Ripper(45)
“Why?”
“He’s a fertility god, so believe me when I say he has a way with women. He runs a club downtown. Everyone in the supernatural world goes there.”
“If you don’t think he’s involved in the murders, why bother with him?” I reached for another pancake. Luckily Gray seemed to have made enough for a small army.
“I think that club of his gets us access to information. It’s kind of the hub of that particular world,” the Ranger said seriously. “There’s only one problem. I can’t get in.”
“Because you’re law enforcement?”
“That and I might have tried raiding the club about a year ago,” Gray explained with a sigh. “I also might have actually arrested the asshole before I had concrete evidence on him. He pushed me to it. Dev Quinn is such a prick. He has a mouth on him that would make a saint crazy. I have no idea how he’s still alive. Someone should have shot him for mouthing off a long time ago.”
I kept my amusement to myself since this seemed to be a serious subject for Gray. I was kind of interested in meeting anyone who made Gray that crazy. “So he’s banned you from the club.”
“Yes, he has.” Gray’s expression turned ruthless. He obviously had a plan. “But there’s a party there tonight. If you have an invite you don’t have to stand in line.”
It was a good plan and I could only think of one small flaw. “And we’re getting invited how?”
Gray’s kissable lips turned up in a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat. “Well, this is where you come in.”
* * * *
Gray walked out of the shower and I admired the work that must have gone into that chest. I had something to tell him, but I just sort of stared and maybe drooled a little. The cell phone in my hand hung limply at my side as I ogled him. He was one rock-hard slab of man.
He wore a towel wrapped low on his hips. The stark white contrasted the tan of his skin and nothing else. His shoulders seemed even broader without the trappings of clothes and it got better from there. Gray had a six-pack and he was cut all over. The water clung to his skin, defining the muscles of his body. A large tattoo covered the left side of his chest. At the center lay an elaborate dragon surrounded by what appeared to be flames and odd-looking symbols. It was strangely beautiful and I had to force my eyes away from it. He had a smaller towel over his head as he strode out of the bathroom and he was rubbing his hair dry when he finally noticed me enjoying the show.
A slow smile curled over his sensual mouth. “I guess I can’t complain. Turnabout is fair play, darlin’.”
He’d seen me in nothing but a towel, though I seriously doubted I was as impressive a specimen as he was. I was aware of how alone we were and how close we were to that big bed we’d slept in last night. It wouldn’t take much to let my hands find his tapered waist and pull the towel off. I could push him down on the bed and do what I’d wanted to do from the moment I’d seen his blue eyes. I could strip down and it wouldn’t take long before I was ready to ride him. So why wasn’t I doing that? Why was I standing there, breathless and the tiniest bit afraid? When did I get to be so damn shy?
“Liv says okay.” I blurted out what I’d come in here to tell him in the first place.
Gray gave his head one last rub and then tossed the smaller towel back into the bathroom. “She’s got the invite?”
I nodded, wishing it were that easy for me to do my hair. Two minutes of rubbing and Gray’s hair was dry. I had to dry my hair for an hour or it frizzed, which was why I usually walked around with frizzy hair. The only reason I didn’t cut it was because I worried it was the only thing about me that was pretty and feminine. It was really lovely when I paid it proper attention. Now it was in its normal ponytail. I felt plain next to Gray’s god-like attractiveness.
“Yeah. She was invited. Apparently this person is in her coven. It’s her birthday so they have some sort of VIP room reserved. Liv said it would be easy to get you in because the invite is for her and Scott, but it’s ninety-nine cent wing night at Kirby’s Hot Wings so he can’t go.”
That caught Gray off guard. “Seriously? His girlfriend’s got a big party to go to and he’s going to sit in a bar and eat hot wings?”
I nodded. “It’s his way. I’m sure Alan will be sitting beside him, drinking cheap beer and commenting on the waitress’s ass. Alan’s a shifter and his best friend. I think secretly they’re in love, but afraid of deciding who gets to pitch and who gets to catch.”
Gray’s hands were on his lean hips as he radiated outrage. “You should know that won’t be happening with us. I’m sure as hell not about to let my woman waltz off to some fancy party looking hot as hell while I stare at some eighteen-year-old’s ass. If you’re going to a party where a bunch of men are going to be drooling all over you, I’ll be beside you ready to kick the ass of the first one who does more than look.”