Page 8 of Shephard

As if proving some unknown point, I repeated the move, catching more than one eye of the closest male customers.

Before any one of them had a chance to make an unwanted comment, I offered my only real smile of the night to the sexy hunk before retrieving the bag of goodies for Pepper.

I’d done exactly what I set out to do.

Confuse a man.

CHAPTER 3

Shephard

“Whew,” some asshole said. He was chuckling that a woman had beaten me in a game I enjoyed. All I had to do was slowly turn my head in his direction and that put the fear of God into him.

The woman’s actions had been surprising. With her mussed-up hair and still wet clothes, someone could mistake the mystery woman for disheveled. But I knew better. She was gorgeous, more so than any other woman I’d seen in one hell of a long time. With copper-colored hair, hazel eyes, and long dark lashes that augmented her stunning and very natural beauty, my balls had remained rock hard.

I’d known all kinds of women in my life, a few I’d gone to bed with, but my cock wasn’t usually at full attention before knowing the woman’s name. Although that was all I’d cared to learn about any of them. Everything about her was natural, including the light, lingering scent of whatever shower gel she’d used.

I had a feeling the girl was tough, refusing to take shit from any man. I admired that more than I cared to admit.

After glancing at the solid bullseye throws, I shook my head. She’d brushed past me when leaving, allowing our upper arms to collide. I didn’t see her as the overtly flirtatious type. But she was pushing my buttons on purpose.

I considered that a challenge.

The ache in my balls only intensified, enough so rather crazy thoughts entered my mind. I was in a dump of an area on a two-lane road basically in the middle of nowhere. I’d never see the girl again. My libido needed to be fed as I hadn’t been with a woman in… shit. Three years at least.

Sure, I could lie to myself that the reason was a product of my past, and that would partially be right. But there were always women in every port and city who wouldn’t mind spending the night with a dangerous man.

Maybe I’d grown mostly out of that behavior.

Mostly.

I sucked on the ice in my glass and made my decision. Taking long strides, I followed her from the bar. It took me all of three seconds to catch a glimpse of where she’d gone. I wasn’t known for being gentle or passionate and tonight wasn’t going to change anything. I was the kind of guy who took what I wanted. I grabbed her arm as proof to myself, spinning her around to face me.

When I shoved her against the outside wall, she immediately tried to attack, slamming her fist close enough to my jaw I was shocked I’d managed to snap my hand around her bent fingers.

“Not so fast, little lady. You should know it isn’t ladylike not to offer a man playing darts an opportunity to redeem himself.” It was the most I’d said to one person in a long time. I didn’t like to talk, had no use for words. Especially in my business when providing any clues as to identity, whereabouts or motives could mean a death sentence.

“I certainly never said I was a lady.”

Her voice was as sultry as the exterior package. My entire body was on fire, the shot of electricity weaving from one to the other damn powerful. I’d followed rules for the majority of my life, but I’d finished with that phase. Now I ate, drank, and did exactly what I wanted. Fuck the concept of consequences.

“It’s obvious you aren’t, but I like that.” I was a man of few words, preferring actions to bullshit conversation. Tonight was no exception.

While the bar had an overhang, the shift in the rain meant the heavy raindrops were now pelting against us. She wasn’t perturbed, mischievous enough to lift her head in defiance to a stranger.

A stranger she’d tormented.

I couldn’t let that go without punishment.

I pushed her arm back to the wall, catching her fingers even though they were still fisted. She obviously had no idea what I was capable of.

The stunning gal would learn soon enough.

With the bag she’d carried wrapped around her other wrist, she wasn’t able to provide herself with adequate protection from a very bad man like me. I was able to wrap the fingers of myother hand around her throat, holding and keeping her in place seconds before I crushed my mouth over hers. She had full lips and the instant hint of wine mixed with my bourbon was heavenly.

Even if I wasn’t that kind of guy.

Rarely did scents or tastes truly get to me. With this woman, my behavior seemed more reckless than normal. What the hell? I was far enough away from the crappy apartment I had rented and my parents couldn’t care less about a son who’d disappeared for years, almost two decades to be exact.

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