Stolen Heat Part 17

She ran hard, darting around trees and rocks and skidding in the dirt. Shouts and voices and an eruption of gunfire echoed behind her, but she kept running. The thunder was now a resounding echo in her ears that she couldn't get away from, until suddenly she thought she heard her name being called on the wind.

"Kat!"

Stumbling over rocks that seemed to come out of nowhere, she fell, took in a mouthful of dirt, rolled quickly and jumped to her feet again, ready to tear off into the trees. Until she realized the rumbling wasn't thunder or a helicopter, but a motorcycle rus.h.i.+ng toward her. And driving? A big blond hulk of a man she never thought she'd see again.

She was too scared to spend much time thinking about the reasons Pete had come back. She simply leapt off the path as he approached to make room. He didn't stop the bike, and she didn't wait. With one swift move as if they'd practiced it a hundred times before, he grasped her arm in one hand and pulled her onto the back of the bike as she jumped with all her might.

"Hold on!" he yelled.

She did. Finding the footrests on the axle, she wrapped both arms tight around his waist and buried her face against his strong, muscular back. They sped off into the depths of the park with the wind whipping her hair, away from Minyawi and their second brush with death in only a matter of hours.

And it wasn't until they reached the parking lot on the opposite end of the park that she realized her hands weren't clenched tight around Pete's belt buckle, but around the base of a backpack he was wearing backward against his chest.

Her backpack from the car.

Pete revved the Honda's engine and sailed through the streets of Philadelphia. At his waist, Kat's fingers dug into his skin through his jacket. He knew they were being followed. The last two times he'd checked there'd been a motorbike hanging with them some distance back.

Weaving in and out of traffic, the bike hiccupped, and he glanced down, realizing in a rush they were almost out of gas. Didn't it just figure the bike he'd picked to lift was now operating on fumes?

When the bike coughed again, he turned onto a side street and quickly darted into an alley. He parked behind a Dumpster as far out of sight as he could, killed the engine and hit the kickstand.

Kat let go of his waist and sat up. "What happened?"

"Out of gas." He climbed off the bike, switched the pack to his back and grabbed her hand. "Let's go."

She didn't argue, instead gripped his hand in hers and ran with him. The alley spilled out onto a dimly lit street. Darkness was just settling in as they wove through pedestrians on the sidewalk. They kept close to the buildings in the less-than-desirable neighborhood and tried to blend in.

Didn't work. Minyawi's muscle was still behind them and closing fast, so lollygagging down the sidewalk wasn't gonna cut it. When Pete heard the rev of a motorbike behind them, he didn't bother to look back. He clenched Kat's hand hard and pulled her into the first open door he could find.

Smoke and darkness surrounded them. Kat coughed in the thick haze as Pete's eyes and ears adjusted to the pulsing lights and rhythmic ba.s.s echoing out of speakers hidden in the walls. His first thought was nightclub. Then he took in the surroundings, the hour, and knew he wasn't so lucky. And that speculation was confirmed as he pulled Kat behind him down a long dark corridor and they were met by a scantily clad woman in a rhinestone-studded halter top, black skirt that barely covered her a.s.s and eight-inch spike heels.

"Ten-dollar cover," she announced. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and her silver top formed a revealing vee all the way to her naval.

Definitely not your local nightclub.

Kat's eyes widened as she too realized where they were. But when the door around the corner was jerked open and a blast of frigid air swept into the lobby, she pushed Pete forward. "Pay the lady already."

The three-hundred-pound bouncer built like an Eagles linebacker eyed them as if he had a sixth sense about their situation. No doubt he'd seen everything working in a place like this. "We don't want no trouble in here."

Pete nodded, pulled a twenty from his back pocket, thanked his lucky stars the guy wasn't going to frisk him and slapped the money on the high counter. "We're just here for the entertainment." He didn't wait for the woman to stamp their hands, instead grabbed Kat and pulled her around the corner into the heart of the strip club.

They paused long enough to get their bearings. The smoke was thicker in here, the music a body-thumping beat that made it impossible to hear conversation going on around them. Neon lights pulsed across the club's floor, spotlighting the three elevated stages where girls in various states of undress were grinding and gyrating for both men and women seated around them.

Kat's fingernails dug into his palm, and Pete darted a look her direction. Her eyes were wide as she took it all in, and he knew if he didn't do something quick, she was going to attract unwanted attention real fast.

He gripped her hand and pulled, knowing there was one place they could blend in that might just save their a.s.ses. Skin joints all around the world were the same. He'd been in enough of them, cutting deals with seedy dealers he'd never look twice at back in Miami.

The VIP area was one floor up, set back from a balcony that overlooked the action below. He led Kat up the winding stairs and tried like h.e.l.l to stay close to the wall and in the shadows. When they got to the second floor, he pointed at the first dancer walking out the door and said, "You'll do. In there."

She eyed him up and down as she pulled her glove-fitting, siren red dress back into place. Then she shot a quick glance in Kat's direction, and a knowing smile slid across her heavily made-up face. "Sure thing, big guy. You watching or is she?"

Kat tensed at his side, and she opened her mouth to protest, but her words were cut off by a ruckus going on below them.

Pete eased close to the railing to look down. His adrenaline spiked. "f.u.c.k," he muttered.

Alarm spread across Kat's face, and she stepped closer to look over the railing herself. Her pulse jumped in the skin of her hand still pressed tightly against his when she spotted the burly-looking, dark-haired man below arguing with one of the bouncers they'd pa.s.sed on the way in. Not Minyawi or Busir, but definitely one of their cronies from Slade's property.

Before he could react, Kat pulled him back from the ledge and made a beeline for the private room. "Him. I'll watch."

Pete nearly tripped over his feet, both at her command and the way she was tugging him like a woman on a mission, but he managed to shake his head at the dancer as Kat pulled him into the room. "No, you dance for her."

He figured all around that was safer. He wouldn't be distracted that way, and he could keep an eye on the door just in case. Plus, he didn't want the stripper inadvertently finding the 10 mm lodged in the waistband of his jeans.

Another NFL-worthy bouncer closed the door behind them and slid into the shadows. The blonde in the skintight number pointed toward a plush couch in the far corner. Two other dancers were earning big bucks as they shook their hips and naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s at the men seated in front of them. No one seemed to notice they'd come into the room.

To her credit, Kat managed not to look sh.e.l.l-shocked, but she did shoot Pete a big what-the-f.u.c.k over her shoulder before she parked it on the unoccupied couch and stared up at the dancer following closely at his back.

And Pete's brain took that opportunity to throw a big ol' what-the-f.u.c.k at him then as well. Twenty-four hours ago he'd had a pretty ordinary life. Work and the occasional date. A party here and there. Nothing overly exciting except for a few work-related overseas trips he took each year. But even those had tamed down, spread out as he'd cleaned up his act.

Now he was on the run from a homicidal maniac, about to watch the girl of his dreams, who he'd thought was dead, get a lap dance from some anonymous blonde he could care less about. Holy s.h.i.+t, this was so so not what he'd envisioned when he'd climbed into that limo last night, closed his eyes and wished for something different. not what he'd envisioned when he'd climbed into that limo last night, closed his eyes and wished for something different.

Nerves thumping as the music changed tempo, Pete sat on the couch, close enough to keep up their ruse as a couple simply out on the town for a good time, but with enough distance so he could see around the dancer toward the door. He dropped the backpack at his feet and heard Kat draw in a sharp breath as the blonde leaned forward and whispered something in her ear he couldn't hear.

He looked her direction, caught Kat's eyes widen as she gave her head a small shake in response and darted a quick look his way. But the dancer only smiled a knowing grin and eased back. Then the woman licked her lips and winked at Pete as the show started and her hips began to move to the beat of the drum.

His blood warmed. He knew a possible killer was just downstairs, but seeing Kat's reaction to what the dancer had whispered made his groin tighten. Obviously, it had something to do with him from the way she'd looked at him, but h.e.l.l if he could imagine what the woman could have said to put that color on Kat's cheeks.

Or maybe he could. His blood went white-hot at the erotic images suddenly kicking off in his brain.

Oh, s.h.i.+t. This was a really bad idea.

The music swelled, distracting him from his thoughts. The blonde undulated her hips to the rhythm, sliding her hands up her rib cage to cup and mold her barely covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Eyes closed, she rolled her head to the side and pulled the clip from the back of her hair so her long blonde locks spilled down over her shoulders in a seductive move a man would have to be impotent not to react to. Her hands ran lower, over her abdomen, slowly, inch by inch until she widened her stance, leaned forward to give them a teasing shot of surgery-enhanced cleavage and rubbed her inner thighs like they burned. In a very calculated and wellpracticed move, she lifted one stiletto-clad foot and placed it on the armrest at Kat's right.

Pete's jeans grew incredibly tight. But not because of the blonde or what she was doing. No, he barely saw her. His attention was glued instead to Kat and her reaction to what she was seeing. Eyes wide as saucers, her mouth open in a little "o," she watched the dancer in front of her, riveted by the scene. Once or twice she s.h.i.+fted against the cus.h.i.+ons of the couch, as if uncomfortable with the situation, but she barely blinked. And the series of glances she kept shooting his direction, as if to gauge his reaction as the stripper gyrated and ground her hips around, only made him hotter with every pa.s.sing second.

Had she ever been in a strip club before? He didn't know. But the way she licked her lip, the way her top teeth sank against her bottom lip, nearly sent him over the edge.

d.a.m.n, he really didn't need this. He needed to be watching the door, not her. He tried to look away, but then the stripper turned, bent over at the waist and lifted her dress high up her thighs, giving them both a clear view of her itty-bitty thong. Kat's eyes grew even wider. The blonde ran her hand down the back of her leg and glanced around at Kat with a coy smile. Then she dragged her hands up her a.s.s and pumped her hips in time to the beat.

Kat looked directly at him, and he didn't miss the unmistakable flash of arousal in her eyes, would have had to be dead not to feel the electricity buzzing in the air between them. His erection jerked to attention in response, and he wondered if she was thinking of him as she swallowed and slowly went back to watching the dancer.

He didn't know. But when she unzipped her jacket, lifted her hand to the silver medal hanging from her neck and rubbed her fingers against the warm metal and the edge of her white T-s.h.i.+rt, Pete knew he was lost. He couldn't look away if his life depended on it.

She drew slow, easy circles over her peachy skin, each time going a fraction of an inch lower toward her plump breast until Pete thought he'd explode. The whole time she was touching herself as if she had no idea what her own fingers were doing. At some point, Pete realized the stripper had ditched her dress, but he barely noticed. Heat colored Kat's cheeks now, and the arousal he saw on her face forced him to adjust his own position on the couch to keep the pain of his growing erection at bay.

It could have been the music. It could have been the fact they were running for their lives and no doubt both had enough adrenaline in their systems to power a small city. Most likely it was the s.e.x-charged atmosphere and the surging woman in front of them that was changing things. But whatever the cause, as Pete watched the stripper move closer to Kat and give her what he knew was her first lap dance, he still wanted her.

He might have every reason in the world to be ticked at her, but that didn't change the fact he wanted her her dancing for dancing for him him like that right now. He wanted like that right now. He wanted her her wriggling her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his face, wriggling her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his face, her her hands stroking over his shoulders, hands stroking over his shoulders, her her a.s.s grinding into his erection. And he wanted a.s.s grinding into his erection. And he wanted her her mouth pressed hard against his as he thrust deep inside her. mouth pressed hard against his as he thrust deep inside her.

A thousand visions of the two of them together spilled into his mind, igniting a rush of memories of the way they'd made love those months they'd been together. Slow and sensual by candlelight one night; swift and rough when he couldn't think of anything but getting inside her as fast as possible the next. He swallowed hard as he continued to watch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rise and fall under her T-s.h.i.+rt and her breathing grow more and more shallow.

The blonde straddled Kat then and leaned close. Her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushed Kat's cotton-covered ones, and she whispered something again in Kat's ear. Mesmerized, Pete s.h.i.+fted for a better view.

Kat's face turned the color of ruby red wine at whatever the woman said, and she moved her head sharply to look his way. Emotions rushed across her features, and a desire he hadn't seen in years flared in the depths of her eyes. And oh, yeah, he knew she was thinking of him.

Then the dancer cupped Kat's cheek, turned her face back to hers and brushed her lips softly against Kat's. Kat flinched, and her eyes went bug-wide, but she didn't fight the gentle kiss.

Pete, however, almost came in his pants.

And just like that, the dance was over.

The music faded, and the blonde leaned back with a victorious smile as she reached for her gown from the floor. "So, big boy. Did you enjoy your show?"

Holy s.h.i.+t, had he.

Pete sat up straight and ran a hand over his face. Jesus, he was sweating. And so juiced he could barely sit still. For the first time, he realized the stripper was wearing nothing but stilettos and a G-string, but he really didn't care as she pulled her clothing back into place. The woman he was solely interested in was suddenly studying the carpet like it might just jump up and bite her.

And he wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't. Considering what had just happened here, he was starting to believe anything was possible.

He stood, careful to tilt his hips and the raging hardon in his pants away from Kat's line of sight as he pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. He had no idea how much he gave the blonde, but he wasn't coherent enough to count right this minute. All his brain activity was focused elsewhere on deflation techniques.

"Is there a back door out of this room?" he asked. His voice sounded like gravel, a clear indication he was turned on to the max. He coughed once to cover it but knew it didn't do jack to make him sound normal. The stripper smiled proudly, like it was all her doing, but it wasn't.

Not even close.

As he waited, the blonde looked down to count the bills in her hand, and her eyes flew open wide, like she'd just hit the mother lode. "Sure, that door there." She nodded toward what he'd thought was simply a wall.

No, not just a wall. A well-disguised door they probably used to kick the touchy-feely guys out of the VIP area. Maybe their luck was improving after all.

Kat stood, careful not to look at either of them, as the blonde pulled a business card she'd hidden like Houdini somewhere in her dress and slipped it into Pete's jacket pocket. "I do private dances, too." She glanced Kat's way and winked. "I like her. Anytime she's up for getting a little wilder, call me. I love threesomes."

Kat's wide-eyed gaze shot up, held on the stripper's face, then jumped to Pete's. He didn't have a clue what she was thinking as color stained her cheeks, but when she quickly jerked toward the hidden door, he knew better than to dawdle and followed right at her heels.

The door slammed shut with an echoing snap. A long white hallway stretched ahead, contrasting sharply with the dim room they'd just been in. Pete blinked several times as his eyes adjusted. m.u.f.fled music seeped into the s.p.a.ce from the club's blaring sound system on the other side of the walls. They made it halfway down the corridor before Kat stopped abruptly and whipped back to face him.

Oh, c.r.a.p. Here it came.

He braced himself for her outrage at what he'd just put her through, but instead of lambasting him with an onslaught of words, she shocked the h.e.l.l out of him by grasping the lapels of his jacket, thrusting him back against the wall and closing her mouth over his in a kiss that nearly sent him to his knees.

The blood rushed out of his head and went due south to pool hard in his groin again. And all rational thought about lies and betrayal and would-be killers slid right out of his head. All he could think about was her and what she was about to do to him.

He just hoped she'd do it fast before he could think of a reason to say no.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Kat was on fire, her blood a screaming roar in her ears. Every inch of her skin burned. But it was nothing compared to the searing need going on deep inside.

She shoved Pete back against the wall and kissed him hard, knowing it was a bad idea but unable to stop. The s.e.xual tension had been building between them for hours, and she was in serious need of release. And at the moment she didn't care how she got it.

His back hit the wall with a thud, and his body tensed as she crushed her chest against his, as their legs and hips came into intimate contact. His arms closed around her waist as she continued to kiss him, more to keep them both from hitting the ground, she knew, than for any other reason. But it still didn't deter her. She was swept up in some insane arousal that consumed every part of her.

Frustrated when it wasn't enough, she pushed her hands beneath his jacket to slide over his hard chest, changed the angle of the kiss and used her tongue to lick the seam of his lips.

He opened as if on reflex, and she used the opportunity to thrust her tongue into his mouth and kiss him deep. Liquid heat rushed through her veins, and she moaned at the first taste. Wanting more, she rotated her hips and rubbed her aching body against the zipper of his jeans.

Something s.h.i.+fted inside him. She felt it in the way his muscles relaxed. Out of nowhere he let out a growl from deep in his throat, and suddenly he was kissing her back. Stroking his tongue hard against hers and tightening his arms around her waist.

Yes, yes, yes. This was what she wanted. She pressed her hips against his again and felt his erection swell inside his jeans. He tilted his head to kiss her deeper, then slid his hands down to cup her a.s.s and pull her tight against him. This was what she wanted. She pressed her hips against his again and felt his erection swell inside his jeans. He tilted his head to kiss her deeper, then slid his hands down to cup her a.s.s and pull her tight against him.

She moaned again and s.h.i.+fted for a better angle so he hit her sweet spot with every rock of his hips. Tingling sensations shot through her core. He continued to kiss her as they rubbed up against each other in the empty hall. She knew if they kept this up she was going to come right there.

Visions of the erotic scene she'd witnessed earlier crashed into her brain, and the stripper's whispered words filtered back through her mind. Look at the way he's watching us. He's not looking at me, he's looking at you. He wants you. Right now. Right here. Would you let him take you here if you could? Look at the way he's watching us. He's not looking at me, he's looking at you. He wants you. Right now. Right here. Would you let him take you here if you could?

Oh, she was about to. She wanted Pete to fill her. Wanted to feel him erupt inside her when he came. She'd seen how turned on he was during that dance. She could feel it now as he hitched her up higher and pushed a hand inside her jacket to grasp her breast through her cotton s.h.i.+rt.

Electricity shot through her skin at the touch, sending a thousand pulsing waves straight to her center. Did it matter that he was only aroused because of what he'd watched? It shouldn't. She'd been aroused by that scene as well. It wasn't what the stripper had done or what the woman had looked like that had made Kat hot, it was the knowledge Pete was watching and enjoying the show. She knew it was wrong to take advantage of his aroused state to get what she wanted from him, but she was beyond caring.

She continued to rub against him, to delve deeper into his mouth with her tongue, to get as close as possible. From somewhere in the back of her mind-though, she fought it like h.e.l.l-common sense pushed through the s.e.xual haze and came to a grinding halt in the front of her brain.

They were standing in the back hall of a seedy strip club, about to have wild, rough, against-the-wall s.e.x. Anyone could walk in on them at any moment. Busir and Minyawi were likely still close by, and if they found them, she and Pete were no better than dead. On top of that, though Pete was obviously sporting a ma.s.sive erection and was kissing her back, she knew deep in her heart he would only regret it later.

It nearly killed her to break the kiss and pull back, but she did. Breathing heavily, she dropped her head to his chest and held on to his coat to steady herself. Just for a minute. Just until she was sure she wasn't going to hit the floor.

His heart thumped hard against her ear, and he drew in ragged breaths like a man starved of oxygen. One of his hands was still wrapped tightly around her waist. The other had slid into her hair, where it was rubbing tiny circles against her scalp as he held her against him and tried to regulate his breathing.

Oh, she wished that was what he was doing. Just holding her tight because she mattered.

Her eyes slammed shut. "I'm sorry. G.o.d, that was...," stupid, idiotic, the best s.e.x I've had in longer than I can remember, stupid, idiotic, the best s.e.x I've had in longer than I can remember, "...not what I meant to do." "...not what I meant to do."

His hand suddenly stilled in her hair. Then he quickly released his hold on both her head and her waist. "Yeah. I'm sure you didn't."

His voice was thick and gravely, but there was a clip to it she hadn't heard before that made her grimace. She was almost afraid of what she'd see on his face when she glanced up.

But she didn't see anything. When she stepped back and looked, he was scrubbing both hands over his eyes. And when he dropped them, it was like a wall had come down.

Though his body still sported signs of arousal, his eyes were flat. She didn't think it was possible to make him think any worse of her than he already did, but after that little nympho attack, she was obviously wrong.

"Pete-"

"Don't sweat it," he said again in a nonchalant voice. "We should go."

That was it?