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Chapter One
Jenna-Jayne Justice should have never said yes to that third shot of whiskey. Having tossed her black glasses on the counter an hour ago, she looked around the seedy Kansas City bar, three hundred miles from her cozy hometown of Diamond, Kansas, and realized one drink too late that she was the wrong kind of girl, this was the wrong kind of place, and her current two-step partner’s hands were definitely on her ass.
“Your hands are a bit south there.” She went to move away from the man who was holding her. Damn. She couldn’t even remember his name. Jeff maybe?
He clutched her tighter, refusing to grant the space she was trying to gain. What the hell had she been thinking, agreeing to this dance?
Oh yes, she had convinced herself that a night with Jack Daniel’s and a spin around the dance floor would erase the memory of her disastrous meeting with the Kansas State Board of Education.
While we like your pitch, Miss Justice, we are not sure you are the right candidate to carry out such a responsibility…
The thought made her face burn hotter than the whiskey toiling in her gut. They had taken one look at her and dismissed her credentials, completely ignoring what she could bring to the table.
“My mistake,” Jeff mumbled. He was apparently directionally challenged because, instead of heading north, his hands ventured even lower, around both cheeks, delivering a pinching squeeze.
“Get. Your hands. Off. My ass,” she grated, leaving no doubt by her tone, or the way her pointed heel ground into Mr. Touchy-Feely’s big toe, that she was tired of being underestimated.
“Shit, woman. Watch where you put those feet,” he said, moving his hands back to her waist.
Her good manners good and gone, she didn’t even apologize for the bruise he was sure to have come morning. In fact, she kept her knee within ground-zero range, just in case his hands accidently slipped again.
Maybe her friend Lily was right. Maybe she was a total prude.
Jenna sighed and wondered what it would feel like to forget decorum and just let go.
She had left that meeting with such heavy defeat crushing her chest, she didn’t give a crap about what tomorrow would bring. But her brilliant plan of letting loose had backfired. She was surrounded by strangers and four walls plastered with neon beer signs, and all she wanted was to go home.
“Come on, baby,” Jeff slurred, squeezing her left ass cheek again.
Hell, no! Prude or not, being manhandled after a state-certified rejection was the last thing she needed.
“I think I’ve had my fill of dancing for one night.” Jenna took a large step back, out of his arms. “And it’s getting late.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said, closing the distance and grabbing her by the waist. “I was thinking the same thing. What do you say you and I go back to my place and…” He ground up against her.
“I was thinking more of, ‘Good night.’ Now let go.”
He didn’t move. “A girl like you should know how this works.”
Jenna stiffened, her face flushing at the familiar taunt.
Jeff’s eyes, and grip, tightened. “I bought you three rounds, showed you a nice time on the dance floor. So maybe you should be a good little lady and return the favor?”
“Last warning,” Jenna said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. “Let go of me.”
Jeff actually laughed. “Or what?”
Before she knew what was happening, Jeff’s hand moved up her body, grazing the bottom of her breast. Her fist balled up tight and smashed into Jeff’s jaw. A slice of pain cut through her knuckles as Jeff stumbled away from her.
“You bitch!” Jeff hollered. He righted himself and took an aggressive step forward.
The music stopped. Every pair of eyes bore down on her.
Oh God. What had she been thinking? She had never struck anyone. She had a sign above her desk, made out of crayons and poster board that stated fighting never solved anything. Use words instead.
Jenna’s pulse pounded in her ears. The wildness inside her, the wildness she’d worked so hard to suffocate, began to breathe.
This asshole guy had groped her. In public. After she said
