Page 58 of Crashed
“And you were hard to miss.” The guy moved in close, and she had no choice but to take a step back or he’d be all up in her personal space. “I was hoping I’d see you again.
Can I have a word?”
“Nope. I have somewhere to be.” She went to move past again, but he took the drinks from her hands and placed them on the unmanned reception desk near the elevator.
“What the hell?”
He straightened his tie and gave her a lopsided grin. “I think you might be interested in what I have to say. I’ve been looking for someone in your line of business, actually, but haven’t found the right fit, so to speak. I think you and I might get on just fine.”
Unease turned to relief, then excitement. Deacon must have told him about West Restoration, which meant he obviously knew the guy. She shrugged off the way her creep-o-meter was wailing and joined him by the reception desk. “Look, I know the competition in this city is fierce, but I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer. In fact, they always come back.” She was no Rusty when it came to this stuff—that woman had the gift of gab—but she was no slouch.
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she automatically crossed her arms. Maybe he just liked Iron Maiden? The T-shirt was old and fitted. She glanced down and her face heated when she realized crossing her arms caused the fabric to cling and show off the outline of her barbell.
“God, that’s so sexy. Damn.” He moved closer. “What’s your rate, sweetheart?”
Her ease vanished, and her empty stomach churned. “It depends on what you want done,” she answered cautiously.
“I want a whole night. Maybe a regular thing? I get the feeling one night with you wouldn’t be enough. Deacon West keeps coming back for more, so you must be worth whatever your fee is.”
He thinks I’m a prostitute? He touched her hip, and she shoved him back. “You are way the hell out of line.”
She tried to move past him, but he grabbed her arm, crowded her. “Don’t be like that. You want to be wined and dined first? I can do that. My money’s just as good as West’s.”
Before she had the chance to knee him in the balls, he was being wrenched back, arms wind-milling to prevent himself from falling on his ass. Deacon, looking like he was capable of murder, wrapped his hand around the other guy’s throat and shoved him against the nearest wall. “You touch her again, and I will kill you. Do you understand?”
The guy screwed his face up. “You want the whore all to yourself, you can have her. Plenty more where she came from.”
Murder flashed in Deacon’s eyes.
“Deacon. No!”
He completely ignored her, pulled back, and slammed his fist into the creep’s face. The crunch of bone shattering made her wince, as did the blood that splattered across Deacon’s white shirt.
The guy howled and covered his nose. “Jesus Christ!
You broke my nose!”
Deacon ignored him and turned to her. “Elevator, now.”
When she stood unmoving, still in shock, he grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him, pulling her in before the door closed. “What the hell, Deacon?”
His jaw was granite, and when he looked down at her there was no warmth or affection in his hard gaze. He didn’t speak, not until they were in his apartment, after he’d dragged her into his bedroom. She stood on the opposite side while he tugged his shirt from his trousers, undid the first few buttons, and pulled it over his head, throwing it across the room.
“One man not enough for you, Alex?”
The emotion behind his words felt like a physical blow.
Anger she could handle, though she sure as hell didn’t deserve it. But it wasn’t just anger radiating from him—no, there was pain as well. And the expression on his face twisted her up inside.
“I come down to find you with that asshole…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “After last… After what we…” He growled, shook his head.
After last night?
Was that what he was going to say? She crossed her arms over her chest, more hurt and angry than she’d been in her life, which should be impossible, but there you go. How could he still doubt her? “I was not with that asshole, he followed me.”
“Yeah?” The raw emotion in his voice had not diminished, not even a fraction.
She moved closer to him, her own anger sailing over pissed and landing somewhere in the vicinity of rage.
