Undeniable Pleasures You Sexy Thing! Read online

  Memory of the incident even now caused her heart to beat harder and her palms to dampen. In that one moment she’d become all too aware that what she was facing was very real…and she’d finally agreed to the protective custody the Justice Department offered when they’d first asked her to testify.

  As the owner of three successful clubs in Denver, New York and San Francisco, it might be her job to create excitement; but strictly the kind that left people with a hangover the next morning…not in the morgue being measured for a pine box.

  Of course, being a people person meshed well with her club ownership. Unfortunately, the only people she saw lately were humorless, antisocial U.S. Marshals. She watched as the latest in the never-ending line of silent, alpha males made a tour through the two-bedroom town house apartment; she was waiting when he came back down the open, spiral staircase.

  “Is it clear?” she asked.

  She was impressed he hadn’t drawn his gun as he made the rounds. The Marshals did it every time.

  She sighed when he didn’t respond. “Great. Another ape without a sense of humor.”

  “Might help if you didn’t call them apes.”

  She cracked a smile, relief flooding her veins. Sure, she might act a little bitchy, but the truth was she horribly missed human interaction. “He speaks. Thank the Lord. Every other person they’ve sent over had zero personality, much less a sense of humor.”

  “Who said I had either?”

  “By comparison? I think you’ve just won the Mr. America contest.”

  She watched as his gaze swept over her barely clad body.

  Well…

  She was surprised by the flush of awareness that spread over her skin. While she was used to men appreciating her physical appearance, it had been two weeks since she’d enjoyed such open attention by an attractive male and her instant, nipple-hardening reaction was doubly intense than it otherwise might have been. That’s what happened when you were locked away in your apartment by a bunch of cyborgs assigned to keep you safe.

  That’s what happened when you hadn’t had sex in four months because the last guy you dated was a gunrunning criminal…

  And when the same guy had no problem with the idea of not only seeing you dead, but being the power behind the trigger.

  She shivered as the agent finished his perusal following a lingering look at her breasts and then met her gaze. “Aw, and we didn’t even get to the swimsuit competition.”

  She gestured with her hand. “Be my guest.”

  His chuckle made the small hairs on her lower belly stand up in a delicious wave. He crossed to her and held out his hand. “Jason Savage.”

  She took her time shaking the warm limb, marveling at his long, thick fingers. “Jordan Cosby.”

  He withdrew his hand. “Did I, um, interrupt something?”

  “A little late for that question, isn’t it?”

  He had a grin as naughty as sin and twice as delectable. “I’m guessing shower.”

  “I’m guessing you’re right.”

  “Feel free to return.”

  She wondered if it was too soon to ask a man she’d just met if he’d like to join her.

  “You mind?” He walked toward the kitchen.

  Jordan squinted, and then followed in his wake. “Do I mind what?”

  He stepped to the counter where she’d made coffee a little while earlier, trying to maintain her regular hours which included not getting up before noon and massive amounts of caffeine in whatever form she could lay her hands on, beginning with—but certainly not limited to—coffee.

  He took out the carafe, sniffed the contents and then checked the cupboards until he found a cup. He held it up to her to indicate that’s what he’d been asking about.

  “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter if I mind then, does it?” she asked with a smile.

  He poured himself a cup and then gave a mock toast before taking a sip. “How do you know Linc?”

  “He handles security for one of my clubs.”

  He raised a brow. “Oh?”

  Most people she met had the same reaction to her being a club owner. She wasn’t entirely clear why, but to her the career step had been a natural one. She’d been taking double majors in business and finance at NYU when she met and fell in lust with Danny Leary. Their affair hadn’t lasted long, but their friendship had. She hadn’t blinked when he proposed they go into business together. And so was born Bridges NYC, her first club.

  Friendships had played a large role in the opening of Bridges San Francisco and Bridges Denver, as well. And as such, she understood when to take part…and when to butt out and let her friends and managers see to things. Although she did like brainstorming events and bringing in national acts. And she thoroughly enjoyed partying at each of them.

  She’d moved to Denver to help oversee the launch of the club a year ago along with manager and old friend Montana Sky. And at this point, didn’t feel the desire to move on, finding a nice synchronicity to the city’s groove that suited her.

  “Mmm.” She considered asking Jason to pour her a cup of coffee, too, but instead opened the refrigerator and reached for the milk, knowing full well as she did so that the hem of the shirt rode up, baring a healthy stretch of thigh. Enough to reveal she wore no panties. She closed the door and turned to smile at him…only to find he’d left the room.

  Jordan made a face. Well, that didn’t happen to her often enough for her to get used to.

  She fixed herself a half a cup of coffee, put the milk back away and padded back into the living room where she found him standing before the wall of windows overlooking the busy street. He’d pulled back the curtains just enough to see out; curtains the other guards had insisted she keep closed.

  She sipped her coffee and openly appreciated his form. His back was as hot as his front, with an ass made of granite and shoulders as wide as the doorway. His hair brushed the back of his collar and was in need of a cut. And what was it about men strapped with guns that always gave her a thrill?

  Of course, it would be a good idea to remember the reason she’d ended up an inmate in her own life to begin with.

  Savage didn’t look in a hurry to go anywhere as he drank his coffee. Which was just fine with her. He could prove just the distraction this girl needed…

  She only hoped that he didn’t have any friends on the Top Ten F.B.I.’s Most Wanted List. Or that he wouldn’t be having any conversations with them in her presence that she might be called to testify against…

  WITHIN FIVE MINUTES, Jason noted ten holes in security.

  He also sized up and dismissed the subject in need of it. He grimaced. Okay, he was trying to.

  Jordan Cosby was a beautiful woman who knew how to use her sexuality to gain an advantage over the opposite sex. She was also a lady of means if her frou-frou apartment was anything to go by. He stared at an oversize, custom-made white leather couch the size of a bus, and guessed it was.

  He’d certainly come across his fair share of women like her. And he’d slept with most of them. But considering the Middle-Eastern-size mess casual sex had placed him smack dab in the middle of, he wasn’t going to have anything sexual to do with the likes of Jordan Cosby.

  He glanced at where she was bent over a desk that served as a barrier between the open living and dining area, her back to him, the shirt riding up to reveal the tiniest, tantalizing peek of a perfectly shaped ass. He swallowed hard. Why did he have the feeling she wasn’t going to make this easy for him?

  “What are your plans for the day?” he asked, turning his attention back toward the window.

  He heard the shuffling of papers. “The same as yesterday—nothing, nada, oh, and a whole lot of zilch.”

  “Good.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  “For you, too. Means you’re safe.”

  “It means I’m about ready to jump out of my skin and through that window.”

  He saw her reflection in the window in question…and got the d
istinct impression she knew he was watching her, given her catlike smile. She’d turned back toward him and lifted herself to sit on the desk, her long, bare legs dangling over the side. She’d only done a few of the buttons on the shirt she wore so the inside curve of her breasts was clearly visible through the gaping material.

  He rotated to face her, brow raised, challenging her to take it as far as she dared.

  “Or…” she said in a low purr. “I could just jump out of this shirt and see what other ways we might occupy our time…”

  She slowly uncrossed her legs.

  Jason ordered himself not to look. Not to verify his suspicion that she wore no underwear.

  Oh, boy…

  Curiosity got the better of him and he dropped his gaze. The shirt blocked his view.

  He told himself he was glad.

  “Where are you going?” she asked when he headed back toward the kitchen.

  “To make a few calls. In the meantime, I’d suggest you get out of that shirt…and put some clothes on. Because I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  He ignored her question as he closed the kitchen door behind him. He stopped and stood stock-still, trying to regain his bearings.

  Why did he have the feeling this was a test?

  More importantly, why did he have the feeling this was a test he was destined to fail?

  3

  ALTHOUGH SHE DIDN’T like it, Jordan did get dressed in a simple pair of black yoga pants and white tank top, and spent the next few hours on her laptop orchestrating club business. She didn’t realize dusk was falling until the desktop lamp was the only light in the room. She looked around but didn’t see Savage anywhere. In fact, she’d seen very little of him since he’d ordered her to get dressed. She knew he was still there somewhere, because every now and again he came into the room, checked the door and the windows…and then disappeared again.

  The apartment wasn’t that big, for God’s sake.

  Of course, if she really wanted to find him…

  “Hello. Laptop to Jordan. Are you still there?”

  She blinked at her screen and the live camera feed of Otto Fitch, the manager of Bridges San Francisco. She shifted in the chair she’d been sitting in for so long her ass had gone numb. The only saving grace of her predicament was her ability to keep in contact with others and on top of business via modern technology. In fact, two weeks into her isolation, she was probably beginning to wear on the nerves of the people she normally spoke to maybe once, twice a week at most. Now she was calling, texting and live-chatting with them several times a day. She was beginning to feel like a pest. But if she didn’t do something, she would go absolutely bonkers in no time flat.

  She caught herself scratching her arm and stopped, rubbing the raw skin instead, even as she looked around for the ghost that currently inhabited her apartment. She’d heard stories about Linc Williams’s shadowy background. Hints at black ops and the F.B.I. and other business of a nefarious nature. And it looked like Jason Savage was cut from the same cloth. But that was the club hotline for you: she’d learned a long time ago the gossip about someone was usually much more interesting than the person in question.

  She grimaced. Well, by and large that was the case. She’d believed the rumors circulating about Rick Packard had to be more hype than truth. She’d found out the hard way that wasn’t the case.

  Still, business was business, and his business had been none of her business.

  Unfortunately the judge and the judicial system didn’t share her viewpoint.

  Essentially they had photographic proof she’d been present at two meetings Rick had with another notorious underworld figure, who appeared to be the true target of their investigation. And while she hadn’t participated or even overheard either conversation, she had been asked to leave the table so they could discuss ‘business’ and then asked to return an hour later. Her own attorney was convinced the Justice Department was using her as a pawn to get Rick to turn on his ‘business’ partner, offer up testimony to put the bigger fish behind bars and save his own hide. And since he couldn’t be sure what all she’d heard, or what testimony she might offer up…well, Rich had decided to go with Plan B instead.

  Namely, to do away with her and any information she might have.

  She shivered at the thought that her life was worth so little to another human, especially one she’d dated.

  The truth was, she didn’t have anything. Which left her feeling all the more vulnerable. A sensation she wasn’t familiar with…and wasn’t happy to become acquainted with now.

  So what was the truth about Jason Savage?

  Otto’s dramatic sigh caught her attention. She blinked him back into focus and finally answered his question: “You can see I’m still here.”

  “No, honey, I can see you, but I’m not seeing you. Where’s your head at?”

  There was movement behind her as Savage came into the room from the kitchen and went to stand in his favorite spot in front of the windows. Her every cell went immediately on alert and she sat up a little straighter, which made her grimace harder.

  “Donny Darko’s holding me hostage,” she muttered, half to herself.

  Otto must have heard her because he said, “Ooh! I hope leather and hot oil is involved.”

  “I wish.”

  “Well, tell me he’s hot, at least.”

  Jordan twisted her lips and then shifted the laptop until Jason Savage was caught in the camera shot. She pressed the zoom button until he stood in stark, handsome relief. One stroke of a key and Otto disappeared from view and Jason Savage filled the screen.

  “Oh, honey, if his front is as yummy as his back… Tell him to turn around.”

  Jason must have heard Otto because he looked over his shoulder, seeming to stare straight at the camera. She pressed another key and captured the shot.

  “Ohmygawd, girl, if you don’t have the leather and oil, I’ll send it to you. Express!” Otto said.

  Jordan repositioned the laptop and refreshed the settings so she was once again chatting with Otto. She watched as the thirty-year-old Rutger Hauer look-alike leaned closer to his camera. “Pssst…if you don’t want him, send him my way.”

  Jordan gave a wry smile, recalling the way Jason’s face had darkened earlier as he watched her stretch suggestively on the desk. “Sorry, babe, but I don’t think he swings your way.”

  Otto sighed. “Shame. He and I could have had fun together. A lot of fun.”

  Movement. She glanced over her shoulder to find Jason heading back toward the kitchen. The door closed a moment later.

  “Please, please, please tell me you plan on putting your hands on that fine ass. At least once. For me. Please.”

  She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “He doesn’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “Darlin’, with that man I’d make his pleasure my business.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know if I want to work that hard.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re the hardest working person I know. You’re all about the job.”

  “Not when it comes to men.”

  Otto grinned at her. “Yes, well, maybe it’s about time you put in a little elbow grease, girl. It ain’t worth nothing if you don’t have to work for it.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she repeated his earlier words to him. “Are you forgetting the small fact that my last relationship got me into the trouble I’m in now?”

  “Honey, that wasn’t a relationship…it was sex.”

  “Yes, well, that doubly proves my point.”

  “But he might be The One,” Otto said.

  “The one, what?”

  He stared at her.

  “And you base this on a three-second glimpse of his ass?”

  He stuck his tongue out at her.

  She laughed. “Come on, Otto, you know I don’t buy into all that fairy-tale crap. That’s the cock-and-bull story they try to sell to littl
e girls before they even make it out of the womb.”

  Jordan winced, wishing she hadn’t said that. Not because it wasn’t accurate. To the contrary, it was a little too close to the truth.

  “Besides,” she continued, before he could catch on to her hesitation, something he was amazingly adept at, and what had solidified an instant camaraderie when she’d interviewed him for the job over a year ago. “If I remember correctly, I think you’re on your fifth One.”

  He sighed again, albeit this time for a different reason, she’d wager. “I’ve decided they were just practice. I’m still looking.”

  “Pierce and you are done already?”

  “Ancient history, sweetie. We broke up last night.”

  Jordan leaned closer to the laptop. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged like it was of no concern to him, but she knew better. “Bygones. We weren’t a good fit. We both knew it. He was 100-hundred thread count and I’m 1,000.”

  “Makes for a rough night’s sleep.”

  “You ain’t kidding. Still, I’m hopeful. I made eye contact with a handsome one at the open market today. I’m going back tomorrow to see if I can’t catch his attention again. Speaking of getting someone’s attention, you still have that little red number I bought you last Christmas…?”

  She laughed. “You know, you’re hopeless.”

  “Hopeless romantic, maybe.”

  “You say tomato…”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Anyway, enough of my sex life, or lack thereof. Let’s get back to these numbers…”

  She was glad he immediately returned to the business at hand, even as she considered his words…

  THE WOMAN WAS PUT ON this earth solely to drive him mad, Jason was convinced.

  Eighteen hours on the job, and he had the sinking sensation he’d never make it to twenty-four without taking what Jordan Cosby so temptingly offered.

  He sat back in the chair and recrossed his legs at the ankles on the ottoman, fully dressed and fully alert. He’d made the rounds ten minutes ago and would make them again in another five. He illuminated the screen of his cell phone. It was just past 4:00 a.m. In three hours, Lazarus agent Dominic Falzone would come to relieve him so he could catch a few hours sleep. Not because he was tired, but because to stay at the top of his game, he needed to.