Passing His Guard

Four tequila shooters later, Aiden was starting to rethink his decision to bag this babe. He’d met women who could talk, but holy fuck, this one would not shut up. Seriously, he was starting to get a headache. This woman was killing his buzz. “You want to go upstairs?” he interrupted.

She gave him a knowing smile full of promise. “Sure. Just let me grab one more drink first. I’ll get you another shot.”

Normally, he would have objected to a woman buying him booze, but considering the fine line of sobriety he was walking, another shot was definitely in order. She slipped from her chair before he could offer to go, leaning forward to give him a perfect titty shot.

“Be right back,” she promised, planting a wet kiss on his cheek before heading to the bar. She smelled of coconut ta

Redirecting his thoughts that seemed to have taken on a will of their own, he watched Mandy go, appreciating the sway of her gently flared hips and the rounded curve of her skirt-hugging ass as she weaved through the crowd. Once she disappeared, he turned his attention back to his beer and downed it before retrieving his phone and checking his messages. He had an itinerary alert, notifying him that his flight was leaving an hour early due to an impending snowstorm they were trying to avoid.

Shit. Aiden checked his watch. It was almost one. He shot an antsy glance toward the bar, but couldn’t see Mandy through all the people. Returning his attention to his phone, he was verifying his flight details when a flash of red hair caught his peripherals and Mandy sat back down, sliding another shot of tequila his direction. “If we’re going to do this, baby girl, we gotta go. My flight’s been rescheduled.”

“Wow, that’s a shame.”

The familiar voice held a feminine huskiness that put Aiden’s cock on notice. His head snapped up and he locked eyes with the redhead sitting across from him—not Mandy. No fucking way . . . His initial surprise and—goddammit—pleasure at seeing Rya

Masking his surprise, his brows drew tight and he arrowed her with a glare that had cowed many a man in the cage, but not his gutsy little PI. She arched an unimpressed brow, looking dutifully bored, and took a sip of her drink before fishing the speared olive from her martini glass. With her stare locked on him, a triumphant gleam shining in those mischievous emerald eyes, she trapped the green ball between her teeth and smiled. Pulling the toothpick free, she closed those lush lips around it and bit down.

A tortured groan unfurled deep in his chest that ended in a snarled growl when his cock shot hard as granite. The rush of blood heading south made his head feel light, or perhaps the tequila was finally catching up with him.

“Where’s Mandy?” There were oh so many other things he wanted to say to this woman right now, none of which were fitting for the public ear.

“Oh, her?” Rya

“Why not?” Suspicion threaded his husky voice made raw from four tequila shots, soon to be five. He lifted the small glass to his lips and tipped his head back, swallowing the booze in one searing gulp.

The hot amber burn was on its way down his throat when she casually replied, “I told her you had crabs.”

Aiden inhaled, choking on the fire searing a path into his lungs and sending him into a coughing fit. Mother. Fuck. “You did what?” he wheezed.

The corner of Rya

“I. Told. Her. You. Had. Crabs.” she repeated slowly, enunciating each word more clearly than the last.

Like he really needed to hear her say it twice. “That shit’s not fu

“It’s fu

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.

“I think you know why I’m here.” Growing serious, she set the beer chaser on the table and slid it toward him.

“How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t very hard. I am a private investigator—kind of my job to find people. Oh, by the way, Del Toro said to tell you that’s for his broken rib.” She shrugged as if the message meant nothing to her, though he knew damn well that wasn’t true.

Fuck. Me. He grabbed the chaser and slammed it down. “So what are you going to do, baby girl?—cock-block me until I leave with you? Cuz I can tell you right now, I’m not going back to Manhattan. I don’t give a shit what you say or what you do, it ain’t happening.”

“I just want you to listen to me, Aiden. Hear me out.” She shot a quick glance at her watch before locking gazes with him, and if they weren’t the most entrancing green eyes he’d ever seen. “Your parents are worried about you.”

His harsh bark of laughter drew the attention of the people sitting at the tables nearby, but at this point, he didn’t give a shit if he was making a scene. His buzz was burning through his veins like liquid fire making him reckless and edgy. “Is that what my mother told you? That she was worried about me? Because that’s a big-ass lie. She might be worried all right, but I guarantee you, it ain’t about me.”

Rya

Exhaling a frustrated sigh, she tried again. “Look, Aiden, you can’t keep ru

“That you can sit there with a straight face and ask me that tells me you have no clue who you’re dealing with.” Another wave of dizziness crashed over him and he grabbed the corner of the table to steady himself.

“Are you all right?” Rya

At her slightest touch, heat rushed up his arm, sending his pulse hammering inside his chest. That his cock didn’t seem to notice should have been his first clue something was seriously wrong here. He never got whiskey dick—ever.

“I’m fine,” he growled, ripping his hand out from under hers.

“How much have you had to drink?” Concern tightened her brows in the most gorgeous frown. Damn, she was beautiful . . .

“Obviously too much,” he grumbled. Even to his own ears, his words sounded slurred. He needed to get to bed. Sleep this shit off and forget he’d ever met this beguiling redhead. Aiden shoved back his seat and tried to stand, but the lead weight in his ass kept him grounded, sending him listing to the side. Holy shit, this tequila was really nailing him. The room was spi

“Aiden!” Rya

“Don’t want your help,” he slurred, but contrary to his words, his arm came around her, holding her tight against him. Holy hell, he felt like he’d spent the last half hour on a Tilt-a-Whirl.