Lover Undercover (McCade Brothers 1)

“Fine and dandy. VIP room three. Ramon’s already there.” With that, Vern lumbered off.

“Fine and dandy,” she repeated under her breath, and prayed to God it would be. Obviously Trevor had made it into the club in one piece, but if the next few minutes went as planned, there was no guarantee he’d stay that way.

Stomach churning with dread, she made her way across the still-crowded club to the VIP room and tried to mentally prepare for next phase of the plan. She took a deep breath and slipped inside. There he sat, looking so big and tough and good, she suddenly longed for the days when all she had to do was straddle his lap, strip off a few articles of clothing, and touch him to her heart’s content. When their eyes met, his darkened, hinting maybe he had the same thought.

Then he began a long, slow perusal of the slutty schoolgirl, starting with her patent leather Mary Jane platforms, ascending along her black thigh-high stockings, sweeping up the twin bands of skin exposed between the tops of the stockings and the bottom of her very short pleated plaid skirt.

She sauntered over and straddled him with a bravado she didn’t feel. His gaze snagged on the hot-pink panties visible beneath the hiked-up hem of her skirt, and despite her worry over this so-called plan, her trigger-happy hormones sent a rush of heat straight to the spot.

His warm hands found her cold midriff, bared between the low waist of her skirt and white blouse tied just under her breasts. One small flex of his wrists settled her squarely on his lap—on him. He lowered his hands to his sides, leaned close, and rubbed his lips along her neck.

“Are you okay?”

She stuck with a nod.

He eased back and looked at her, as if seeking some better confirmation. She took a deep breath, which caused her breasts to brush against his chest. His attention immediately dropped to where the unbuttoned shirt and

hot-pink bra offered up her breasts for his inspection.

Her nipples sprang to attention under his gaze.

“Jesus, Kylie, you’re beautiful,” he breathed against her ear, left totally exposed by her low pigtails. She’d never appreciated how vulnerable and sensitive her ear was. His voice penetrated the coiled canal, vibrating over invisible receptors, sending shivers to all the other invisible receptors in her body.

“Don’t be scared,” he went on, misinterpreting the reason for her physical reaction, but nonetheless nailing her emotional state. “We’ve got this is in the bag. You ready?”

No. She nodded.

“Okay. Make it look good.” He curved his arm around her, locked his hand along the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him.

“Let go of me!” she yelled, and followed the outburst with a slap. She’d never hit anyone before in her life, and her first attempt went wide of the target. Instead of connecting with his cheek, her palm glanced off his chin.

He played it up anyway, bringing his hand to his chin as if she’d actually hurt him, pinning her with a shocked, angry glare. “Crazy bitch,” he growled.

She scrambled off his lap, exactly as he’d instructed, and ran to the door.

“Hey!” Ramon spoke up from the corner—his usual slow, lazy response.

Kylie yanked the door open, shouted, “Leave me alone,” and slammed it behind her, effectively capturing the attention of every customer and employee in the vicinity. A second later Trevor barreled through the door and strode toward her until they stood toe-to-toe.

“I’m not paying for the dance unless you finish it.”

This time she landed the blow. Her palm cracked against his cheek. His head swiveled on his neck. The impact shimmied down her arm. “Consider it finished!”

Straightening, he said, “We’re not finished until I say we’re finished,” and shoved her. She staggered backward and let her leg give out beneath her, hoping her tumble didn’t look too controlled. No worries, as it turned out. She accidently upended a table on her way down. Customers scrambled and drinks went flying. Lee Ann screamed. Benny charged across the now-chaotic floor and reached Trevor at the same time as Ramon.

She held her breath as they grappled, but after a brief, intense struggle, the bouncers wrangled their quarry face-first into the wall. Vern materialized and said something to Benny. Benny nodded, and with a jerk of his beefy arm, yanked a convincingly conquered Trevor away from the wall. He and Ramon escorted him to the exit.

Vern extended a hand to her, grunting as he helped her to her feet. “Please don’t tell me I gotta call the paramedics for you again.”

“Stop fussing. You’ll embarrass me.”

“Okay then.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost last call. Pack it in for the night if you want. Just get me your tip-out before you leave.”

“Thanks, Vern,” she called over her shoulder, already on a beeline to the dressing room. Luckily, she held herself together until the door closed behind her. Then she collapsed into her chair and turned into a sobbing, shaking mess. Anybody coming in would probably assume they were witnessing her delayed reaction to the altercation. In actuality, she was practically incapacitated with worry for Trevor.

According to the plan, after being ejected from the club, he’d get in his car, drive away, and return a few minutes before closing to stalk the parking lot—like an angry client looking for her. Deuces cleared out pretty quickly after close, so while some of the staff might see him on their way to their cars, there’d still be plenty of time for someone waiting in the darkness to take a swing at him.

Her instructions were to leave the club early and drive home, but she found she couldn’t do it. How was she supposed to sit at home while Trevor risked his life? Home was too far away. If something happened to him she wouldn’t know until Ian thought to call her, and that might be…too late.