect for what I needed to do, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the price.
The band was good, I noticed, casting a quick glance toward the stage. Dastardly Deeds had a reputation for putting entire parties on their ass thanks to Marina, the lead singer. From what I’d heard, her siren song could make your feet move until well past their physical limits, leaving you sore at best. Dead at worst. I could only assume she’d taken her power down a notch for tonight since no one looked glassy-eyed or on the verge of collapsing.
Still, there was a definite pull to sway to her song, and it only got stronger the closer I got to where she stood onstage covered only by her long blue hair and a few crystal sequins. By the time I reached the dance floor—an open area with speakers pointed directly at the dancers—my entire body pulsed with the rhythm of the music.
I found an empty space on the floor and turned to find Kristoff close behind me. He reached for me eagerly and wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me close. I wound an arm around his neck and let the other rest casually on his shoulder. His skin already felt hot to the touch, which for hellhounds was probably par for the course, but still.
Maybe if I didn’t encourage him, he’d keep his hands—
Not even five seconds into our swaying, one of his hands dropped low, grazing my ass.
I gritted my teeth.
Kristoff’s eyes met mine. He smiled suggestively. I smirked back at him.
All around us, couples bobbed and swayed, but Kristoff barely shuffled side to side. If his moves in bed were anything like his dancing, it was no wonder he had to pay for dates. Not that I ever planned to find out for sure.
I waited until at least a minute or two into our dance before I let my hands begin to wander. True to my assumption, the moment mine did, Kristoff’s did too. I did my best to ignore the gentle rubbing over my hips and let my own hand drop to his waist, slinking around to hold him tighter as my fingers continued to idly brush over his jacket. In return, Kristoff’s hand dropped lower too, brushing over the top of my ass for the second time.
I bit my tongue and kept up the charade.
Swaying a bit more heavily, I dropped my hand again, this time dipping my fingers into his front coat pocket.
Nothing.
Damn.
I slid my hand free again and worked it slowly up his chest before letting it rest on his shoulder. Then I repeated the whole thing with my left hand. Finally, I managed to dip into his coat pocket and my fingers closed over a small rectangular item.
I slid my fingers over it to be sure and was rewarded with three solid edges and a fourth hollow end—perfect for plugging into a tech device.
Thank the Angel.
I closed my fist around the chip and slid it free, using my body to distract Kristoff. And while I hated everything about what I was doing, I couldn’t help the tiny sense of victory. I’d gotten the chip without losing my dignity—well, not completely. I’d passed my test.
Next stop, detective.
But Kristoff wasn’t done with me yet.
His swaying increased a bit and so did the pressure. Apparently all of my hand movements had been taken as an invitation for more intimate touching. He pressed into me, mostly with his groin. His hands on my hips tightened and one of them slid down to cup my ass.
I drew back, not even needing to fake the shock and outrage in my expression. “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
His thick brows drew together in confusion.
Before he could answer, I shoved him away, playing up the dramatics so that others would hear us. Hopefully, the embarrassment I’d cause him would make him think twice about trying to call me ever again—which would be a good thing since the phone number he had wouldn’t work after tonight.
“We’re dancing,” he sputtered.
“Last time I checked, dancing is more of a move-your-feet activity. Not your hands. Next time a girl agrees to a dance, keep your hands to yourself,” I said loudly.
Then I spun on my heel, making sure to whip my hair in his face, and stalked off. The moment I was clear, I reached up and dropped the tech-chip into my bra for safekeeping. Without missing a beat, I headed for the nearest exit. Party of the year or not, it was time to get the hell out of here.
The rest of my life was waiting.
Chapter Three
I ducked through the nearest archway, fingers crossed that the passageway led to an exit. Considering the magic that had brought me into the party, I wasn’t sure if leaving was as simple as walking out the front door, but anywhere was better than the same room as the hellhound I’d just stolen from. Maybe if I got far enough from the noise, my earpiece would work to contact Rigo for a way out.
The walls of the stone hall were bare aside from the sconces mounted at regular intervals. Even those only put out just enough light to navigate around the next bend. This part of the castle was obviously not meant for loitering. The message was clear: the party was in the main ballroom and everyone should stick to that space.
Except that was now the one place I couldn’t go.
But even here, the music still pulsed, and the smooth walls vibrated with the heavy drum beats. Underneath that, a current of energy—lust, if my fae senses were correct—wove its way through everything, growing stronger as I passed a narrow corridor wrapped in darkness.
I squinted into the blackness that seemed to swallow the passage, but the light didn’t seem to penetrate beyond the opening. Strange. At least here, sconces and torches lit the way, but none of that light penetrated the smaller passageway.
I paused, letting my senses investigate what lay on the other side of the heavy door at the far end. Two bodies—pressed tightly enough together they might as well be one. And none of the noises coming from inside sounded like a call for help.
Not an exit then.
Apparently, the curtained beds inside the ballroom weren’t the only place for priva
te partying.
Doubling back to the main corridor, I passed two women walking in the opposite direction. One of them studied me, obviously trying to catch my eye. I kept my head down and pretended not to notice her. I could only handle so many problems at once and I damn sure couldn’t afford for her to stop and chat with me. Her friend seemed less inclined to conversation, though, and they passed on without a word.
After another few steps, my ears twitched with some tiny sound.
My senses went on alert and I paused to listen.
Behind me, footsteps approached. Heavy, steady—purposeful from the sound of it. Not some wanderer. And whoever it was, they were headed this way.
Shit.
If Kristoff’s hound had scented more than an airhead with a sudden sense of self-worth, I was screwed—and not in the way he’d hoped for.
“You forgot to leave your shoe.”
I sucked in a sharp breath as a familiar face rounded the bend. Not Kristoff. The other guy I’d rejected tonight. The one who’d flirted with me when I’d first arrived. Despite the danger I was running from, butterflies danced in my belly at the sight of his bright blue eyes fixed so intently on mine.
“My shoe?” I repeated, breathless at his closeness. He’d been handsome before, but now that I took the time to study him, he was traffic-stopping hot.
He pointed to my feet. “If you’re going to pull a Cinderella and run out of the ball so early, you’re supposed to leave your shoe behind. It’ll make it easier to hunt you down later.”
I scowled. “And what if I don’t want to be hunted down?”
He stepped closer, an easy smile on his tanned face. “Every girl wants to be hunted.”
I shook my head. “Does that line actually work for you?”
He shrugged. “You tell me.”
When he leaned in again, I held up a hand to stop him. “Uh-uh. You’re cute, but it’s not that easy. And neither am I.”
A smile played on his delicious mouth. “Yes, I think you made that point crystal clear for the entire dance floor. Trust me, no one thinks you’re easy tonight.”
I bit my lip, cringing at the idea that so many might have seen my show with Kristoff. “The entire dance floor?” I repeated.
“Relax. It took you off their radar which I suspect is what you wanted in the first place.” He cocked his head, studying me. “Tell me, why does a girl who doesn’t want company come to a party like this one, anyway?”
“I told you, window shopping.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Funny, you don’t strike me as the type to look when you don’t plan to touch.”
Heat crept up my throat and into my cheeks as I imagined touching him the way I’d touched Kristoff. Roaming hands, swaying bodies, torsos pressed tight—
“You also had me pegged for the Cinderella type,” I shot back before the fantasy blurred right into reality. “Just goes to show you don’t know nearly as much about me as you think you do.”
He leaned in close until I was backed against the wall. My shoulders hit the cold, smooth stone, and I was glad for the way it cooled the heat already building underneath my skin. It wasn’t fair how hot he could make me with just those eyes.
Slowly, he reached up and placed a hand on either side of my head, trapping me. I had no doubt he’d back off if I told him to, but the words died on my tongue before I could say them. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t seem to tear myself from his gaze.
“You’re right. I don’t know you at all,” he said quietly. A predator sizing up its prey. “But I’d like to.”
His lips brushed my jawline in a kiss that was clearly meant as an invitation. I shuddered, my skin tingling deliciously where his lips had grazed.
How long had it been since I’d let someone touch me like this? Six months? Seven? Hell, if I didn’t get a hold of my own willpower, I was going to combust long before we even arrived at the main event.
“Shouldn’t we start with introductions,” I murmured, leaning into his mouth where it was nuzzling at my ear. God, this guy was an animal. I wondered how that translated to his sexual prowess and another shudder shook my shoulders. I reached up and grabbed his shirt, a little embarrassed at myself for it.
“I’m Jax McGuire. And you are?”
Turned on. “Gem Hawkins.”
The words were out before I could stop them. Shit. Not my real name. What in the hell was I thinking?
Right. I wasn’t thinking. Not with my brain anyway.
Jax pressed another kiss to my jawline, this one farther back, near my ear. “It’s nice to meet you, Gem Hawkins,” he whispered.
His hands landed on my hips and then quickly swept upward. Fingertips grazed my breasts, and I let my head fall backward. “Oh, it’s nice…” I tried responding and then gave up, completely lost in the sensations of his hands on me. “So nice,” I panted.
He laughed and the deep, rich sound of it sent warmth straight through my core.
“Not fair,” I said as his mouth left a trail of kisses down my exposed throat. His hands touched and teased as they worked my breasts. Through the thin fabric of the dress, his thumb found my already-pointed nipples. When he flicked lightly, I moaned again.
“This?” he asked innocently. “This isn’t fair?”
“No, this is very… I’ll allow it,” I said, and he laughed again.
“That,” I insisted, reaching out to run my own hands over his broad chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the hard lines of defined muscle. “That laugh,” I insisted. “It’s entirely too sexy. Cheating.”
He raised his head so that we were eye to eye now. His lids were heavy, his dark eyes intense with desire. One of his hands wound around the small of my back, pulling me toward him until we were pressed tightly together in all the right places. “Shut me up then,” he said.
His mouth closed over mine, and if not for his arm holding me up, I would have liquified and melted into a puddle right there. His mouth was hot and urgent on mine. There was no hesitation, no soft request for permission. Only heat and need and a demand that I offer whatever he wanted from me.
Any other man would have been swiftly ass-kicked for such a move. But right now, all I wanted was to surrender and let him take every single gift I had to offer.
Lust curled inside me, aching and straining as I clung to him. One hand fisted in his shirt. The other wound around his neck, pulling him even closer as our mouths pushed and pulled at the other. His hand grazed my breast before dropping low to graze my thigh. His fingers trailed a line upward, dipping underneath the hem of my dress. I panted into his mouth, rocking my hips into his hand, nearly desperate now.
But he pulled his hand back and eased his mouth from mine just enough to say, “Why don’t we take this party somewhere more private so we can get to know each other?”
I blinked to clear the fog and make sense of his words.
Angel balls.
He meant one of those dark rooms I’d passed; the ones with all the noises coming from inside. “I…”
Jax straightened, leaning away from me. His hand dropped into mine, tugging me along. “Come on. I know a place.”
In the space he’d left between us, a gust of fresh air—and clarity—hit me. What the hell was I about to agree to? A quickie in a broom closet was one thing, but I was on an active mission.
I looked up at Jax, still trying to lead me away.
He was so damn sure of himself. A man who was used to getting what—and who—he wanted. And apparently, he’d decided he wanted me. My body ached to let him have me. But we weren’t even past first base and already I was losing control.
Something I couldn’t afford to do. Not tonight anyway.
“Jax.” I pulled away, almost positive I was going to regret this later.
He turned back, his intense blue eyes nearly eating right through my resolve. “What’s up, gorgeous?”
Definitely going to regret this lat
er. “I think I need to take a raincheck.”
He didn’t falter an inch. If anything, his grin only grew wider, more knowing. He stepped close again and kissed my cheek, this time without all the pheromones he’d unleashed on me earlier.
“Darling,” he said, “I expected nothing less.” Then he let go of my hand and backed away.
My eyes narrowed. “Really? That’s it? You’re giving up?”
He winked as he retreated backward. “Not even close. We’ll meet again, Gem, and I won’t need a shoe to find you.”
I watched as he turned and disappeared back the way he’d come, his hips literally swaying with swagger. For the second time tonight, I was speechless at the sight of his perfect ass.
How had I just said no to that?
I hated myself already.
No, I hated Rodrigo. He definitely deserved another punch for what I’d just thrown away. It was time to find him and deliver.
Chapter Four
Alone once again, I made it far enough down the hallway that the noise of the music faded behind me. Hopefully that meant I was nearing an exit although my senses told me I’d somehow managed to wander farther than the magic wanted. A musty smell hung in the air, and the lights seemed dimmer this way. It was looking more and more like I wasn’t getting out of here without Rodrigo’s help. Maybe that’s how he’d wanted it all along.
“Cadet to base, do you copy?” I wiggled my earpiece, hoping the interference from the speakers inside hadn’t totally fried the connection. The cadets always got hand-me-down gear, and the comms were straight up shit on the best days. “Cadet to base, do you copy?” I repeated when no answer came.
I sighed and then reminded myself tonight was the last night I’d ever have to deal with shoddy equipment. Or Rodrigo for that matter. SSF provided their agents with only the best, most advanced gear including comms and anything else required by the mission.
My future as detective had never felt so close.
I took a right at the next intersection—a route that would take me farther away from the party—and kept walking, sticking to the outside of the hallway as it curved around. Was this entire passageway one big circle then? It was a fun design but not very practical when one didn’t want to be seen.
The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 16
