Wound Up. Kelli Ireland

balls tightened at the command. So she was listening to the song, was she?

      He grinned, putting every ounce of predatory sensuality into it he could muster as he rose to his knees and got in her face. “You’ll regret that.”

      “Make me.”

      “Done.” Raw, sexual hunger surfed the arousal flooding his veins. Wave after wave of desire pulsed through him. Crawling around her, he prowled up her body slowly, bent to her ear and breathed, “Please.”

      A hard shiver worked through her.

      Justin pulled her into his arms and switched places with her, settling her across his lap. Hips thrusting, he pantomimed raw sex as his hands ran down her hips. The heat of her sex bled through his thin pants and he wanted nothing more than to touch her there, to find out if she was as wet as he wanted her to be. His hands shook. “Please,” he said, louder this time.

      Smooth hands ran over his chest.

      He lifted his chin and watched her. The way her eyes locked on his torso, the way her fingertips traced every contour of his body—it fueled his need for her. Wrapping his arms around her ass, he surged to his feet.

      Her eyes widened, locking on his.

      Moving his face toward hers was natural. He leaned in until their lips almost touched. “Please.” The whispered plea made their lips touch for a split second, but it was enough. She tasted like fresh lime, tart and sweet. Such a heady mix.

      She gasped as he spun and set her in the chair again. Moving away, he toed his shoes off one at a time, kicking them clear and, with his back to the crowd, ripped his pants off.

      She sank her teeth into her bottom lip even as her nostrils flared. The message was clear. She wanted him.

      So he danced for her.

      Facing Grace, he went to his knees and ran his hands over his body. He rolled a finger out and curled it in a “come here” motion.

      She stood and walked toward him with exaggerated steps, her movements in perfect sync with the music. The way she moved, all sultry confidence, made his blood boil. When she reached him, he settled on his heels and pulled her forward to straddle him. He thrust upward, sliding his free hand up her front. Then he slid through her legs, jumped up and moved in behind her. Gripping her hips, he bent her forward some and folded his body over hers, settling his erection in the crevice of her ass.

      She shivered.

      Or it might have been him.

      The music ended and the lights went out.

      He grabbed her hand and headed for the wings. She kept up, never balking, and he was relieved. Hunger burned low in his gut. He wanted her so badly he was terrified he might actually throw her over his shoulder and run away with her. To where, he had no idea. Probably the first hotel he came across.

      The Spartan decor of the back of the stage was at total odds with the plush interior out front. They nearly ran down a long corridor, his hand clinging to hers. Several performers called out greetings as they passed.

      He ignored them.

      Without warning, he slid to a stop and pulled her into a corner.

      Grace crashed into him.

      Justin spun, grabbed her and pressed her up against the wall. “I need you.”

      Wide, green eyes stared up at him, her pupils blown with desire. “Feeling’s mutual.”

      Twining their fingers together, he dragged her hands over her head. She arched into him, and he groaned. His lips met hers in a desperate duel for dominance. Her mouth offered endless pleasure while her body smelled like sin. She rubbed against him, hooking one leg around his as he wedged a thigh between hers. Her soft mewl was nearly his undoing.

      He craved her so badly and felt slightly guilty for dragging her back here without even talking to her first. If someone had treated either of his little sisters this way? Hell, he’d kill them. The shock of his behavior washed over him as effectively as a bucket of ice water. This was no way to treat a woman he liked and respected, a woman he’d wanted to ask out for three years. Jerking back, he stared down at her, panting. “I’m sorry.”

      “No talking.” She leaned up and reclaimed his mouth, nipping his bottom lip before soothing the sting with the tip of her tongue. “Not yet.”

      He pulled away. “I don’t do this. Ever.”

      She sighed, and relaxed against the wall. “Believe it or not, neither do I.”

      Dropping his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes. “Want to get out of here?”

      “Yeah.”

      “I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”

      She kissed him quickly. “Make it eight.” Then she pulled her hands free and slipped under his arm, heading back the way they’d come, hips swaying hypnotically.

      “Door to the club’s on the right,” he called.

      She raised a hand in acknowledgment but never slowed down.

      With a huff, he pushed off the wall and jogged toward the locker room.

      He figured he had six minutes to come up with a decent plan that ended with her naked in his arms.

      He’d borrow Levi’s car, though it rankled that he didn’t have his own. They could go to a late dinner. Maybe add something fun in there. Or a trip to his favorite dessert place for something sweet. The little restaurant he had in mind wasn’t fancy but it was intimate. They could talk. He could show her he was better than the sum of his behavior so far tonight.

      A dark smile spread across his face as he headed for his locker.

      Maybe he’d go straight for the kill shot and try to talk her into breakfast...tomorrow morning.

      * * *

      GRACE SLIPPED TO her table where her girlfriends were chattering like songbirds.

      Meg reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Holy crap, girl! You’re the luckiest woman I know.”

      “Yeah?” She grabbed her purse. “I’m about to get luckier.”

      “Shut up.” Lynn, a close friend, leaned across the table. “You aren’t going out with him.”

      “Nope.” She grinned and let the wickedness of her thoughts show. “I have the distinct impression we’ll be spending the evening in.”

      Meg whooped and Lynn laughed. Gretchen, the most levelheaded of the group, sipped her drink and watched Grace over the rim of her glass. “You think this is a good idea? You don’t know him.”

      “I actually sort of do.” They clamored for more information, but she waved them off. “We met in the psychology department. No, I had no idea he danced here. Yes, he’s a fantastic kisser. No, you won’t get more details than that, so don’t ask.” She looked at Gretchen. “Just this once, I want to live a little.”

      Gretchen nodded. “I get that. I do.” She took another sip, her brow furrowing as Grace watched. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you could do worse than living it up with a stripper.”

      The muscles in Grace’s neck tightened and made her nod sharp. “Right.”

      All three women were silent at her words. That they felt sorry for her chafed. Her chin went up. “I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

      Gretchen lifted her glass, the casual gesture at direct odds with the concern reflected in her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful. Oh, and take my smartphone. Your by-the-minute phone is great if you have time to call for help, but in the event he’s an ax murderer? It’s useless. I’ll turn on the ‘find me’ feature so I can recover your body if necessary.”

      Grace accepted the phone as she stood. “I