Bad Cop Page 20

  Piper thanked him, slowing her roll as she stood and surveyed all The Charlie Horse offered. The dark wood bar with its shiny brass trimmings ran the length of the room to her right, and tall tables ran down the wall to her left. In front of her was a carved-wood railing open to the sunken floor below. A boisterous crowd filled it completely. Beyond it was an ancient stone wall with two separate archways leading to the dance floor and the band, which had already started to play.

  And in the center of it all stood Vance Evans, even more striking then he’d been five years earlier.

  Piper mentally licked her lips at the notable changes. Five years ago, the man had been gorgeous by all accounts. But tonight he was a full-grown male—all sexy and hard bodied—with no boyish features left over from his youth. His dark hair was styled back from his forehead and his facial features were hard and angular. No hint of lankiness remained from his baseball days. His body now owned every inch of his height. His clothes were current and expensive, and he wore them well. He had a short glass in his hand and stared at her over the edge of it as he took a slow sip of the amber liquid. She felt the intensity of emotion radiating from his eyes. Like a sleek and agile black panther, Vance Evans had just found his prey.

  Her body responded with a groundswell of desire, the fallout drifting like spent fireworks all the way to her toes. She turned her attention to the bartender named Sonny, walking toward him and gifting him with the same smile she’d given the bouncer.

  “Miss Beaumont,” Sonny said in greeting.

  It’d been a long time since anyone had called her “Miss” Beaumont, and it had a noticeably softer and less edgy feel to it than Ms. did. The way he’d said it—the way it felt—it was like coming home. She fluttered her lids and smiled. “Hello, Sonny.”

  “The gentleman who ordered this sounded overly confident you’d know who it was from,” Sonny said, placing the pretty little tulip glass in front of her.

  She smiled, delighted with the yellow liquor and the sugared pansy attached to the rim. She had to stop herself from taking a picture.

  “The gentleman was born overly confident,” she said. “And I’m quite sure you and I are standing in his natural habitat.”

  Sonny winked as she saluted him with the miniature stemware. She took it and maneuvered along the bar to the set of stairs, stepping down into the capacity crowd to make her way toward Vance.

  And just like before, he watched her come.

  Confident is an understatement. He had no idea who I was five years ago, yet even then he knew I was coming for him.

  Piper had to admit. That cocky part of Vance? It turned her on. And she’d be foolish to deny it. Inserting himself into her date with cute-boy Danny last Saturday—hot. Whisking her off and kissing her own will out from under her—doubly hot. Just thinking about it got her motor running. She emerged in front of Vance turned on and eager for whatever was going to play out. She basked in his easy, seductive smile, just like she had five years ago. And just like before, he looked down at her, smug and curious, and said, “Hello.”

  Holy God.

  It was a sexy hello, full bodied, deep voiced, with an edge of eagerness, and it slid over her skin leaving tingles in its wake.

  Feeling a slight bit of vertigo, she licked her lips as she looked up into his emerald eyes and smiled. “Hi.”

  He leaned down and spoke close to her left ear. “I’ve been standing here a long time waiting to taste that shot.”

  She offered him the first sip.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Her brow furrowed.

  He leaned in that much closer. “Baby doll, I have seen you in action, so I am not buying the sweet and innocent thing.”

  Piper grabbed his shirt and stood on her tiptoes, putting her nose right up against his neck.

  Lord, he smells good.

  Opening eyes she wasn’t aware she’d closed, she played the game. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” she said, exaggerating her southern accent on purpose, but noticing that her words were a little shaky—just like she was feeling. So she punctuated them with a flick of her tongue against his neck.

  “Drink the fucking shot,” he growled.

  She smiled against his neck. Mr. Smooth had his limits, she thought, wondering just how far she could push him. Slowly releasing her hold on his shirt, she backed up just a tad. Turning her head to the right, she raised the tiny glass and took a tentative sip. The liquor was smooth with a bite, lemony and powerful. She upended the glass and swallowed the rest.

  Immediately, she felt his fingers dance along the back of her scalp, turning her face toward him. Her mouth came under assault as Vance’s tongue plunged in and stroked her own. He slanted his mouth more fully and pressed the arm that held his glass against her back, pulling her around and square against him. Her mind reeled back five years, thinking that it was no wonder she got caught if this was how it had been between them—standing in the middle of The Charlie Horse in the center of Raleigh on a big night out. But she didn’t have to worry about that now. In the back of her mind, she considered how ironic it was that she hadn’t for a moment thought of her fiancé the last time. Yet, the ramifications that had followed were so dire, she thought of him now.

  She pushed against Vance’s chest to break the kiss.

  When he quirked his brow, she looked him square in the eye. “I’ve a confession to make.”

  “I’m not your priest.” He moved in for another kiss.

  “It’s about Cinco de Mayo,” she said against his lips. “Five years ago.”

  “Baby doll,” he whispered, kissing her lips, her cheek, her lips again. “The only thing that matters is what is happening now.”

  He was right. She’d been living in the past. But ooh, she was moving forward tonight, she thought as his tongue took a leisurely swipe along the tip of hers. Tonight she was laying down all the guilt and shame and indulging once again in her wildest fantasy—Vance Evans. “Just don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  “What?” he said, leaning his ear toward her mouth.

  She captured his earlobe lightly between her teeth and scraped his flesh as she pulled her mouth down and off. If he ran away this time, she’d know where to find him. “My name is Piper Beaumont,” she said with her lips pressed up against his mouth. “And I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

  That caused him to growl and pull her hard against him, her nipples smashing against his chest, his hard-on blatant against her abdomen. “Jesus,” he said. “I need to get you on the dance floor.” She took his hand and led their way through the crowd, heat spreading up through her neck and face, down through her chest and core. Her little clutch was taken from her hand. When she looked back, she saw Vance hand it off to someone behind him.

  “Pinks,” he offered. “I brought The Ninja for protection.”

  “Protection?”

  “In case Officer Stevenson took the night off.”

  She nodded, hoping like hell Officer Stevenson was nowhere around. Same for anyone else she knew in her lawyer persona. She’d left angry and frustrated Ms. Beaumont at home and brought Naughty Piper along for the ride. But the thought of Naughty Piper in public again brought out a bit of panic.

  She whirled around and pressed a hand against Vance’s chest to stop his advance. But he kept on coming, pushing her backward into the darkness, into the noise, and into the middle of the wild crowd that made up the back room of The Charlie Horse. They blended into the action as she took stock of what was happening around her. Nobody paying too much attention, everybody worried about their own good time. Fine then. She’d do likewise.

  She pulled Vance to her, eager to get lost in his lips and out of her thought pattern. He accommodated by wrapping both arms around her and meeting her demanding mouth with his own. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t calculated, he wasn’t coaxing a damn thing. He was taking.

  Lust consumed her. The more she gave, the more Vance demanded. She upped their ga
me, and he’d raise it again. On the dance floor. Surrounded by…everybody. Suddenly, an icy beer was shoved between them, causing them to suck in their breaths and break apart.

  Pinks stood beside them, two long-neck bottles dripping with condensation in his hands. “You two are not alone,” he said. “Now let’s get a little space in here,” he chided. “A little something to cool you two teenagers down. For God’s sake, act your age will you? Not like you’re a couple of virgins at the senior prom.”

  “What?” Piper looked at Vance, shocked. “You’re not a virgin?”

  “Cute,” he said with a grimace, taking the beer from Pinks.

  “Thanks,” Piper told Pinks. “I owe you,” she said, lifting the beer out of his hands.

  “The band is good,” Pinks said with a toss of his head toward the stage. A slower, gentler-paced song started to play. “Enjoy it. Dance. It’s early yet. You’ve got all night.”

  “Okay, Mr. Nice, Safe, and Boring,” Vance said. “Back the fuck off or I’m calling in The Outlaw and tossing your ass off duty.”

  “And that’s going to hurt my feelings how?” Pinks said, stepping back and getting lost in the crowd.

  “You’re paying him to be here?” Piper asked.

  “I pay him for everything,” Vance said doggedly. “Come here,” he said, pulling her to him again. “The Ninja’s right, we’ve got all night. It’s been a long week without you in my life. I went a little hard trying to make up for lost time.”

  They swayed together to the music, sipping their beers, talking now that the noise level had lessened, the crowd had diminished. She had one hand on his shoulder, he had one hand on her hip.

  “In my own defense, I will simply plead the fifth.”

  Vance smiled. “You and your lawyer speak. Are you gonna get over me being a cop? Or do I have to get you sloppy drunk, drag you into my jurisdiction, arrest you on some trumped up charge, and then incarcerate you, hold you captive, and torture you until you change your mind?”

  “Now, see,” she drawled, “you’ve just gone and made it all sound so darn appealing. If the first cop had looked like you do and tortured me the way you have in mind, I probably would have gone on to become an actress.”

  “If the first cop had done what I plan to do, I’d have to shoot him.”

  “Avenging my honor?”

  “Erasing his memory.”

  A slow grin stretched itself across her lips. “Mmm, what could you possibly have planned?”

  “First, I’ll have to bring you to justice for public nudity.”

  “Public nudity?”

  “I could ask any guy in here who is not wearing a bra and every drunk one of them would point directly at you. Your body is this close to inciting a riot.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. “This close?” She held his gaze as Naughty Piper lifted her hands above her head and started circling her hips slowly to the beat of the music. “I’ve never…actually…incited a riot,” she said, moving in a slow circle, looking back at Vance over her shoulder. “I’m sort of looking forward to it.”

  “Go ahead and have your fun, baby doll. Penalties accrue,” he warned.

  She backed into him, rotating her hips. He took a long pull on his beer as he placed a hand—fingers splayed, palm flat—possessively against her stomach. She felt his thumb nesting between her breasts, his little finger resting on her bikini line. He pressed her back against him, hips moving to the beat of the music. He seemed reasonably restrained while her whole internal warning system went off and then began to melt. She reached one arm back to curl around his neck, a beer still clutched in her other. She felt his mouth fall to the side of her neck and his chin scrape against her shoulder. His kisses were light and teasing, and she let her eyes close, let herself get carried away with the music.

  “If we were alone, I’d strip you naked to your waist,” he whispered in her ear.

  She tilted her head back and responded. “If we were alone, I’d let you.”

  She felt him smile.

  His hand slid sensuously over the waist of her dress as they kept dancing.

  His words were low and rough. “If we were alone, my hands would be making a long, slow study of your naked and voluptuous feminine charms.”

  She smiled. “If we were alone, I’d like that.”

  He took another pull on his beer, used his chin to tilt her head in the opposite direction, and leaned down to kiss the other side of her neck. “There’s a rumor going around…that I’m good with my hands. But what I’m really good with is my mouth.” He sucked gently on her neck and sensation shot everywhere as if to prove his point. “So when I get you alone,” he said licking close to her ear, “I’m going to show you just how talented my hands and mouth can be.” When she tried to move her head to respond, he nudged it back. “Everywhere.”

  She lifted her head back against him, craning her neck so she could see him. “That’s a lotta of talk for a guy with your reputation.”

  “You think I’m playing?” he growled.

  “I think talk is cheap,” she teased.

  She was spun around, dragged up against him, and then felt all of his long, hard length rock against her.

  Dear…God.

  So besotted with the yearning pulsating through her body, she was being backed up before she knew what was happening. Her back hit a wall—a corner. A dark corner. A corner no one paid attention to because it was tucked around the arched entrance to the room and further hidden from view by a broad, square floor-to-ceiling column. The band started playing a rock ballad and the room vibrated with bass.

  “Take a sip of your beer.”

  She complied, and he took it from her, setting both their bottles on the floor.

  “Put your hands over your head.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Aww, baby doll, you think I’m kidding,” he said in an isn’t-that-cute kind of voice, taking up her wrists, bending her arms at the elbows, and pressing the backs of her hands against the wall by her shoulders. He leaned in for a kiss. A slow, sensuous they-should-be-alone-in-a-bedroom kiss. His mouth controlled the action while he kept his feet and body at a distance. Slowly he rode her hands up along the wall until they were extended high above her head. He gripped both wrists in one hand and then pressed his forehead firmly on that hand, allowing his eyes to look down at Piper.

  Her vision was engulfed by his torso. She was only able to witness the length and breadth of his chest. She licked her lips as she watched it rise and fall. When she felt fingertips drifting down over her bare arm, she lifted her head. She watched as they skimmed over the surface of her flesh, all the way down to the sensitive skin of her underarm, and then farther, moving slowly, sensuously over the silky material at the side of her breast.

  “You’ve been teasing me too long.” His voice was low and husky. He kissed her wrists held high above her head. “Every night this week, I’d wake up hard thinking of you.” He slowly pressed his lower body against her to emphasize his point. The back of his free hand drifted brazenly across the front of her dress, her nipples catching against his knuckles. Piper leaned into him when he turned his hand over and tested her flesh. His hands were amazing, the caress so tantalizing that Piper welcomed the fondling without protest. Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes as his fingers went rogue.

  She opened her eyes when Vance lifted his forehead and turned his head to look behind him. “Pinks?”

  “I’ve got your back,” came the reply.

  “Best wingman ever,” Vance muttered, bringing all his attention back to Piper. “Where were we?”

  His mouth descended by increments, so slowly she watched it come. She let her lips soften, welcoming him. She felt the pressure ease off her wrists as his tongue slipped inside her mouth and a sound of pent-up tension drifted from her. Her arms drew down the wall bit by bit, her fingers finding their way onto his shoulders and then into the curl at his nape. It was a lengthy, inviting make-out session aga
inst the wall in a dark corner of a crowded room. And every aspect of it encouraged her body to yearn for more.

  His fingers heated her skin as they caressed her throat, leisurely sliding down the exposed flesh of her neckline, and then stole inside her dress to cup a breast. Vance groaned appreciatively against her mouth and the thrill it created within her allowed him to continue. He pulled her right hand from his neck, easing it down to lay at her side. Then he reached up with two fingers, tugging at the shoulder of her dress.

  His eyes dared her to stop him before he glanced down into the gaping neckline of her dress and looked his fill.

  Her breathing accelerated, the heaving of her chest giving evidence to that. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” she whispered.

  “Naughty Piper loves trouble,” he said, looking unabashedly down her dress. She felt completely naked when he pulled at the waistband. No doubt it allowed his gaze to travel the length of her torso, spy her lacy lingerie, and see all the way down to her naked thighs. He sluggishly dragged his gaze up to her face, letting her dress fall back into place.

  “I’d like to take you home now,” he said quietly.

  She blinked a couple times, deciphering his words gradually because the chills running over her body were dumbing down her brain.

  “Piper, please don’t make me beg.”

  She smiled at the thought of Vance Evans begging for anything. “What about Pinks?”

  “He’ll take whatever car we leave behind.” Then he flashed her his big, seductive grin. “I brought my truck,” he said, dangling it out there like bait.

  “I love your truck.”

  “I know.”

  She touched a fingertip to his smooth bottom lip. “I’m thinkin’ there’s a lot we could take care of in that truck.”

  He captured her finger with his teeth. “I’m thinkin’ you’re right,” he said around it. “You willin’ to follow me out of here or am I gonna have to drag you?”

  I’ll follow you. Anywhere.

  “You willin’ to dance with me back at my apartment?” she asked.