His Wicked Ways. Joanne Rock

took far more pleasure with the upper hand here than he would have on the gym mats earlier. Vanessa Torres might have slammed him to his knees with a kick, but he’d have her melting to hers with a kiss in no time at all. And damn, but that victory tasted sweet.

      He speared his fingers into the loosened hair that escaped her braid, testing the silky length of the rebellious strands. Anchoring her to him by cupping the back of her head, Alec took pleasure in the sure movement of her fingers up and down his spine. His sides. His hips.

      He’d never met a woman so certain of herself and ready to claim what she wanted. When her fingers strayed below the belt line, his satisfaction increased tenfold.

      That is, until she reached even lower. And lower.

      What the hell?

      Thrusting her away, he gripped her shoulders with both hands, his anger back with a vengeance.

      “If you’re trying to frisk me now, woman, let me spare you the trouble.” Yanking her wrist forward, he steered her palm to rest on the only weapon he carried. “Thanks to you, I’m damn well armed.”

      4

      OVER FOUR YEARS had passed since the last time Vanessa had cradled a man’s erection in her palm. Four long years without sex of any kind.

      And yet, she could hardly appreciate the solid strength of him straining beneath her palm. Not when his dark eyes captured her attention so thoroughly.

      Anger lurked there. Deep, dark and dangerous, the shades of cold fury in his brown eyes compelled her stare. Her curiosity. What gave a man such a fierce aspect, especially when he had been kissing her with enough heat to melt a normal woman’s insides just a few moments ago?

      Clearing her throat, Vanessa shifted her grip on the front of his jeans—and realized his hand no longer imprisoned hers there. How long had she been touching him of her own free will?

      Yanking her hand back, she commanded her breathing back to normal. Slow and steady.

      “That’s quite a piece you’re carrying.” Cool and easy. She couldn’t let him rile her any more than he already had.

      “Yeah? You just let me know if you’d like a closer look and I’ll be sure to accommodate you.” Bending, he scooped up his bag and reached for her hand. “Right now, we need to get the hell out of here before somebody finds us.”

      Or before Vanessa jumped this guy’s bones—regardless of where he stood in terms of the law.

      “Do you have a car nearby?” She moved to follow him, Converse squeaking on the gymnasium floor. Night had fallen while they’d talked, and already she felt squeamish about heading out onto the streets in this part of town.

      “Private underground parking.” He led her through a darkened front lobby and down a back corridor full of paint cans and spattered scaffolding. “One of the perks of revamping the place myself.”

      Arriving at an elevator bay, he opened the doors and inserted a pass card in the panel to access a basement level. Vanessa held her breath as the electronic doors swished shut behind them, sealing them in the private, close quarters. She didn’t need to catch the male scent of him, her senses already too attuned to his movements, his body.

      “You think the rec center is going to make a difference around here?” Determined not to think about the fact she’d just recently had her hand on this guy’s crotch, she concentrated on how they were going to get out of the Bronx.

      She’d seen so many fights on these streets from the safety of her bedroom window growing up. Her grandmother had raised both Vanessa and her sister since their teenage mom had been more interested in getting high than taking care of her kids. Which was just fine with Vanessa since Nana was the coolest lady in their housing complex, with a good job at the local dry cleaners and a knack with tools that made all the tenants vie for Nana’s help with repairs the superintendent ignored.

      But even Nana, a major kick-ass grandma, had taken every precaution never to send her girls out of the house alone. The South Bronx—especially in those days before urban renewal—was a damn scary place to live.

      “Why would I waste my time building this place if I didn’t think it was going to help?” Alec shrugged, palms up. “You think I’m an idiot? I know what it’s like here. But if the center gives five kids a safe place to hang out and grow up, I think that’s making a pretty damn big difference.”

      She hadn’t expected that kind of clear-eyed thinking from someone who must have dumped a small fortune into a facility that would be covered with graffiti and crawling with homeless people in less than six months.

      The elevator chimed as it reached the basement, the doors sliding open to the dank, stale air of an underground garage. A small fluorescent light blinked on a cement pillar between the only two cars in the small area. Two other spaces remained vacant.

      “A Mercedes and a Ford Focus.” Vanessa eyed the two vehicles, the S600 sedan shouting money and the Ford quietly announcing practicality. “My guess is an uptown guy like yourself needs the Mercedes.”

      “They’re both mine.” He pressed a button on his key ring and unlocked the doors on the big sedan. “You want me to give you a lift somewhere? If you drove up here, you don’t want to stay parked on the streets overnight.”

      Her heart drummed in her chest at his choice of wording. They might be working into the night, but she definitely didn’t need to categorize her time with him as an “overnight.” No sense giving her long-slumbering libido any false hope since she planned to squash it with all due haste.

      “I took the subway.” She hadn’t wanted to drive out here today since the locals had a knack for picking out police automobiles, even the unmarked vehicles. She’d planned on calling a patrol car to pick up Alec if she’d been able to talk him into coming in for questioning.

      It might not be wise to go anywhere with him, but seeing him with those kids tonight—trying to make a difference in their lives—had squeezed something unexpected inside her. She and her sister would have given anything to have had someone besides Nana root for them, teach them how to protect themselves, just spend time with them.

      “So you’re okay with getting in the car with me?” He opened the passenger-side door for her, clearly shocked she would venture into his private terrain.

      Damn it, she hadn’t broken with police procedure once in five years. She could afford to take a chance tonight as long as she was armed. Ready.

      “Let me put it this way—you’re driving. I have a gun.” She edged past him, eager to retrieve some of her usual calm. “I think I’ll manage.”

      Her body registered the heat of Alec’s as she brushed past him, the spike in her temperature becoming more predictable the longer she spent time around him. She couldn’t even think about the kiss they’d shared without her brain short-circuiting. At this point, she was more concerned with maintaining reasonable, professional distance from him than protecting herself from possible violence at his hands.

      After all, she knew exactly what kind of heat he was packing, and it wouldn’t kill her. It might drive her insane with pleasure, but clearly, she’d survive.

      Then again, it might leave her as cold inside as she’d been for the past five years since her sister’s body hit the pavement in a drive-by, and that scared her almost as much as the thought of finding pleasure in Alec’s bed.

      She didn’t realize Alec had knelt down beside the passenger seat, his tall body doubled up so he could look at her on eye level, until he leaned almost into her line of vision.

      “You sure you’re okay?” He’d gotten close to her again. Breast-tingling close. Mouthwatering close.

      And oh God, she’d messed up big time by coming to the Bronx without her partner, a rational voice of reason, at her side. She was getting sucked into old fears, old guilt and major sexual