“One visit will be enough to face down the problem,” he said. “No one will touch you after that.”
Face down the problem. Just like Jackie had said. Walking into a motorcycle club after all these years would take her one step closer to dealing with her past. She could get her pictures, close the case, get rid of the tattoo that marked her as Wolverine property using the most expensive and effective technique available, and never see James or the bikers again. She just needed a little courage.
“I do want to go,” she said. “But yeah, I’m afraid. Hades doesn’t have a reputation for being all warm and fuzzy.”
“Trust me.” The confidence and conviction in his voice wrapped around her like a warm, thick blanket. She studied the firm set of his jaw and his steady blue eyes, dark now like an ocean storm. Something sparked inside her. Maybe hope. Maybe desire. Maybe both. At this point, she had more to gain than to lose by trusting him. He couldn’t hurt her any worse than he already had.
“I don’t trust you.” Her voice shook despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “But I do think you’ll keep me safe and that’s enough for me to deal with…get through the door. You are a cop, after all. Protecting people is your job.”
“Let’s get you changed then.” His gruff voice betrayed strong emotion, but whatever he was feeling he kept hidden.
With a resigned sigh, Lana made her way to the bedroom. James followed behind her and settled himself on the bed.
She lifted an eyebrow. “You planning to have a nap?”
James winked and lay back on her pillows. “Thought I’d watch.”
Playful again. How could he so blithely bounce on her bed after she’d just rejected his kiss and told him she didn’t trust him? What happened to Mr. Sullen and Serious? How could he turn it on and off so quickly?
“You’re suddenly in a cheery mood,” she grumbled.
“You’re going to be taking off your clothes. Nothing cheers a man up more than a naked woman.” He crossed his arms behind his head and his T-shirt rose to expose the ripples of his six-pack covered in the faintest shadow of soft, dusky hair. She followed the trail to his belt and then tore her eyes away.
Don’t go there.
An image crept into her mind. James, naked, stretched out just like that on her bed, watching her strip to Danzig’s “She Rides”, his eyes burning into her until she thought she might combust. When she had finished her routine, she crawled over his body intending to settle herself exactly where she wanted to be. But before she reached her destination, he flipped her over and pinned her hands to the bed. It was the first time he had restrained her. It was the hottest sex she’d ever had. And it had just gotten better and better.
But this was life, not sex. Although her body craved him with a soul-deep ache, she had work to do and a heart to protect. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away.
“Babe,” he said softly, “what are you thinking? You keep looking at me like that and I’ll get ideas that’ll make us late.”
Liquid lust shot through her veins but she reined it in. “I’m thinking about how I’m going to change in the bathroom, so there’s nothing for you to see except me pulling clothes out of the closet.”
“There’s a hell of a lot for me to see.” His voice dropped to a rough growl.
Lana closed her eyes and tried to calm the dancing butterflies in her stomach. “James Hunter, are you looking at my ass?”
“You’ve still got the finest ass I’ve ever seen.”
She snatched a dress off a hanger and spun around, her lips quivering with a repressed smile. “You’re still cocky as hell.” She stomped into the bathroom and closed the door.
“And you’re still sexy as fuck,” he yelled.
“Don’t use that biker mouth on me.” Damn. Did she just say that? Maybe he wouldn’t catch the unintended innuendo. His mouth had taken her to places she’d never realized existed.
She splashed cold water on her face and took a few deep breaths. If she didn’t get a grip, she would never be able to spend an entire afternoon with him without trying to rip off his clothes.
“Babe, I know your dark side. You like it when I swear.”
Fire spread through her limbs. He didn’t just know her dark side; he had teased it out of her and fed it with his own corresponding needs.
“I’m older now. More mature.” She tugged on a high-collar, no-skin-revealing, stretch, leopard-print minidress. A muss of the hair. A heavy hand with the makeup. Fug boots. All ready for a biker barbeque. She hoped they were into thrash.