Dane - A MacKenzie Novel (4 page)

God, she’d been more turned on just standing
there looking at the bulge beneath his jeans that she’d ever been
having actual sex with Paul or any of her previous lovers. But men
who had that kind of sex appeal usually came with relationship
issues, and she didn’t want to deal with that. She wanted a
partner. A man who could give her friendship, his devotion, his
love
and
orgasms.

Maybe she was being too picky.

Bayleigh tossed the covers back and let the
fan that spun overhead cool her overheated body, and the urge to
skim her fingers across the sensitive tips of her breasts and down
beneath the thin cotton of her boxers had her teeth gritting in
frustration. Damn the man anyway for stirring up her anger and lust
all in the same morning. And now she could expect to spend the rest
of the day not only exhausted due to lack of sleep, but turned on
as well.

Her feet hit the floor and she headed into
the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. She was going to need
it. The lace curtains at her kitchen window weren’t there for
privacy’s sake. Her need to have the light come through her windows
drove her brothers crazy, and they were constantly lowering the
blinds they’d had installed for her every time they visited. But
she felt safe in this neighborhood. Her neighbors were good
people—mostly elderly—and the street itself was beautiful.

Huge oak trees lined the row of cottage style
houses. The sidewalks were cracked and broken with age, and black
antique lights were spaced evenly down both sides of the street.
She liked that her neighbors were nosy and checked up on her, and
she loved that she felt comfortable enough in this place to take
soup to Mrs. Abernathy two houses down when she’d had pneumonia, or
that she had a key to the house across the street so she could
water the plants when Mr. and Mrs. Spillers went to visit their
daughter in Alaska every summer.

This was the first place she’d been able to
call home her whole life. Her parents had never settled more than a
year or two in one spot when she was a kid because of her father’s
job in the military. But the question that was eating at her was
why her neighbor had decided to move here. He didn’t seem like the
type for hearth and home or quiet neighborhoods.

She sipped at her coffee and stared next
door. The moving truck was gone, and a Harley that looked a lot
like its owner—mean and sleek and tough—sat in the driveway. His
house was a 1940’s bungalow and was sided with asbestos shingles.
Diamond-paned windows decorated the front of the house and ivy grew
riotously across every available surface. If it had been for sale
when she’d been looking she would have snapped it up herself.

There were no coverings on his windows and
she wondered what he was doing. If he still had his shirt off.
Damn, she just wanted to look at him one more time, just to assure
herself that he was completely unsuitable. She was such a liar.

“Damn,” she muttered aloud as the alarm clock
in her bedroom blared, letting her know she only had an hour to get
to the shop.

She had a tendency to lose track of time and
the alarm clocks were her way of making sure she stayed on
schedule. Or at least mostly on schedule. Some days were better
than others. She hurried back to the bedroom and took her coffee
with her into the attached bathroom, showering quickly.

By the time she padded back into the bedroom,
a towel hooked securely around her breasts, she’d resigned herself
to at least giving the man next door an apology for her behavior.
She’d get another look at him and appease her conscience at the
same time.

Her shop,
Satin and Lace
, was an
exclusive lingerie boutique in the outdoor shopping center a couple
of miles from the college, and her clientele had certain
expectations when they entered the glass double doors. They
expected quality, sometimes exclusivity, and they always expected
Bayleigh to act as if she didn’t need their business to survive,
which was completely ridiculous. It was a game, and she’d learned
to play it well over the last four years. She also handmade some of
the finer pieces the store offered, and she was damned good at
it.

She dropped her towel and pulled on black
lace panties and the matching bra she’d embroidered with gold
thread. Sometimes the best perk of owning a shop like hers was she
was able to sample the merchandise. Thigh high stockings followed
and she attached them securely to the matching garter belt. She
laid out a black pencil skirt—one that made her legs look a mile
long—and a sexy three-quarter length azul sweater that veed enough
to show a tempting amount of cleavage. It was part of her job to
dress expensively, just as it was part of her job to offer her
clients champagne and hors d’oeuvre’s and have fresh cut flowers
delivered to the shop.

Bayleigh moved to the bay window in her
bedroom and peeked through the sheer lace curtains. She knew no one
could see her. The trees shaded this side of her house, so her
window was cast in darkness. Her window faced the new neighbor’s
deck and part of the master bedroom window, but he was nowhere in
sight.

She was drawn to him. And damned if she could
explain it.

***

Cade let out a slow breath as his neighbor
moved away from the window. He almost hadn’t gotten out of the way
in time, but the sight of her ass in those barely there panties and
garter belt had sweat trickling down his spine and his jaw clenched
with desire. What the hell kind of game was she playing? No woman
dressed like that unless they had seduction on the mind, and a
woman wouldn’t walk around in front of her windows unless she
wanted someone to notice. Since he was the only one there at the
moment, he had to assume he was her target.

His cock was swollen to painful proportions
behind the zipper of his jeans, so he unbuttoned and unzipped them
carefully, releasing his heavy erection into his hand. He hadn’t
been this hard in months—so hard his own touch was almost
unbearable because he was too sensitive.

His balls were drawn up tight and he could
see himself tearing that flimsy lingerie from her body and bending
her over the little dressing table she was currently sitting at,
his fist wrapped around the thick length of her hair as he pushed
inside her.

He stroked himself from shaft to tip,
spreading the drops of pre-cum over the swollen head of his cock.
His back bowed and sweat ran freely down his neck and chest as he
worked his shaft up and down, swirling his hand around the head,
and then repeating the motions again slower so he didn’t come too
soon. The thought of how hot and tight she’d be clamped around him
made his knees weak, and he braced his hand against the windowpane
for balance.

“Have mercy, sweetheart,” he moaned as she
bent over to get the hairbrush she’d dropped on the floor.

The images in his mind shifted until he saw
her on her knees before him, her mouth devouring him and her tongue
driving him wild as his cock hit the back of her throat. The
thought was too much and his balls tightened closer to his body and
his cock seemed to swell in his hand as he pumped faster and
faster. Muscles strained and his heart pounded as semen spurted in
thick streams against the glass. His lungs seized and the need for
oxygen didn’t seem to be as important as it should have. The force
of his orgasm took him by surprise. It had clearly been too long
since he’d had a woman.

Shit
. She was going to complicate his
life, because there was no way in hell he was going to be able to
stay away from her. He’d take her until they burned each other out.
And he was positive whatever sparks there were between them would
eventually die out. The life he led was too dangerous for a serious
relationship. And he was too damaged. As long as she understood his
position from the beginning they could focus on bringing each other
pleasure instead of being tied down by emotions.

He also had to worry about keeping her safe.
It wouldn’t take long for the cartel to realize Cade was interested
in Bayleigh, and starting an affair was the best way to keep her
close. If he could convince her to stay at his house, it would be
even better.

Cade knew Miguel’s son, Carlos, would be the
one heading the cartel’s resurrection, and he’d be the one looking
for revenge against Cade. There had been traces of
Rabbit
,
the deadly drug Miguel’s scientists had developed, found in
different states for the past several years. The occurrences
weren’t frequent and so far they were contained to the southern
states, but they were still there. No, it was too late to cut ties
completely and leave her out of this operation. The best thing to
do would be to draw her in. For her own safety. And for his
satisfaction.

With that decision made, he got his breathing
back under control and cleaned up the mess he’d made before hitting
the shower. He didn’t officially start work until the next day, but
he wanted to go in and talk with his captain, get a feel for the
station. Vice cops didn’t work with partners, and he was grateful
for it. One less person for him to drag down with him if things
went to shit.

Cade dressed casually in a pair of jeans and
a white t-shirt, tossing his old leather jacket over his shoulder
as he grabbed the keys to his motorcycle. Boxes littered the path
to the front door, but damned if he could find the motivation to
start unpacking them. It could wait another day or five. It’s not
like he wasn’t going to be here a while.

The front door locked behind him and his eyes
immediately went next door. He sensed her before he saw her
standing there—the light scent of vanilla clouding his brain,
making him hungry for her. There was no way he could leave her
alone now that she’d given him a preview of that fuck me underwear,
but the wariness was there in his gut, the knowledge that he’d
inadvertently drawn her into something that she hadn’t had a choice
about. He was a bastard for sure, bringing her closer when he
should have been on the phone to her brothers, begging them to take
her away and keep her safe until the cartel was brought down. But
he hadn’t, so it was up to him to keep her safe.

Cade’s body pulsed, dark and hard with desire
as his eyes raked over delicate feet in four-inch stilettos and
wandered up over impossibly long legs. He almost swallowed his
tongue at the way the black skirt hugged her curves and the smooth
flesh of her thighs. His gaze lingered on her full breasts,
remembering the delicate lace that touched her so intimately. Her
nipples were hard and practically begged for his attention, and he
could see the pulse beating rapidly in her throat and the slow
flush of desire working its way up her chest. She wasn’t unaffected
by him, and he wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees in
front of her and see how ready she was for him.

“Are you finished staring?” she asked,
eyebrow quirked in annoyance.

“Are you?” he retorted, returning her look.
“I wouldn’t fight it if I were you.”

“Fight what?”

“The attraction.”

The laugh she snorted out had his lips
quirking.

“My, don’t you have a healthy ego?”

“I’m healthy all over. I’ve even had my
shots.”

Her gaze drifted to the hard-on behind his
zipper, and he wanted nothing more than to touch her when he saw
the need flare in her eyes. He tossed his jacket over the seat of
his bike and walked across the small stretch of grass that divided
their properties.

“Do you spend a lot of time spying on your
neighbors through your kitchen window?” he asked, bringing the
sparkle back to her eyes he’d dimmed earlier that morning. God, she
was beautiful when she was mad.

Her cheeks heated and her eyes blazed like
brilliant sapphires. “My kitchen window looks out on the whole
neighborhood, and I don’t spy on my neighbors. I was actually going
to apologize for my behavior this morning, but it looks like my
first impression of you was accurate. So you, whoever you are, can
go back to your cave, where I’m sure you eat puppies for breakfast
and toss children into deep holes. Jerk.”

“Did you mean to say all of that out loud?
You seem like the type of woman who was raised with better manners
than that.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Her eyes narrowed and her body practically
crackled with anger. Her fists were bunched at her sides and he
wondered if she was going to try and hit him. She had a hell of a
temper, and damned if that didn’t turn him on.

“My name is Cade. Cade MacKenzie.”

“Who the hell cares? As far as I’m concerned
you should be called Lucifer. You have the manners of a troll.”

“And you have a hell of a temper. Maybe you
should try anger management classes.”

The little growl she let out made him want to
push her against her Land Rover and hike that little skirt around
her waist. He knew she’d be wet for him.

“I only have a temper when I’m faced with
inconsiderate reprobates before dawn. Get a haircut and a job, and
stop picking on innocent bystanders. This is a nice neighborhood.
We won’t stand for criminal activity around here.”

“What does the length of my hair have to do
with anything? Are you on medication?”

She took a step closer and poked him in the
chest, and he felt his cock swell to impossible proportions beneath
his jeans. Damn, she turned him on. If she had half this much
energy in bed she would wear him out in no time.

“Stay out of my way, MacKenzie, or the next
time I see you it won’t be keys I’m throwing at your head.”

Cade took hold of the hand that was thumping
into his chest and pulled her closer, so their bodies aligned and
she could feel the hardness of his cock against her belly. Her eyes
widened and her pupils dilated so only a thin ring of blue could be
seen. She licked her lips nervously, leaving a glossy sheen against
her lipstick, tempting him like no woman had tempted him
before.