Wound Up. Kelli Ireland
a stripper.”
The muscles in Grace’s neck tightened and made her nod sharp. “Right.”
All three women were silent at her words. That they felt sorry for her chafed. Her chin went up. “I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”
Gretchen lifted her glass, the casual gesture at direct odds with the concern reflected in her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful. Oh, and take my smartphone. Your by-the-minute phone is great if you have time to call for help, but in the event he’s an ax murderer? It’s useless. I’ll turn on the ‘find me’ feature so I can recover your body if necessary.”
Grace accepted the phone as she stood. “I have no idea where we’ll go, but I’m guessing his place. If the phone takes off at a high rate of speed in the next couple of hours? Come after me.” She glanced at her watch. “Gotta go.”
She tried to keep her pace casual and controlled as she headed for the front door. In truth, though, she wanted to run. Despite her best efforts, her strides lengthened until she was charging through the club. Several women commented on her passing. Most of the words were benign if a little jealous, but some were downright mean. Grace didn’t slow down. She wasn’t going to allow herself to apologize for wanting sex, for enjoying it and for taking advantage of the moment. Had she been a man, she’d have been admired for the conquest. As a woman, she wasn’t about to apologize for the same. Justin would be her conquest as much as she’d be his.
Cool air heavy with mist washed over her as she pushed through the club’s front doors. She stopped and slowly turned.
Staring at the ground in front of him, Justin came around the corner of the building wearing a knee-length trench over jeans and a white T-shirt. His chin came up, and his eyes narrowed.
She started for him without thinking.
They came together on the sidewalk, her arms going around his neck at the same time he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was swift but sure.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi, yourself.”
He searched her face.
Her brows drew together. “Problem?”
“No. Just...” He shrugged.
Unease curled through her belly. She stepped a pace away.
Justin caught her hand. “I feel bad for nearly accosting you.” He raked his fingers through his hair and stared over her shoulder, refusing to meet her gaze. “I want you to know I’m a better man than that.”
“Hey.” She tipped her head to the side and grabbed his attention. “I’m perfectly capable of saying no.”
“Yeah, but—”
Laying her fingers across his lips, she shook her head. “No.”
“What I meant was—”
“No.” She pulled her hand away. “See? I told you I’m good at saying it.”
He arched a brow and his lips twitched.
“I mean it, Justin. Short of a brief but intimate introduction to my tonsils and your insider knowledge of my grades in Psych 410, 510 and 525, we’re strangers. You’ll have to trust I know myself well enough to ask for what I need.” Closing the distance between them, she placed one hand over his heart and ran the other around his neck. With soft pressure, she pulled him close. “And what I want is you.” She laid her lips over his in a tender kiss.
He responded with unerring skill, moving over her lips to her jaw and laying small kisses all the way to her ear. “Might I interest you in grabbing some dinner?”
Her heart lodged in her throat at the question. The most she could manage was a small shake of her head. The hitch in his breath made her curl her fingers into the short wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ve already eaten.”
“I’m starving.”
Desire wove through those two simple words, and she understood it wasn’t just food he craved. She leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she reveled in his strength as he pulled her even closer. The scent of laundry detergent from his clothes mingled with his cologne to give him a clean, masculine smell she loved.
He rested his chin atop her head and stroked her back in an achingly tender gesture. “I’d like to grab something to eat. I want to do this right. We can decide where to go from there, okay?”
“What sounds good to you?”
“I need protein and carbs. Dancing burns me out.” He pulled away and, cupping her jaw, tipped her face up to his. “You did really well on stage.”
“Thanks. So did you.”
His head fell back as he laughed. Settling, he grinned down at her. “You didn’t tip me.”
“Maybe I’m holding out for a private performance.”
Blue eyes darkened with desire. “I bet we can arrange something after I eat.”
Grace traced the planes of his chest through the soft cotton of his shirt, thinking. She could play this any number of ways. Games weren’t her style, though. Direct communication was much more in line with her preferences. So...taking a deep breath, she met his gaze head on. “I suppose there’s dinner or...breakfast.”
Justin’s heart tripped beneath her palm before it began to hammer against his rib cage. His lips parted, but he said nothing.
“Or we could—”
“Breakfast is perfect.” Lacing their fingers together, he lifted their joined hands to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “Did you drive tonight?”
“I actually rode with friends.” She pulled free and began to dig in her purse, determined to find Meg’s cell phone. “I can call a cab.”
Justin was quiet before saying, “I’ve got a car in paid parking.”
Something in his voice made her look up. “Are you sure?”
His smile was a little too bright. “I’m pretty sure that’s where it is.”
She searched his face but that smile never wavered. “Okay.”
He draped an arm over her shoulders and started across the street. Halfway there, his steps faltered briefly. Dropping his arm, he started walking toward the parking garage again. “Sixth floor unfortunately. It was crowded tonight.”
The urge to poke at him a little, to figure out why the mention of the car had irritated him, almost overwhelmed her. Instead, she followed him to the elevator.
The minute the doors started to slide shut, he rounded on her. “For the record? Just because I’m slowing this down a little doesn’t mean I’m not desperate for you. We clear?”
She dropped her purse and took an involuntary step back as he closed in, wove his hands through her hair and descended on her mouth with obvious intent. All she could do was grip his jacket and hold on.
Justin owned her mouth, his tongue delving inside hers with breath-stealing eroticism. He tasted of spearmint mouthwash. He felt like the embodiment of temptation. He feasted on her, a man starving for her and only her. It was too much and not enough.
She gasped and arched into his hand when he cupped her breast and stroked a thumb over one aching nipple. Then he grabbed her ass and pulled her into his erection. His arousal was contagious. She was tinder to his flame and her body went up in a flash of female heat. A desperate moan escaped her tenuous control.
He swallowed the sound.
Their harsh breathing and sharp gasps filled her ears.
The elevator slid to a stop.
Justin lifted his head to wordlessly stare down at her.
The