Dance With Me by Kristin Leigh

people being tortured for that long? Rebecca knew, though. It took a Uniform, a special kind of dark soul. And a liar. Rick Jones, or whatever his name was, was just one more person in a long line of people who had abused her trust.
    Suddenly angry, Rebecca opened the door and got out of her car. He’d made her like him, with his good looks and sad smiles. She’d felt a stirring of a long-dead female need to heal a broken man. But Rick Jones was not a broken man. He was evil, pure and simple—and a liar . And Rebecca had already had enough evil and lies in her life. She clenched her fists by her sides and narrowed her eyes. With quick, angry strides she crossed the street and banged on his door.

Chapter 5
    Dammit. Someone was knocking at the door. Rick leaned his head against the wall and looked down at his engorged penis clenched in his fist. He slowed his hand and stopped. Fuck! He was so close he could almost taste it. He was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, his pants undone, stroking himself to the type of orgasm he’d almost forgotten about.
    It had been so long, so damn long, since jerking off had been anything more than part of a morning routine. Get up, brush his teeth, shave, shower, and jerk off. He’d gotten no real pleasure from the act in years. Even the quick lay in Thailand had been mediocre at best. But that redhead, Rebecca, had left Rick with mental pictures he couldn’t shake, and a longing he hadn’t felt since…well, he didn’t remember when.
    Rick considered finishing himself off before opening the door, or maybe ignoring whoever it was altogether. But the banging continued, and, with a grimace, he tucked himself back into his slacks and stood. There was a painfully obvious tent in the front of the pants, and Rick made a few adjustments so his dick didn’t greet the guest before he could.
    The pounding on the door was relentless, almost nonstop and Rick shouted, “I’m coming!” as he headed in that direction. Or I would have been, anyway.
    When he reached the door, Rick pasted his happy-to-see-you-neighbor smile on his face and jerked it open. Shit. Rebecca. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could she smiled at him and started talking.
    “Hi there! Just thought I’d stop by and see how you were after our little coffee date ended so quickly.” Rebecca pushed her way inside and Rick closed the door and turned to her, wary. “Oh, I see you don’t have your furniture moved in yet. Funny, I would have thought you would at least have a television. Or a couch. Or anything that might seem, oh I don’t know, normal. Like you actually plan on staying around. Strange, huh neighbor?”
    Rick eyed her suspiciously. Something was off. Her voice was heavily laced with sarcasm, and despite the wide smile on her face, Rebecca was shooting fire from her eyes.
    “Uh, my furniture isn’t going to be delivered until…”
    “Save it,” she bit out. “Don’t lie to me. Not one more lie, do you hear me? I understand you’ve got to ‘keep your cover’ or whatever,” she used little quotations in the air and continued, “But you don’t get to take me on a date, be supernice and understanding, and still get to lie to me. Get it?”
    Paulson. Fuck. It didn’t take two seconds to figure out how she knew. Somehow Paulson had heard about that little coffee date and warned her away. Damn that son of a bitch! His cover was shot to hell because he couldn’t resist having coffee with a spitfire redhead. He considered keeping up the ruse of Rick Jones for a split second before deciding it would be best to cut his losses. The longer he denied it, the harder Paulson, Rebecca—and God knew who else—would look.
    Rick gave Rebecca a hard look and said, “Wait here.” He stalked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. The way he saw it, Rick could send her on her way and disappear. Or—and for some reason this was the option he liked—he could show her who he was before he