her shorts. Yanked them down—the shorts and the small pair of panties that she’d worn. Her bare sex met his hot stare. “Have I told you…” He hardly recognized his own voice. “How good you taste?”
“Joel…”
He spread her legs. Put his mouth on her. He wanted her to come against his mouth. He wanted her to go wild so that he could let his last bit of control go. His tongue lapped at her. Licked. Stroked. His fingers slid into her core.
Her fingers shoved into his hair even as her hips rocked up against him. “Joel!”
Her taste was making him drunk. Her thighs were trembling around him. Her body quaking.
And she was coming… against his mouth, his tongue, just like he’d wanted.
Yes.
He eased back, grabbed a condom, and returned to her as fast as possible. She was slick and eager, and when he put his cock at the entrance to her body, Chloe immediately arched toward him. She took him in, all the way, and he was lost.
No holding back. No being gentle.
Only frantic thrusts. He gripped her hips. Held her too tightly. Thrust and withdrew. Sank into heaven again and again. She was moaning. He growled her name. She was so hot around him. Squeezing so perfectly that he thought he’d lose his mind. He was probably bruising her. He shouldn’t bruise her. He…
She bit his shoulder.
God, that was sexy.
He bit her. A sensual bite on the curve of her shoulder, and she came. He felt the contractions of her sex around him, and he followed her into oblivion. Joel sank into her one more time and exploded as the pleasure consumed him.
***
Cinnamon’s bags were packed and waiting in the trunk of her old car. She’d come back to the club just so that she could get her stash of cash. Sure, she’d been promised payment for the job that she’d done, but unease had settled heavily within her.
I can’t trust him.
She’d done what he’d ordered. Followed his directions exactly. She should have been able to trust him. He was supposed to be one of the good guys, after all. She’d even thought of him as her hero once.
But now I’m not so sure.
So she’d come back to the club. Snuck in the back door and gone for her room. One of the old planks in her floor was loose. She’d discovered that plank during her first week of work. So she’d lifted it up and made herself a little hiding spot. Whenever customers had given her a big tip, she’d put some of the money in that little hole. The club’s owner believed in taking half of her tips. Half. She’d decided to cut him out of the mix. Just a little.
She scooped up the cash. Shoved it in her purse. Then slammed that chunk of wood back into place. It was time to go.
Cinnamon was dying tonight.
The persona was gonna vanish. She’d be Coreen or maybe even someone brand new. She crept down the hallway and went straight for the back door. Cops had been there earlier, getting blood samples and other creepy shit. All because of Chloe Hastings and her partner.
They were trouble.
I don’t want any trouble.
She opened the door. The hot air hit her. Freedom. No one would ever know she’d come back to the club. She’d take her stash and get out of town.
He wouldn’t have to know. He could just keep the money he’d promised her. She didn’t need it. Didn’t need him.
She rushed forward.
“Hello, Coreen.”
Her breath caught. He was there. Near the dumpster. Waiting. Her heart fluttered in her chest even as she had the sudden flash of a frightened bird. Wings flapping too fast. That was her heart. Flapping.
“I have something for you,” he said in his warm, kind voice.
The flapping eased. He had her payment. He was keeping up his end of the deal. She hurried toward him. Her high heels wobbled. “I will never tell anyone.”
“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.”
Too late…she realized he wasn’t holding her money. That wasn’t the something he had. She tried to turn her head away.
Even as she felt the blow hit above her ear.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“My brother didn’t go missing when he was fourteen. He was sent away.”
Chloe had her hand on Joel’s chest. His heartbeat raced beneath her fingers. Her breathing was still unsteady because she was just recovering from the pleasure he’d given her—the pleasure they’d given each other.
The bedroom was in darkness, but moonlight spilled through the glass