She swallowed. “It was incredible.”
“On that we agree.” It was one of the reasons he hadn’t hooked up with anyone else since having her. When you had something that good, why settle for anything less?
He wasn’t the type to settle. He reached for her hand. Curled his fingers around hers. For the cover and what not.
She searched his eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing me.”
Now that was interesting. “Are you sure?”
“Jinx, I’ve known you for a long time. You practically have a revolving door with women.”
He put his free hand over his heart. “Hurtful. Maybe I was just looking for the right woman. You ever consider that?”
She glanced away from him and peered at the long line.
He lifted their joined hands. Brought her hand to his lips. Pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
Her breath hissed out and her attention swung right back to him. He felt her tighten up and knew she was going to try and pull away.
“The cover, remember?” he chided before pressing another kiss to her hand. “You have to get used to me touching you. Kissing you. Otherwise, you might tip off our creepy stalker.”
She licked her lower lip. “Just—just so we agree it’s only pretend.”
Ah, back to that, were they? He sidled closer. “What’s so wrong with making it real? We both agreed the sex was incredible.”
“Jinx…”
He let her hand go. “We don’t know what eyes are already on us. You might want to look a wee bit more like you just can’t live without me, know what I mean? Go for a whole soulful, he’s-mine-and-I’d-die-for-him vibe, if you could.” He straightened his t-shirt. Not that it needed straightening. He was wearing an old-as-hell shirt, battered and torn jeans, and what he thought were truly styling kicks. He’d always been a sucker for a stupid expensive pair of shoes.
His gaze swept over her. “You look hot as hell, by the way.”
“Because you insisted I dress like a stripper.”
“Strippers wear a whole lot less clothes. I don’t know which strip clubs you’ve been to, my love, but if they dress like you, they are not going to be getting enough tips.”
She was wearing skin-tight jeans. Jeans that hugged her ass in a truly world class way. A top that dipped low and revealed the upper swell of what he knew were perfect breasts.
She’d insisted on wearing canvas shoes, saying there was no way she’d ride his motorcycle in high heels. A pity, because he’d picked out truly sexy, fuck-me heels for her.
His eyes returned to her face. She’d gone with smoky eye shadow. Slick red lipstick. And her hair had been curled to tumble around her face in a carefully tousled look.
Hot. “You know, I take it back. If you were at a strip club, I bet you’d score a ton of cash. I’d personally make it rain hundreds on you.”
“Jinx!”
He caught her arm and led her across the street. Right past the line. And right past the new security guy that War had hired to keep said line in check. The fellow recognized Jinx—as he should—and waved him inside.
I do love perks.
“What exactly was the point in us stopping here? Do you need to check in with War?” Ali asked as her gaze swept around the bar.
“The point is that I have a schedule of events for the night. Don’t worry, you’ll love everything.” He began leading her through the crowd and toward the bar. “You did before,” he added.
“What? What did you say?” Ali asked.
They were at the bar. He tapped the gleaming wood. “Two glasses of the most expensive whiskey that War has in stock.” He inclined his head to the bartender. “And, Imari, be sure you put that on War’s tab, will you?”
Perk two. War didn’t know about that perk, not yet, but he’d figure it out soon enough.
Jinx turned back to Ali, wrapped his hands around her waist and easily lifted her onto the stool. He let his hands linger on her. “You look fucking beautiful.”
Her eyes widened. Then she gave a quick nod, as if to say…
The cover.
Whatever she needed to tell herself.
He leaned toward her. He wanted her mouth. It had been entirely too long since he’d tasted Ali.
“Here you go. Twenty-three-year-old Pappy’s. I do hope you enjoy it,” Imari told him.
His head turned toward her. Her dark gaze wasn’t on him. It was on Ali, and for a moment, her stare appeared assessing.
Imari’s dark hair had been cut to frame her heart-shaped face. She was dressed all in black, like most of the staff at Armageddon. She moved with an easy grace as she slid away to take care of other customers, but her gaze returned to Ali a few times.
A few times too many. He was pretty sure he’d just seen recognition in her eyes. How the hell would she know Ali?
He reached for the whiskey. Gave one glass to Ali.
“So…” Ali smiled at him. A smile that seemed to say he was the only person in the room. She lifted her glass to toast him, and as Jinx moved in ever closer, she asked him, “Why does War’s bartender have cop eyes?”
Because that was exactly what Imari had. Eyes that picked up every detail. Eyes that were way, way too sharp.
He tapped his glass to Ali’s. “Because I think she may be an undercover cop.”
“Does War know that?”
He didn’t think so and that situation certainly made things interesting. Imari had been hired two weeks ago. War had told him that she came with great references.
Let’s revisit those references, shall we?
“Bottoms up, baby,” Jinx told Ali.
They drained their glasses.
The burn on the way down was oh, so good.
“Imari,” he called. “We’ll have two more…”
“You realize, of course, that those are one hundred and ninety dollars each,” she told him as she pressed her hands flat on the bar.
“Um, I’m sure War knows.” He turned his head toward her. Assessed. Yep. She was screaming cop. It was something in the shoulders, in the posture, a readiness that told him she was on edge. “He’ll appreciate us taste-testing for him. War likes it when we check things out for him. Sometimes, he can miss a mark or two. It’s good that he has friends who can watch his back. Look out for trouble, you know?”
Imari swallowed. Grabbed the empty glasses. “I’ll be right back.”
While she was gone, he turned back to Ali. She was still on the stool. He just happened to be standing between her legs.
“What now?” Ali whispered.
The next part of the plan. “This,” he told her. Then he leaned forward and took her mouth.
Chapter Five
She could taste the whiskey. Could taste the rich, decadent flavor that was pure Jinx. His mouth was open, his tongue was thrusting against hers, and for a moment, Ali froze.
Then…
She grabbed him. Locked her hands around his powerful shoulders and held on tight. He was obviously trying to put on a show, and she’d go all in for that.
Just pretend. Just pretend. Except, it didn’t feel pretend.
He had crowded in close between her spread legs. His hands were back around her hips. He was pulling her ever closer to him, and his mouth took hers as if he’d been starving for her.