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I think back to my father’s conversation as he listed potential suitors for me to marry. I don’t know his name; maybe he was on the list and I hadn’t met him yet.
He kisses me again, sucking on my tongue with a groan. Every inch of his sculpted muscles are pressed firmly against me. I’ve lost all common sense. He’s kissing me dumb, smells like expensive cologne, but dressed to say the opposite.
He grows hard against me, and I wonder if I can be that girl who has a one-night stand. I’ve never had the opportunity, with bodyguards watching me all the time, and I’ve never wanted to throw caution to the wind like I am right now.
“How much?” His lips go to my neck, and I’m sure I don’t hear him right. My overactive nervousness has me second-guessing myself. There’s no way this man just asked me that.How much for what?I refuse to allow myself to go down that rabbit hole when his kisses are so damn intoxicating.
He gives me a little nip, my heart pounding harder, and I get lightheaded from never wanting him to stop touching me.
My fingers claw into his scalp, down toward his neck and back.
“How much will a hundred buy me?”
I try to push away, but the wall is holding me in place.
“Excuse me?”He thinks I’m a prostitute.“Are you asking to buy sex from me?” I’m disgusted by the idea. All the tingly, warm feelings shatter, and I want to throw up. I need to get away from this pervert. I feel naked all over again with my clothing.
His eyes narrow on mine, and the warmth is gone, replaced with cold hardness. I glare back at him. He needs a lesson in manners. Cold metal clasps over my wrist, gaining my attention with alarm. He’s locked one of my hands in handcuffs.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I demand, trying to move past him, but his wide stance keeps me against the wall.
“Honey, I’m the one saving your ass. Give me your John, and I’ll let you go—this time.”
My mouth opens in horror and shock. I’m in the middle of being arrested for being a prostitute. I try to look behind him, praying for my best friend or bodyguard. This is why I’m not allowed to go anywhere by myself.Fuck me. Briefly, I close my eyes, trying to keep my temper in check.
“I’m not who you think I am,” I say, my jaw clenched.
He pulls me toward the exit sign. No matter how hard I try to squirm away, it’s impossible. The handcuffs tug at my skin as I’m roughly pulled with no regard.
Stepping outside, he positions us into another secluded area, flashing his badge. He doesn’t look like a cop. I don’t feel safe with him. All I want is my bodyguard.Where the hell is Leo?If my father finds out about this, I’m going to be married off before the week is over.
“Uncuff me right now, or you’ll lose your job.” I hold myself straight as I bare my gritted teeth to him.
He laughs in my face. “Listen, Red, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Arrogance drips from his tone, and he’s looking at me like a cockroach he wants to squish.
“Red?”
His head tilts toward my crop top.
“Clever.” Sarcasm laces my tone. “Listen, I know it’s not protocol to be sampling the merchandise before an arrest. And I didn’t accept any money. There are zero reasons for my hands to be in cuffs.” I smirk.
He tugs on the cuffs harder, the metal biting into my skin.
“What the hell? I’m Aria Rossi, asshole.”
His eyebrow lifts, not believing me. “Sure, Lori.”
Before I can give him a proper bitching, Leo has a gun to this jerk’s head. “Do as the lady says.” Leo is calm, unconcerned he’s just pulled a gun on a cop. Behind him, Lori is looking at me sheepishly. I take it she was the distraction so I could have a fun night out. Well, this backfired on me.
“Where’s your ID?” the cop asks.
Rolling my eyes, I pull it out from my strapless bra, slamming it into his palm. He studies it, looking for any defect. The silence stretches between us before a deep sigh rips from him. Taking out a key from his back pocket, he shoves it into the lock to loosen the metal. When the cuff unlatches from my reddened skin, he holds my wrist, leaning in. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Aria.”
I walk away,going behind the building to where my motorcycle is parked. The bouncer at the VIP door nods my way. Heading toward him, I slip him a hundred for his phone call.
My partner, Grant Sanders, walks out from the VIP door a moment later. He grew up here. The difference between us is he doesn’t have a problem lining his pockets with money for the insignificant stuff. He looks at it like we deserve the extra cash for putting our necks on the line each day.
“Find the lead I gave you?”
