him.
When they were back in his room, she hesitated near the bed.
“Take off the shirt,” Drake told her flatly. The woman couldn’t sleep in a blood-soaked shirt.
He caught the fast sound of her indrawn breath. “But…that GQ doctor said—”
“I’m not fucking you tonight, Jasmine.”
Tomorrow night?
Maybe. He went to this closet. Came back out with one of his shirts. “Put this on.”
Her fingers reached for the offered shirt. Brushed against his. An electric current seemed to shoot right through his hand.
He’d felt attraction before. Plenty of times. After all, the world was full of beautiful women, and he could certainly appreciate beauty. But this was different.
He looked at her, and he ached.
He touched her, and he craved.
“Turn around,” Jasmine told him.
He didn’t. He did raise his brows. “I’ve seen you without a shirt before.”
Her lips thinned. “Turn. Around.”
Pity. He turned. Heard the soft rustle of clothing behind him.
“Okay.” Her voice was hesitant.
He looked back. She had on his shirt, and it swallowed her. It also made her look delicate, vulnerable. Sexy. “You still have on the pants.”
Her eyes widened as she glanced down at herself.
“You can’t sleep in them. Finish stripping, then get in bed.” He motioned to said bed.
“You expect me to sleep with you?”
He folded his arms over his chest. This shouldn’t be so hard to explain. The woman obviously had issues following orders. “I expect you to get in bed before you collapse.”
She bit her lower lip.
Shit. Shit,
shit.
He wanted a bite.
“I don’t understand you,” Jasmine murmured. “If you want answers…”
“I don’t want a fainting woman on my floor, and princess, I’m dead on my feet, too. We’re crashing. Everything else can just wait until the sun comes up.”
Her gaze slid to the king-sized bed. “I’m just supposed to trust that I can sleep here, safely?”
“No.”
Her dark stare snapped right back to him.
“You shouldn’t trust me, because I sure don’t trust you.” But he’d give her tonight—or what was left of the night. Because he could still see the image of a needle sliding into her delicate flesh. “Rest.” The order came out hard and gruff as he headed for the door.
“Thank you.”
Her soft words stopped him at the threshold. “What was I supposed to do? Walk away and just let you keep bleeding out in the alley?”
“It’s not like that hasn’t happened before.”
He grabbed the door frame. Held it too tightly.
It won’t happen again.
“I’ll find a way to repay you,” Jasmine promised. “I always repay my debts.”
He spared her a brief glance. “Good…because I always collect on the debts owed to me.” He figured that she deserved that warning.
Then, because the bed behind her looked too good—no,
she
looked too good, wearing his shirt, waiting by his bed, Drake left her. He shut the door firmly, and headed down the hallway. Even though he was bone weary, Drake knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily for him.
It never did. The dead haunted him too much.
***
“You seem to be missing someone…”
Wayne tensed when he saw his boss stride toward him. The dawn Vegas sky was streaked with lines of red and gold. They were meeting in the middle of nowhere, a spot that his GPS hadn’t been able to find, and Wayne was nervous as all hell.
This place is too much like a body dump site.
No one would find remains out here in the desert. If the animals
left
any remains.
“Jasmine Bennett was supposed to be with you.”
Wayne didn’t try to hide the truth. He knew better than to lie to this man. “She’s with Drake Archer.”
He expected fury. He expected the boss to take out a gun and shoot him right there. According to the stories he’d heard, the guy had done that before. Wayne tried to brace for impact.
Instead, the man smiled. “Is she now?”
Wayne nodded. Sweat drenched his forehead.
“Good.
When they were back in his room, she hesitated near the bed.
“Take off the shirt,” Drake told her flatly. The woman couldn’t sleep in a blood-soaked shirt.
He caught the fast sound of her indrawn breath. “But…that GQ doctor said—”
“I’m not fucking you tonight, Jasmine.”
Tomorrow night?
Maybe. He went to this closet. Came back out with one of his shirts. “Put this on.”
Her fingers reached for the offered shirt. Brushed against his. An electric current seemed to shoot right through his hand.
He’d felt attraction before. Plenty of times. After all, the world was full of beautiful women, and he could certainly appreciate beauty. But this was different.
He looked at her, and he ached.
He touched her, and he craved.
“Turn around,” Jasmine told him.
He didn’t. He did raise his brows. “I’ve seen you without a shirt before.”
Her lips thinned. “Turn. Around.”
Pity. He turned. Heard the soft rustle of clothing behind him.
“Okay.” Her voice was hesitant.
He looked back. She had on his shirt, and it swallowed her. It also made her look delicate, vulnerable. Sexy. “You still have on the pants.”
Her eyes widened as she glanced down at herself.
“You can’t sleep in them. Finish stripping, then get in bed.” He motioned to said bed.
“You expect me to sleep with you?”
He folded his arms over his chest. This shouldn’t be so hard to explain. The woman obviously had issues following orders. “I expect you to get in bed before you collapse.”
She bit her lower lip.
Shit. Shit,
shit.
He wanted a bite.
“I don’t understand you,” Jasmine murmured. “If you want answers…”
“I don’t want a fainting woman on my floor, and princess, I’m dead on my feet, too. We’re crashing. Everything else can just wait until the sun comes up.”
Her gaze slid to the king-sized bed. “I’m just supposed to trust that I can sleep here, safely?”
“No.”
Her dark stare snapped right back to him.
“You shouldn’t trust me, because I sure don’t trust you.” But he’d give her tonight—or what was left of the night. Because he could still see the image of a needle sliding into her delicate flesh. “Rest.” The order came out hard and gruff as he headed for the door.
“Thank you.”
Her soft words stopped him at the threshold. “What was I supposed to do? Walk away and just let you keep bleeding out in the alley?”
“It’s not like that hasn’t happened before.”
He grabbed the door frame. Held it too tightly.
It won’t happen again.
“I’ll find a way to repay you,” Jasmine promised. “I always repay my debts.”
He spared her a brief glance. “Good…because I always collect on the debts owed to me.” He figured that she deserved that warning.
Then, because the bed behind her looked too good—no,
she
looked too good, wearing his shirt, waiting by his bed, Drake left her. He shut the door firmly, and headed down the hallway. Even though he was bone weary, Drake knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily for him.
It never did. The dead haunted him too much.
***
“You seem to be missing someone…”
Wayne tensed when he saw his boss stride toward him. The dawn Vegas sky was streaked with lines of red and gold. They were meeting in the middle of nowhere, a spot that his GPS hadn’t been able to find, and Wayne was nervous as all hell.
This place is too much like a body dump site.
No one would find remains out here in the desert. If the animals
left
any remains.
“Jasmine Bennett was supposed to be with you.”
Wayne didn’t try to hide the truth. He knew better than to lie to this man. “She’s with Drake Archer.”
He expected fury. He expected the boss to take out a gun and shoot him right there. According to the stories he’d heard, the guy had done that before. Wayne tried to brace for impact.
Instead, the man smiled. “Is she now?”
Wayne nodded. Sweat drenched his forehead.
“Good.
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