Passing His Guard

Despite his wish otherwise, Aiden’s attraction to this woman was fucking with his good judgment. If he had a brain in his head, he’d bail on Rya

“Really?” she asked, doubt and suspicion lacing her voice. “You’ll come with me? Just like that?”

This woman wasn’t dumb. Then again, he already knew that. Single-handedly, she’d managed to accomplish what two grown men twice her size had failed to do. If he wasn’t so pissed at her, he’d have to admit his grudging respect.

“What can I say? You give a convincing argument.” He wiggled his fingers at her, prompting her to remove the cuffs.

After another moment of hesitation, she exhaled a sigh of surrender and grabbed the co

He held his breath, biting back a pained groan, but a different groan entirely escaped his throat when her fingertips skated over his wrist. How such a simple touch could light him up with need was beyond him. But there was something about this woman that did it for him. Maybe it was her fiery spirit, maybe it was the memory of how good she felt in his arms, how delicious she tasted. Maybe it was that challenge of finding a woman who saw past his bullshit and wasn’t afraid to call him out on it. But whatever it was, Aiden wanted her—bad—and the idea of working Rya

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, struggling with the lock. “I can’t see the hole. Can you move closer this way?”

Her small hand gripped Aiden’s waist as she attempted to guide him closer to the light. Not a small feat, considering he filled over half the cab, leaving Rya

Exhaling a frustrated growl, he attempted to turn in the seat, knees wedging against the door as she fumbled with the lock. “Good thing you weren’t Houdini’s assistant,” he grouched, bending forward. He had his face in the dash, legs tangled, one shoulder pressed against the freezing window, arms twisted back—and a partridge in a pear tree.

She laughed, which did nothing to give credence to the sincerity of her apology. The airy, feminine sound lit up his nerve endings, sending every pounding pulse point straight into his groin. Despite the pain in his shoulder and throbbing of his crimped hard-on, he found himself desperately wanting to hear that laugh again, and he was willing to endure this sick version of Twister to get it.

“I’m almost there . . .”

Oh, good Lord . . .

“Can you just . . . ? Yeah, that’s it. A little higher . . .”

Aiden bit his bottom lip to hold back his tortured groan. Seriously, could she not hear herself speaking?

“Wow, you’re flexible . . .”

“I think that’s my line, sweetheart,” he murmured, unable to help himself. He chuckled at her startled gasp. “Oh, come on, you really didn’t think I was going to pass that up, did ya?”

“You’re an ass.”

But her insult was only half-hearted and just breathy enough to let him know he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. A moment later, the cuffs sprang free. “Thank God,” he grumbled, wincing as he brought his arms forward and began rubbing the circulation back into his wrists. “I’ll be right back.” Anxious to stretch his legs and put a little distance between him and his hot redheaded abductor, Aiden bailed out of the SUV and double-timed it into the station.

Rya

With eyes heavy-lidded from fatigue, Rya

Startled, she stepped backed, stumbling into a wall of muscle. “Shit, you scared me,” she said, pressing her hand over her thundering heart as she turned to face Aiden. Only, it wasn’t Aiden trapping her between his body and the cooler. The man standing over her was a few inches shorter but just as definably muscled. The tattoos sleeving his arms ran up the sides of his neck, disappearing into a beard that twined into matching braids hanging several inches from his chin. How was it possible that the ink Aiden wore could look so hot on his muscle-roped arms and so terrifying on this man? Perhaps it was the grim images of death trekking up his arms, or maybe the Welcome to hell sign collaring his throat. Not a great selling point there. If this guy was going for panty-dropping tats, this one was a swing and a miss. He had more piercings than she did—the bullring looping through his septum was especially lovely, but it was hard to beat that spike poking out of his bottom lip.

“Excuse me.” Rya

“Hey, baby, what’s the rush?” His arm shot out, blocking her retreat as he planted his palm on the glass door. “Don’t you want this?” Anarchy held up the Monster and waved it at her.

“Keep it.” She ducked beneath his arm, but the one holding the can caught her around the waist. He pulled back, jerking her against him.

“Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he purred next to her ear.

She cringed as his breath blasted her neck, the stale scent of cigarette smoke assaulting her nostrils. “Let me go,” she demanded with more bravado than she felt. Rya

The malevolent chuckle rumbling behind her sent a surge of bile coursing up her throat. He growled something, but she couldn’t hear it over the thundering of her heartbeat. Her panicked gaze darted around the convenience store, searching for someone, anyone, who might help her. Where was the clerk? Better yet, where was Aiden?