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Too nice for around here. He looked like he just came from Los Angeles or New York City. Wren didn’t have much in the way of her own wardrobe, but she knew good quality clothing when she saw it.
His shoes and belt were high-end leather. His trousers were cut to fit his slender build to perfection. Even the polo shirt he wore seemed tailored for him.
Only a man who made a lot of money dressed like that. And no wonder, considering the number of bags being loaded into those coffins. He must earn a fortune selling illegal drugs.
She had to tell Jennings.
The man ended the conversation. For a long minute, she strained to hear more from him. When she heard nothing, she poked her head out again to see him all the way at the end of the hallway, walking at a leisurely pace toward the exit.
Before she could call Jennings, Janine called for her help on an emergency that cropped up. By the time she clocked out, a strong case of the jitters hit. She quickly changed back into her street clothes, grabbed her purse and practically dashed out of the building to find Jennings waiting for her on his bike.
Their gazes locked. Concern flashed over his rugged features, but she didn’t take time to respond to that look. She ran up to his bike, stumbled and almost dropped her purse. But she managed to reach the bike and throw her leg over it.
Latching her arms around his middle, she said, “Get someplace where we can talk!”
“Hang on, princess.” He hit the gas and they sped away from the nursing home that had become more than a place where she labored day in and day out for low pay.
Now even her workplace wasn’t safe.
Chapter Seven
Jennings climbed off his bike. The urgency in Wren felt like a punch to his senses, and he wasn’t going to waste a second finding out what was behind it.
He unfastened the helmet she wore and planted his hands on her waist, holding her in place.
“What happened?”
Her eyes darted left and right. “Can we talk somewhere else?”
“We can talk right here.” They were outside the club, but no one was around. The cameras the Disciples used for security were low quality and mostly for show to keep thugs from trying to steal parts off their bikes in the lot.
“Are you sure? I don’t feel comfortable here.”
“Talk to me.” The grit in his voice was unintentional but her stare flew to his and held for an endless heartbeat.
“Someone came to the nursing home today.”
“Who?”
“The guy who was on the phone with Viper. You know, in the church.”
He didn’t give any indication of what was going on in his mind—he just stared at her for another long moment. “You’re sure?”
“Totally.” A shudder tore through her.
“Okay. I’ll look into it. Just try to relax.”
“Relax? Here? Are you nuts?”
The door opened on the building on the far end of the parking lot from them, but he couldn’t risk any suspicion. He ducked his head and trapped Wren’s sweet lips under his.
She let out a low humming noise that sent spikes of need to his groin even as she melted into his touch.
God, the woman was so responsive. He didn’t think it was just an act either, and damn, that pumped up his libido.
He let his fingertips graze her side. She issued another sound.
In a swift move, he yanked her off her feet and pinned her to the building. Her eyes flared wide with surprise before he settled one hand over her breast, thumb swiping the point of her hardened nipple.
