Intoxicated (14 page)

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Authors: Jeana E. Mann

BOOK: Intoxicated
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Thank goodness she had stepped out of her comfort zone long enough to don an indecently short pink baby doll dress. The halter top and bare back weren’t her style, but this particular pink dress had caught her eye and had hung unworn in her closet. She’d never had the balls to wear it until now. The appreciation in Jack’s eyes as he took in her cleavage told her that it was worth the risk.

“Drinks are on the house, ladies,” he said. “I’ve got two seats for you at the end of the bar.” He nodded to the right. Ally took a step in that direction then froze.

“Wow! The VIP treatment,” Karly said. Her eyes went round with amazement.

“Oh hell no.” Ally backed into Karly and tread on the poor girl’s toes. “No freaking way am I sitting there.”

Jack’s Seat of Shame and the barstool beside it sat empty and waiting despite the cluster of giggling, fawning females gathered behind it. As much as Ally wanted him, she had no desire to sit in that seat. That barstool represented everything she disliked about Jack and herself. If he thought she was just another one of his pitiful groupies, he was sorely mistaken. No matter how much she wanted him, she would not let herself become one of those desperate, pathetic girls who hung on his every word while everyone else laughed behind their backs.
Hell no
.

“What’s the matter?” Karly asked, looking from Ally to Jack and back to Ally.
 

Jack frowned and walked around the end of the bar. “Is the seat dirty? Here. Let me wipe it off before you sit down.”

“It’ll take more than soap and water to clean that,” Ally said.

Jack caught the note of sarcasm in her voice and an expression of enlightenment flickered over his face. He straightened and took a deep breath. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Their eyes met with perfect understanding.

“Really? You can’t be serious.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she shook her head.
 

“It’s a deal breaker,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest.

Without missing a beat, he called out to the two bearded bikers sitting at the opposite end of the bar. “Vinnie! Tinker! Get your asses up and let the ladies sit down there.” The two men, adorned with heavy beards and chains sweeping from wallet to waistband, groaned and rolled their eyes but got up anyway. Jack made a deep, theatrical bow and swept an arm in that direction. “My lady.”

“Am I missing something here?” Karly asked as they sat down. “What is it with you two?”

“Anything you want, baby,” Jack whispered in Ally’s ear. “All you have to do is ask.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. Maybe she’d been out of line, but she couldn’t help feeling a surge of triumph over this small battle. As he passed by her to reclaim his post behind the counter, his fingers trailed along her waist, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

People crowded around the bar shouting drink orders, bumping and jostling in the quest for a greater buzz. With the expertise born from years of practice, Jack poured out an extra dirty vodka martini for Karly and a gin and tonic with two limes for Ally. She watched his long fingers as they popped the tops of four beer cans, skimmed along the polished bar surface to scrape up money, and punched buttons on the antique cash register. He did everything with ease, exchanging quips with the patrons as he went about his business, and doling out orders to the other bartenders. No matter how busy he was, he always returned at just the right moment with a fresh drink or a couple of shots for them.

“This place is insane,” Karly said into her ear while tugging on her arm, drawing her attention away from Jack. “Let’s go dance. I want to dance.”

Jack appeared in front of them even though there was no way he had heard over the raucous music. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll save your seats for you.”

With a shrug, Ally downed her drink for courage then let Karly drag her out of the bar area and onto the dance floor where bodies jostled against each other and the scents of leather and sweat mingled. The music throbbed with a rhythm that matched Ally’s pulse. Karly was immediately snatched up by a young man with a pierced upper lip and dissolved into the mass of dancers. Ally raised her arms over her head and lost herself to the graveled voice of the lead singer and the demonic counter melody of the bass player. Buffeted on all sides by strangers, it was easy to forget all of her worries and concentrate on the music.

 

As Ally left for the dance floor, an unfamiliar stabbing sensation caused Jack to raise a hand to rub his chest. The sensation, although distracting, wasn’t altogether unpleasant. It was more akin to the adrenalin rush he felt right before bungee jumping or skydiving — as if something exhilarating and beyond his control was about to happen. It had happened once before when he’d met Ally outside her building to take her to the lake. The moment she had stepped out of those revolving doors and her green eyes landed on him as he waited by the sidewalk, his heart had leaped into his throat.
 

“You’re worse than a freaking teenager,” Randy grumbled, shoving him aside to reach the cash register. “You haven’t stopped smiling for the last hour.”

“Bite me,” Jack replied. With monumental effort, he tore his eyes away from Ally’s ass and back to the business of serving drinks.
 

“Seriously, dude. What are you doing? You’ve been sniffing after that chick like a dog in heat. You either need to hit or quit it ‘cause I can’t take it any longer.” Randy held a pitcher underneath the margarita machine. When nothing happened, he slapped it with the palm of his hand and cursed.
 

“Yeah, well...” Jack’s voice trailed off. “What can I say, man? She fascinates me.”

“Obviously.” Randy rolled his eyes then pounded on the top of the machine in frustration. “I’m not against it. It’s just weird seeing you fall all over yourself for a piece of ass. I hate this machine.”

“You’ve got to hit it on the side above the logo like this,” Jack said with a scowl as he smacked the machine with the flat of his hand. It groaned and sputtered then began to dispense slushy liquid with a deafening roar. “As much as this thing cost, you’d think it would work better than this. And she’s not just a piece of ass. She’s...complicated.”

Randy handed the pitcher to Tasha, the waitress, and turned around to face Jack. With his arms folded across his chest, he regarded his boss with open curiosity. “Complicated? Really? You must have some kind of death wish. After Chelsea, I would’ve thought you were done with complicated.”
 

“Chelsea’s not complicated — she’s psycho. Ally is...” Jack paused long enough to place another pitcher underneath the machine which refused to shut off once it had started. “I just can’t figure her out. There’s so much going on inside that head of hers.”

Two girls, dressed in hooker boots and mini-skirts, shoved their way up to the bar and beamed at Jack. Oblivious, he moved away to serve another round to Tinker and Vinnie. The girls scowled with disappointment, but brightened as Randy stepped up to take their orders.

Tasha was the newest addition to the Felony staff. Dressed in torn fishnets and platform leather booths, she was a perfect fit with the crazy atmosphere and her no-nonsense attitude kept the patrons in line. She had been waiting patiently for her next order throughout this conversation, but after a few minutes, slammed her serving tray onto the counter, and walked around the bar to retrieve two canned beers from the cooler. With exaggerated motions, she placed the beer cans on the tray. “Men are such idiots,” she said with a scowl. With a shake of her pigtails, she picked up the tray again and made her way out to the floor.

“I think I’m in love,” Randy said with a sigh, his eyes following Tasha’s lithe form as she glided away.
 

“Don’t screw the help,” Jack replied with a stern glare.
 

“Why not? You always do.”
 

“And I was stupid for doing it,” Jack replied. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. Besides, Tasha’s pretty good and she might actually stay if you keep your hands off of her.”

“But...”
 

“No,” Jack repeated. “There are a hundred girls here who don’t work for us. Pick one of them.”

 

Out on the dance floor, Ally felt the stress of the work week fade. One song melted into another as she swayed and bounced with the crowd. The heat from all those bodies built until beads of sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts. Pleasantly inebriated, she danced with a pair of guys rocking shaved heads until she felt a pair of hands on her hips. She whirled to find Jack behind her, his dark eyes serious. As if by some silent understanding, the skinhead twins melted back into the throng of bodies. Jack pulled her close. Despite his height, he moved with the sinewy grace of a professional dancer. When she turned away and shot a saucy glance at him over her shoulder, he pulled her back against his chest. With his hands on her hips, he molder against her until she felt every hard muscled inch of his torso from shoulder to thigh. She put her hands on his thighs, holding him close to her, moving with him in a sexual grind that made her body tingle with anticipation. When she raised her arms and buried her hands in his hair, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her neck.
 

The man could move —
really move
— in a way that made all the women watch with open mouths and their boyfriends scowl in disapproval. With his hands holding her hips to his pelvis, rolling and grinding against her, it was all too easy for her thoughts to drift towards sex. Jack appeared oblivious to everything but Ally. They danced until she was hot and breathless. The filmy material of her dress clung to the perspiration on her body. When she thought her knees might give out from exhaustion, Jack grabbed her by the hand and pulled her toward the bar.
 

“Jesus, it’s hot out there,” he said when they reached her barstool. “What do you want to drink, baby?”
 

“A glass of ice water, please, and a shot of whiskey.” The stifling heat left wisps of hair stuck to her temples. She gathered the straggling locks in one hand and raised them to cool her neck. Jack leaned over to blow softly on her nape. The intimate breeze caused her flesh to pebble and her nipples to harden. Despite the heat, she shivered.
 

“Hitting it hard tonight, aren’t you?” With one finger, he pushed back a damp tendril of hair from her temple.
 

The weight of the shot glass felt good in her hand. She slammed down the shot and met his gaze. “Don’t worry about it. I could drink you under the table,” she said. A muffled squeak escaped her as his hand moved to her thigh and squeezed.
 

“Does your friend have a designated driver?” The hand moved a little higher, brushing back the hem of the dress.

“Yep, the Friendly Cab Service is our DD tonight,” she said, still breathless from his touch and all the exercise.

“Not you —
her
. You don’t need a ride home.” His gaze darkened. “I’ll take you home — in the morning.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Or the afternoon.” One long finger swept from temple to chin then tickled along her neck and shoulder. “I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

Those words, spoken so softly she had to lean forward to hear them, sent waves of desire straight into her womb. With visions of cheesecake and neckties in her mind, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, teasing his tongue with hers.

“Shit,” he whispered.
 

She smiled at him then turned to scan the crowd for signs of Karly, and spied her crammed into a nearby booth with a handful of guys. A beautiful smile graced the girl’s face as she gestured with her hands, red curls bouncing. From the expressions of her companions, they found her as captivating as Ally did. She was telling one of her many amusing tales, Ally thought with a sudden rush of pleasure at seeing her friend so happy. Satisfied that all was well, Ally turned back to Jack.

“I’d really like to strip off that little dress of yours and see what’s underneath,” Jack said, his voice deep and rough. “You’re not wearing a bra, are you?”

“Stop it.” Instead of cooling her off, his words raised her temperature another degree. She smiled but glanced around nervously to make sure that no one else had heard. “What would Chelsea say about that?”

“I don’t give a damn what Chelsea thinks.” He withdrew his hand from her thigh and scowled. “What do you know about Chelsea anyway?”

“Nothing, because that’s exactly what you’ve told me about her. But she must be someone pretty important if you run off after her the other night. So until I get an explanation about Chelsea,
this
...” She made a grand circle with her hand to encompass her torso. “This is off limits to you, Mister.”

“Hmmm...” Those dark enigmatic eyes swept down her face to her breasts, lingered there a few seconds while her nipples peaked again, and then ever so slowly trailed down to her pink polished toes and back up. Her body tingled wherever he looked, as if the path of his gaze was as real as his touch. “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” Too drunk to lie, she stuck to the bald truth. “I told you before that I’m not into multiple partners. If you want me, then you have to be with me —
just me
— and no one else. I won’t be another notch on your headboard.”

“I don’t have a headboard. Besides, I’ve already had you.” The full lips twisted into a sly grin. “What makes you think that I want you again? You know I’m not a repeat offender.”
 

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