Bullet Proof (B-Squad 0.50)

It was like a dam broke in her and she cried out in relief as she circled her clit with lightning speed as she sucked his finger dry. One. Two. Three—The wave crashed against her, the orgasm hitting hard and fast and leaving nothing in its wake. Her cry of ecstasy echoed off the concrete walls as she screamed his name. This might have started as his fantasy, but it had ended as hers.

Resting her forehead on the Porsche's hood, she concentrated on catching her breath and not melting into a boneless mess onto the floor in the Devil's Dip Gym garage. Standing up was so not what she wanted, but considering how well the Porsche had been restored, she highly doubted he'd want her to curl up on it and go into a post-orgasm coma.

Calling on all her reserves, she straightened and turned to face the man who had so thoroughly rocked her world without even fucking her. "That was amaz—" The rest of the word died on her tongue. Taz's eyes were so dilated that only a thin ring of green remained around the black pupil. "What are you on?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." He tucked his cock in his pants and zipped up. "I'm not going to tell you what to do with your life, but if you're serious about training at my gym you need to cut that shit. Now."

What the hell? He'd driven while high and he was giving her a lecture? Now that was some bullshit. "I'm not on anything. I barely even drank any of the champagne at the Bisu; it just gave me something to hold on to. You must be so high you're seeing things."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and marched her over to the passenger side door and pointed at the side mirror. "Take a look for yourself."

Bending over, she looked at her reflection and her stomach bounced against the garage floor. Her eyes were a mirror copy of Taz's but with a thin line of brown instead of green around the pupil.

Oh. Fuck.

Looking at his reflection in the side mirror, Taz muttered something that sounded a lot like motherfucker. If he hadn't taken anything voluntarily and she hadn't, that left only one explanation.

"They drugged us." The words tasted raw and ugly on her tongue.

"How?" He shoved his hands through his curly hair. "I didn't have anything to drink or eat."

The night's events raced through her mind. The doorman taking her coat. The waiters with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The soft lighting, smooth jazz, and glistening, naked bodies. The rare orchid centerpieces that didn't have a scent. That was it. "The roses. Did you smell them? There weren't any roses in the foyer or salon."

His eyes widened with understanding. "Aerosol delivery. The Davies-Smythes walked out of the salon right before the fans kicked on and I started smelling roses really strong."

The bastards. They wouldn't get away with this. "We have to go to the police."

"With what?" Taz looked down at her, raising one eyebrow with patronizing scorn. "We have no proof."

"They can test our blood." She jabbed a finger into his chest to emphasize each word.

He swatted her hand away as if she were as consequential as a fly. "And who's to say we didn't take the drugs ourselves?"

Why did he have to be such an asshole about this? Witnesses, they'd need witnesses. Good thing there were at least fifty of them. "The other people at the party—"

"Will never acknowledge being there. They do and their invitation is permanently revoked. This is their kink, their release, they're not going to give that up without a damn good reason for it."

"Being drugged isn't enough?" she asked, her voice booming in the otherwise silent garage.

"For that crowd?" He laughed. It was not a nice sound. "Not even close."

"Nice friends you've got."

"They're not my friends," he said. "They're people I fuck."

Heat blasted up from her toes. Shame. Anger. Hurt. A deadly mix of all three. And this is why she had a battery-operated boyfriend who didn't say stupid shit that made her nose itch and her eyes tear up. Clenching her jaw tight, she inhaled what she hoped was a calming breath that would allow her to get her shit together before she grabbed her purse out of the car and called a taxi.

"Well, I guess that puts me in my place." She grabbed her dress off the floor and stepped into it before turning so her back was to him. "Can you zip me up? I don't feel like giving the cabbie a show."

He didn't move. "You're not going anywhere until we figure out what we've gotten ourselves into."

/> Oh, she would be doing just that, but she wasn't going to deal with him while she did. "I work better on my own."

She could find Gidget and figure out what was going on at Bisu Manor all by herself. Resisting the urge to flip him off, she reached behind herself, stretching her arms and contorting her body so she could reach the gown's zipper. But before she knew what was happening, he'd grabbed the back of her dress and ripped it clean down the back seam. It fell off her shoulders and to the floor.

Spinning on her heel, she pressed both hands against his solid chest and shoved. Hard. "You asshole."

Taz didn't move an inch or say anything, but the look on his face made her take a step backward. It wasn't far enough. He wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, then threw her over his shoulder.