Good Girl Gone Bad (12 page)

He wanted her to stop, to dance only for him.

He couldn’t force her to stop, he couldn’t demand it. Hell, he was supposed to be invisible, evident only if the patron got out of hand. And by the looks of Jase, it was a damn good thing he’d insisted on chaperoning even after Jase tried to convince Ty he wouldn’t let anything get out of control.
Right
. Jase wanted her about as bad as he did right now. Despite the blonde’s manipulation of Jase’s growing hard-on.

Phil unhooked the button to her skirt and let it slip down her thighs. She kicked it off. Turning to face him, she crossed her arms over her breasts, the movement slow, sleek, and fluid, as if part of her dance. She looked directly at Ty, her eyes hot. A small smile tugged at her lips as she bit at her lower lip.

His gut stumbled and fell. Why, the little hussy. She was playing
him,
not Jase! He resisted a smug smile in return. His blood cooled a degree. She was just like the rest. A woman using her body to torment a man, to get what she wanted. And what was it she wanted from him? He didn’t know, but he’d be damned if he’d be her plaything. Anger swelled.

Ty moved farther back into the shadowed corner of the room. Patience was his friend and he’d wait into the next day to watch Officer Zorn hang herself.

Phil’s heart thudded against her chest. Kat wanted to let loose, strip down to her birthday suit, and flaunt it all under Ty’s nose. The thought left Phil mortified.

Jase’s grin and Ty’s scowl should have urged her on. Instead, Jase’s eagerness to engage in extracurricular activities and Ty’s disapproval set her nerves on edge. The last thing she wanted was to come between the men’s friendship.

Suddenly sandwiched between the two women, Phil felt hot breath on her neck. As she slowly undulated to the thick, native drumbeat of the music, hands came from behind her. Stopping just inches away from her breasts, the hands pantomimed caressing. The woman in front of her reached back and began running her hands up and down, inches from Phil’s legs. Her skin warmed and her breasts swelled. She wanted contact. She closed her eyes, grappling to control her body’s shocking desire.

Opening her eyes she caught Jase’s dark eyes. His brow forged hard, the planes of his face angled. Perspiration dampened his brow.

She used her body and the body of the other two women to virtually satisfy what she knew to be most every man’s fantasy. Watching women make love. And in so doing, she gave herself permission to enjoy.

In unison, the blonde and brunette slipped their bras off. Their full breasts rose high and Phil couldn’t deny their beauty.

“Kitty Kat, I have a friend who would really like you,” the blonde said.

Two pair of hands slipped around her waist, the touch gentle yet shocking. A sharp intake of breath erupted from one of the men behind her; Phil crossed her hand over her breasts and turned.

Even as she forbade herself to do so, she lifted her gaze to Ty. Only his eyes pierced the dark shadows of the corner where he stood.

Sharp angry eyes.

“I said no touching,” Ty barked.

Abruptly the music ended. “Dance over,” he said just as caustically.

Jase threw the girls’ clothes at them, then rearranged his pants. A moment later they left, Jase walking stiffly. Ty and Phil ignored their departure, silently staring at each other.

Standing only in a G-string and her heels, her arms crossed over her bare breasts, Phil felt horny and vulnerable, but battle ready. She shivered as Ty stalked close to her.

“You’re a whore at heart.”

Holding one hand across her breasts, she slapped him with the other. This time there would be no apologies.

With the precision movement of a dojo master, Ty grabbed her hand and jerked her against him, freeing the secured hand and forcing her breasts against the plane of his chest. Her nipples, now steel hard, felt as if they would pierce his shirt, the heat between them so intense that the sprinkler system should have been going off.

Phil moaned as Ty’s viselike grip held her motionless. She became aware of the throbbing lump in his pants pressing against her sensitive pussy. Looking into his eyes, she could see his pain. Before he could speak, Phil moved her hips ever so slightly against him. She heard his breath catch and lowered her eyelids to hide her triumph. He may have been holding her, but she was clearly in control.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered inches from his face. She nipped at his bottom lip. “Do you want me?” she asked, digging her nails into his back. “Do you want to slam me up against the wall and fuck me?” She bit his neck. He hissed in a sharp breath. “Do you want control?”

As Ty stood ramrod stiff, she ran a palm down his belly to his cock. His brain had no control over that head. He surged against her. “Does it hurt?” she whispered.

Resisting the impulse to pull her hard against him and claim her was the hardest thing Ty had ever had to do. Primal instinct grappled with his self-control.

He scowled hard as he pondered her questions. While the answer to each was an emphatic yes, he was completely caught off guard by her.

Phil slid her hand down his thigh, resting it there. She pressed her body full against his. Her scent wafted up to his nostrils and her heat singed him. “If I’m nothing but a whore, what does that make you?”

He stood frozen and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing. What spell did this woman hold over him? His grip weakened. Before he could answer her, she spun away, scooping up her clothes and exited the room, leaving Ty out of breath and out of answers.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“M
y friend said I’d like you.”

Phil stopped her flight from Ty and looked at the man who emerged from a shadowed alcove, her instincts on high alert. Could this be their man?

“Oh really? Who’s your friend?”

He smiled, the gesture reminding her of a fox. “That little blondie you just danced for.”

She stepped closer to get a better look at his shadowed face. Familiarity clung to him. “Have we met?” she asked, sure they had crossed paths at some time.

He stepped closer, the flashing strobe of the ceiling lights flickering across his face. He was tall, blond, her age, his face unremarkable, but still it struck a chord. A chill skittered across her skin, the familiar feeling not a warm and fuzzy one.

“I think I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Phil smiled and smoothed back her hair. “Thank you, Mr….?”

“Scott, Scott Mason.”

That familiar buzz zapped her brain. She knew that name, she knew this person. But how? Where? Her gut told her the memory was not a pleasant one, and with that, her gut also told her this man was dangerous.

Phil extended her hand. “Mr. Mason, my name is Kat, I’m happy to meet you.”

His hand wrapped firmly around hers, the contact felt disturbing. She fought her instinctive reaction to pull away. He pulled her toward him.

“The pleasure is all mine.” His dark eyes glittered, his grip increasing around her hand. He stood so close to her, she could smell his bad breath. Phil blew air from her nose so as not to inhale his stale scent. How, she wondered, did the girls put up with these guys? He physically repulsed her, yet she knew she had to keep in character if she was going to pursue him as a lead.

Licking her lips suggestively, Phil asked, “What can I do for you, Mr. Mason?”

He trailed his middle finger across her palm and his smile increased significantly. “The question is, what can I do for you?”

“I’m all ears.”

“I have lots of money and you have incredible lips.”

“And?”

“I have this vision of them locked around my dick.”

“I’m not a whore.”

He still held her hand, but now his fingers traced up her arm. It was all Phil could do to allow him to touch her. “C’mon, baby, all women are whores at heart.”

Recognition registered. Scott Mason. Kyle Thompson’s crony and one of several boys witness to her humiliation. Her spine straightened. She needed to give Ty his name to run this guy through the system.

Did he have anything to do with the kidnapper or was he just your average run-of-the-mill misogynist perv?

Phil extracted her arm from his grip. “I’m afraid, Mr. Mason, you misunderstand my job description, I—”

“C’mon now, Kat, five hundred to make me a happy man.”

Over Mason’s shoulder she caught Ty’s dark scowl. Like a hawk standing guard, he watched her work Mason. She was grateful for once he didn’t barge in like a fireman to the rescue. Maybe he did respect her skills after all.

She turned her full attention to Scott Mason. “Be specific.”

“You and me back at my place, anything goes. The sky’s the limit. I’ll pay you enough to take a week off from this joint.”

“That would be several thousand dollars.”

“No sweat, and if you’re good, I have friends that’ll pay more.”

Kat smiled and flirtatiously touched her fingertips to her hair again and smoothed a lock. “I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t make me wait.” He turned and looked over his shoulder to the stage where Daria, a lanky redhead, hung upside down from the central pole, dry humping the air. “There’s lots of pussy to choose from.”

Phil moved a half step toward him. “Why settle for ground beef when with a little patience you can have steak?”

Before she took it upon herself to commit to anything with this man, she needed to confer with her team, and get Scott Mason’s stats, to see what they were up against.

To buy her some time, she ran a fingertip down his zipper flap. His less than remarkable hard-on reared. “I get out of here at two—”

He pressed her hand against his crotch. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, his voice harsh.

She pulled her hand from beneath his and smiled coyly. “I’m sure you will be.”

Quickly, she moved away, not wanting to subject herself to any more contact. She caught Ty’s eyes over the crowd and inclined her head toward the main bar.

“I’m back on the floor, Bud,” she called to the old man as she stepped up to the edge of the bar.

He smiled and nodded.

“What’s going on, Zorn?” Ty asked from behind her.

Phil continued to face the bar, not taking the chance to invoke suspicion from Mason if he was watching her. She’d just look like a hardworking cocktailer doing her job.

“You need to run a Scott Mason. Year of birth anywhere from seventy-eight to eighty. He might be our man.”

Before Ty could respond, she grabbed a tray from the bar and headed back out to the crowed floor.

She came across Reese, dark and brooding in the corner as usual. “You really need to get out more often, Reese,” she quipped.

“I get out enough.”

“Sure you do.” She leaned her arm against the edge of his table. “Did you see that slimeball I was chatting with earlier?”

“The skinny blond guy?”

“That would be the one.”

“What about him?” Reese asked.

“Have you seen him here before?”

Reese’s eyed narrowed. “I can’t say that I have.”

“He might be our man. He knows one of the girls Jase picked up. The blonde half of the two-girl couple who’s been here each night of the kidnappings. Maybe they mark the victim and he’s the bag man. When you run through the surveillance tapes, look hard for him, he might be incognito.”

A chill swept Phil’s bare skin. As she spoke her thoughts, there was a vital piece missing.

“He can’t be our man, unless—” Realization dawned. Reese’s brows lifted, and if she didn’t have his undivided attention earlier she had it now. “If the MO is followed, then how would he know that, like the other girls, I have no family, no one holding me here?”

“Someone told him.”

They looked at each other as solid realization dawned.

“Ask me if I want another drink,” Reese grumbled. Phil realized several men had moved into hearing distance.

“Can I get you another one of those?” she asked, pointing to his empty glass.

He nodded. The music subsided a note. She leaned forward. “Our man or woman is inside, Reese.”

“We suspected it, but if this guy makes a move, that confirms it.”

Phil nodded, excited. The club employed almost two dozen employees, any one of them could be the link, if not
the
kidnapper. Excitement filled her. “Only someone inside the club would know each of the girls had no family.”

“We’ve run everyone connected with the club. Even the silent partners.”

“Then we go deeper. Ty’s running Scott Mason, the guy who propositioned me.”

“Be careful, Zorn, don’t even go to the can unless you have someone with you.”

“Right, I’m going to have you, Jase, or Ty stand outside the stall?”

“No, but just give the sign and I’ll wait outside the door.”

“I will.” She stepped back from the table. “I’ll be right back with that drink, mister.”

“Hurry it up.”

Phil quickly hit her tables, her smile dispelling the neglected men’s anger. She kept her eyes peeled. As she scanned the room she saw Ty come out from the back, no doubt from his office, and set up a stance near the wide hallway leading to the front door. He nodded. Good, they should have the info they needed within the hour.

She wended her way to the bar and gave Bud her drink orders. As she made her rounds, the DJ announced the next dancer, Candi. Phil scanned the floor for Ty. He was looking at her, not Candi. He smiled a wicked smile that sent shivers up her spine before he turned to face the stage.

As the featured dancer, Candi held the rapt attention of the patrons.

The little blonde wasn’t kidding when she said she was going to rock Ty’s world. Like Scheherazade, Candi’s veils swirled to the stage floor as she sauntered, strutted, and undulated her way down to just a G-string, her eyes never once leaving Ty’s.

An emotion Phil didn’t want to name grabbed her gut and twisted it. Ty stood stock still next to Milo, his arms crossed across his chest, his eyes greedily devouring Candi’s voluptuous curves. As the last chord of music struck the end of the dance, the crowd went wild and men threw bills onstage.

As Candi grabbed the bills up, Phil made the mistake of looking at Ty. His eyes bored holes into her. His jaw struck a hard line. Dragging her eyes from him, she glanced at Candi, who looked at her with the hurt look of a kicked puppy.