StriporTreat Read online

  His head pounded but not to the point that he missed her light lilac fragrance or the softness of her body snuggled against him. However, the throbbing beneath his shorts threatened to rob him of his consciousness for real.

  Some aches were tolerable. Others weren’t.

  “All the times I’ve imagined you warm and willing in my arms, none of them involved you knocking me senseless first,” he teased, leaning close and nuzzling her neck. Holding the ice to his head with one hand, he pinched her hair clip with the other, tossed it to the far end of the sofa and ran his fingers through the long blonde silk. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  “That bump must have done more damage than we thought.”

  He pulled back to stare at her flushed cheeks. He cupped her chin. Her eyes resembled violet pools. He wanted to dive in. To drown in her loveliness. He fanned his fingers through the soft wheat strands of her hair. “You kidding me?”

  “My mouth is too big.” She glanced down, trying to look at her lips. She was kidding. She had to be.

  “Your mouth is perfect.” He leaned down, nose-to-nose with her and kissed her just-right mouth. “See? Perfect.”

  Almost scarily so. Maybe it was the blow to his skull but kissing Sophia made him breathless, needy, hungry for more. No mere kiss had ever electrified his entire being like this.

  “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you.” Her eyes held such sincerity that he chuckled.

  “You won’t hurt me.” But even as he deepened their kiss, he wasn’t sure he told the truth. Her fingers crept into his hair, twisting on the locks. She covered his almost numb fingers to hold the ice for him, freeing his hand. Without hesitation, he snaked his freezing fingers under her blouse.

  “Oh!” She shivered.

  Gray grinned, not stopping his exploration of the warmth her shirt hid until his fingers brushed over a pert nipple.

  “Cold?” he teased.

  “Burning alive.”

  Damn. He knew just what she meant. He pushed her bra aside and cradled her generous-sized breast in his palm. “Perfect,” he repeated his earlier praise.

  She shivered again but the heat radiating off her body assured him she wasn’t cold. Her free hand glided under his T-shirt and liquid fire churned in his gut, leaving him lightheaded, spinning. More so than when he stood in the hallway after she hit him. He pinched her nipple.

  “Ouch,” she breathed against his mouth but he hadn’t hurt her and they both knew it.

  “I had to be sure you’re really here.”

  Her eyes darkened and her plump lips curved. Sinful and seductive. Greedy fingers closed over his nipple and she returned the favor by nipping him. He shivered. From the inside out.

  “Just so you know that you’re really here. With me.”

  “I figured I was dreaming.” He massaged her breast, not liking how her clothing restricted his access.

  “Then I’m having the same dream.” She kissed the curve of his throat. Nothing had ever felt more erotic than her soft, blistering lips.

  “Don’t wake me.” He attempted to cup her other breast but couldn’t due to her blouse. He slid his hand out and stared into her eyes. “I’m going to take off your shirt, kiss you until you beg me to come inside and then I’m going to strip your pants. I want you naked and around me. If that isn’t what you want, tell me now.”

  He held his breath, waiting for her answer. Maybe he shouldn’t be so crass about his intentions but he had a feeling once they started he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  He wanted her to be sure.

  And he wasn’t sure she was despite the heat in her gaze.

  She swallowed but didn’t look away. Smooth palm against his sensitized skin, her hand splayed across his chest. Every nerve cell in his body started and ended with the flesh-to-flesh connection of their bodies.

  “I thought you were going to strip for me?” she finally said, flashing a smile that was innocence and sin all wrapped into one luscious slant of her mouth.

  “I will. But not tonight. I’m afraid tonight is going to be fast and furious.” He laced his hand with hers, the one not holding the ice. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes. Please. I want you. Desperately.”

  That summed it up. Desperately. With as much finesse as a beyond horny man with two throbbing heads could manage, Gray ripped her blouse over her head. The makeshift ice pack slipped, falling somewhere onto the couch.

  Unclasping her bra at record speed, he gaped at her creamy perfection. With reverence, he dipped and took a pink tip into his mouth and sucked. Sophia’s gasp told him he wasn’t the only one stomping in treacherous water. Good. He wanted her as affected by his touch as he was by the lightest brush of her hand. He tasted and nipped until her fingernails scraped against his T-shirt. Until she strained against him, wanting more. More of what he wanted to give. He kissed his way to her other breast and inflicted the same tongue twirling, lip smacking attention on the rounded mound as he had its twin.

  “Gray,” she panted, bowing her spine and digging her nails deeper. “I want your shirt off.”

  He shed his T-shirt. “Anything you want,” he murmured.

  Her head shot forward.

  “Anything?” Her question came out breathless, as if she’d run up a flight of stairs.

  “Hell yes.” If she didn’t quit devouring him with her eyes, he’d never be able to wait. Already he longed to sink inside her, to discover how reality measured up to fantasy.

  “Take me,” she rasped. “Now.”

  “Hell yes,” he repeated. Without another word, he tugged off her pants, her stockings, sighing with appreciation at her trim waist, her curvy hips. Unable to resist, he bent and kissed her navel. Ignoring his wave of lightheadedness, he thrust his tongue into the tiny indention.

  Sophia’s fingers found their way to his shoulders and the pressure of her nails sparked electricity that ran directly to his groin. God, he wanted her. Looping his fingers inside the silky material of her panties, he rolled them down her thighs, never pausing from his mouth’s exploration of her abdomen. Lower.

  He pushed her back against the couch, ignored her suddenly shy protests when he spread her legs. He was right. She was beautiful. Exotically so. One finger, then two thrust into her hot, slippery folds.

  “Gray.” His name came out as a breathless pant. He moved his fingers back and forth and her panting grew. Louder. Stronger. More fervent as she came. “Gray. Please.”

  He straightened, the room spinning around him. No matter. Sophia lay spread and waiting for him. In record time, he shucked out of his shorts.

  She eyed his length while he slipped on a condom. A mew of appreciation broke through her breathy pants.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. Sophia. Sweet, sweet Sophia. God help him, he wanted to make this perfect for her. Wanted the sound of bells in his head to quit chiming.

  He hesitated, trying to clear the ringing from his ears. Maybe he did have a concussion.

  “Gray?” She kissed his chin. “Should you answer that?”

  Answer? The ringing. His cell phone. Shit. Who would call at this time of night? He didn’t want to answer but what if something important had come up with the case? ’Cause that’s the only calls he’d get this far past midnight.

  “Yeah.” He stood took a second to steady himself, waited until the room stopped spinning and walked to the small television where he’d sat his phone.

  “Erickson.”

  “‘Bout time you answered. What took you so long?”

  The director. Great.

  “I was busy.”

  “At this time of night?” his boss asked, then chuckled. “Never mind. I can figure that one out on my own, you dog. All those women throwing themselves at you. What a tough life you’ve got going. No wonder this case is taking so long.”

  Gray flicked a glance at Sophia. Could she hear Lawrence?

  She sat up straighter, watching him with unsure eyes. He could see the doubts etchin
g their way onto her face. His boss had perfectly crappy timing.

  “Yeah, something like that. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  Another chuckle. “Am I keeping you from something?”

  “Yep,” he said. Sophia slipped her panties back on. “Don’t.”

  She paused, then shrugged and picked up her clothes.

  “Huh?” Lawrence asked.

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured that. Look, we need to talk. What time can you meet tomorrow?”

  “Whenever’s fine.” He couldn’t risk saying more than that in front of Sophia. Who was buttoning her slacks. Shit. “Look, I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Lawrence gave him instructions. Gray mentally stored the information, watching Sophia slip on her shirt. He clicked the phone shut and gave a halfhearted smile. “You’re going across the hallway?”

  Her face pinkened and she avoided looking at him. “I, well, yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Don’t suppose I’m invited?”

  She smiled, wiggled into her shoes and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Not tonight. You’re not dressed for a trip across the hallway.”

  “I wish you’d stay,” he admitted, reminding himself his reasons had everything to do with the case.

  “A lot happened today. Be patient. Our time will come,” she said before slipping through the door.

  Yeah, well, he’d wanted to be what came but it looked like that wasn’t in the cards tonight. Not unless he intended to play a game of five finger jack off.

  * * * * *

  “I’m tired of this bullshit, Erickson. You’ve had two months and we’re no closer to busting this case than we were when we sent you in.”

  Tell him something he didn’t know. Gray ran his fingers through his hair.

  “I’m working on it,” he mumbled to the man sitting across from him in the downtown bagel shop.

  “Yeah, well you’ve been working it from the wrong angle. Get out from behind that bar. Maybe you’ll learn more by getting on stage and backstage than you have by pouring drinks.”

  “Hell no.”

  “What?” Lawrence raised an eyebrow.

  “Hell no, sir,” Gray amended.

  “Maybe you misunderstood.” Lawrence took a sip of his coffee and eyed Gray. “I’m not asking. You get on that stage. I don’t care if you have to beg for the privilege of taking off your clothes, you make it happen.”

  “There has to be another way.”

  “We don’t have time to fool around. Our sources say a big shipment is planned to move through the club on Saturday night.”

  Saturday night? “At the Halloween bash?”

  “Yes.” Lawrence took a bite of the bagel he’d bought before joining Gray at a booth far from the other customers. “So whatever you have to do, whoever you have to do, you get backstage that night.”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I said, yes, sir.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Lawrence’s mustache twitched. “Oh and Erickson?”

  “Hm?”

  “Try not to have too much fun with all those ladies eyeing your crotch.”

  “Shit.”

  Lawrence laughed out loud. “Well, try not to do that either. Might really put a stink in the show.”

  “Ha ha.” Gray rolled his eyes. “Oh, there’s something I need you to check into. Genevieve Walker’s family in Atlanta. Find out about them.”

  Lawrence took another sip of coffee. “Anything in particular we’re looking for?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “About?”

  “Genevieve doesn’t have anything to do with her family in Atlanta.”

  “So?” Lawrence wasn’t impressed. “That showed up in the preliminary report on her.”

  “Then why did Sophia Walker run to her aunt’s aid with just one phone call? Don’t you find it odd that there’s been no known contact between them up to that point? Ever? Why is that?”

  “Lots of families are split. Probably had something to do with money but I’ll check and let you know what we find.”

  “Thanks.” Gray stood and tossed a couple of dollars on the table.

  “Don’t forget, Erickson. I want you backstage on Saturday night.”

  Like he’d be able to think of anything else.

  Chapter Four

  The tires on Sophia’s BMW squealed as she rounded a street corner too fast. Ignoring her mother’s nagging voice from inside her head warning that she’d age before her time, she wrinkled her forehead. Her foot pressed firmly against the accelerator in rebellion at thoughts of her mother. Since when did she drive fast? Or squeal tires? She considered her less than productive morning and creased her forehead even more.

  A whole agency full of hunky men, yet few of them suitable, or willing, to strip. How could that be? She had enough to worry about with her continued analysis of her aunt’s books without having to worry about finding a replacement finale.

  She hit her brakes as a traffic light turned red.

  Tearing open a packet of candy Pop Rocks, her all-time sweet weakness, she helped herself to a generous mouthful of the crackling strawberry candy. Mmm. Ever since she was a child, she’d loved how the stuff snapped and popped in her mouth. Delicious and exciting. Adventurous and daring according to her childhood friend Cindy Lou Simmons who said if you mixed the candy with soda pop your stomach would explode. To this day, Sophia didn’t mix Pop Rocks with soda. The closest she’d ever gotten to adventurous and daring was chucking her safe but boring life in Atlanta to come to Nashville on the day after Aunt Genevieve’s stroke. Of course, the events following that decision hadn’t been too staid either.

  Drumming her thumbs against the steering wheel she considered the night before. She’d hit Gray, he gave her an out of this world orgasm and now she was contemplating an affair with her aunt’s bartender.

  Her aunt’s bartender who got phone calls at one in the morning and refused to go the doctor despite the fact he had a concussion.

  The traffic light changed to green and Sophia punched the accelerator.

  This morning when she left for the hospital to visit Aunt Genevieve, Gray headed out of the club for a jog. A jog. That couldn’t be a good idea so soon after a head injury.

  Fortunately, the knot had gone down and was barely noticeable beneath his thick, black hair when she’d checked on him. Only once had she seen him rubbing the bump on his head and wincing slightly while they stood in his doorway chatting. Standing in his doorway, because the thought of being alone in his apartment tempted too much and she had to find a stripper.

  Maybe one of the five men coming to “interview” would be a natural stripper. She’d invite the other four to participate in the amateurs’ competition during half time of Halloween night’s show. Just one studly stripper to be the special treat. That’s all she needed.

  Sophia ran her palms along the sleek lines of the navy leather covering the steering wheel. What if she couldn’t find a stripper? Then what? And, much worse, what if her aunt really was committing tax fraud and Sophia were put in the position of launching an official investigation or covering for her? What if Gray were involved?

  She sucked in air and almost choked on the Pop Rocks fizzing in her mouth. Coughing to clear her throat, she turned the car into Heavenly Hunks’ back parking lot.

  Have mercy. Gray’s rear-end stuck up in the air while he dug under the seat of his old Ford truck. She sighed with appreciation. The man knew how to fill out a pair of jeans. And how. He stretched forward and his T-shirt pulled tight over his back and shoulders. She couldn’t help herself, she whistled. Not that he could hear her but she blushed like a nun had just caught her screwing the football team.

  Something about Gray caused her to act out of character.

  Or maybe it was sleeping in her aunt’s heart-shaped bed with its custom red satin sheets and vibrating control switch. O
r the earth-shattering orgasm Gray had given her with his magical fingers—something no other man had done, period. Regardless, something had her expressing her emotions rather than holding them in like a polite young lady should.

  Her mother would be scandalized.

  Of course, her mother was scandalized by almost everything Sophia did and she’d tried hard too hard to earn her mother’s admiration. To no avail. Why keep trying to accomplish the impossible when it was making Sophia so miserable?

  She’d save her aunt’s club, her aunt’s freedom if needed and enjoy Gray without questioning his background or why he got middle of the night phone calls. She’d use him for what promised to be great sex, not plan a future. She’d enjoy life like her sizzling strawberry candy. She wanted the snap, the crackle and the pop. All her most erotic fantasies. With Gray.

  She whipped into a parking space two places down and honked the horn. Gray jerked, bumping his head against the top of the open door. He blinked at her and rubbed his head.

  Sophia winced. Lord, she was going to be the death of him yet. She waved, killed the engine and gathered her purse. Before she could reach for the handle, her car door swung open.

  A grin slashed across his handsome face while he leaned against the door. “You’re rough on a man, you know?”

  “I know.” She offered a sheepish smile of her own. “I keep trying to knock some sense into you. Is it working?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Lay off, or I’m going to look like road kill.” He absently rubbed the top of his head, grin still in place. Sophia tried to ignore the way his biceps bulged with his movements. Tried and failed. Those arms held her last night and she longed to stroke her fingers over them now, to trace every sinew, every ripple, to remember how…

  “Sexiest road kill I’ve ever seen but I’ll keep that in mind.” Needing a distraction so she wouldn’t jump his bones right here and now, she nodded toward his truck. “What are you doing?”

  His grin faded but he quickly slid it back into place. Sophia watched in fascination as his T-shirt pulled tight with the expansion of his broad chest.

  “Just cleaning out my truck.”

  She blinked at his guilty expression. Now that she thought of it, he’d looked a bit guilty when he turned to face her. Right before he’d flashed that killer grin. What was going on? Had he been waiting on her to get back?