Darcy nodded, blinking back tears. Joe had saved her a.s.s. "Did-did he say if he was coming back?"

"He's got a lot to think about, but I told him his job was still waiting here for him." Springer raised a bushy eyebrow. "h.e.l.l, partnering with vamps might be the wave of the future."

Phil slipped an arm around her shoulder. "Tough break, Da.r.s.e."

Murmurs of sympathy from around the table made Darcy feel about two feet tall.

Max's steady glare was the only exception.

Does he suspect the truth? She straightened her shoulders. "Captain, do we have any leads on where Nicky Powell is now?"

"Unfortunately, he's gone to ground. But he can't stay there long. We found a stash of money in the house at South Beach Park. He can't go far without scoring more."

"Any clues how he'll put the money together again?" Phil asked.

Captain Springer's face lit with mirthless glee. "Word on the street is he approached a Jamaican drug runner to offer his special services to develop a new market and distribute the drugs."

Max cursed. "That's all we need. I suppose he's planning to make his own ring of pushers, too?"

"You got it," Captain Springer said.

"How do we know so much about his plans?" Darcy asked. The captain seemed entirely too pleased with himself. His cheeks were florid, and satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.

"We received the info straight from the horse's mouth. Seems the drug lord isn't pleased with his new partner."

"Who'd he go to?" Darcy asked.

"Rupe King."

Smiles lifted the tension in the room. Nicky Powell had made a fatal mistake.

Later that night...

"Why is it fortuitous Nicky approached that particular drug dealer?" Quentin nuzzled Darcy's neck, finding it impossible to keep his attention on what she was saying. What she was doing filled his senses. And her scent...

Her sweat-ripened musk lured him like a hound to a fox. He lapped moisture from her neck.

Darcy gripped his chin and brought his face level with hers. "Pay attention."

"Are we ready again?" He circled his hips under her to check for the depth of penetration.

Darcy rolled her eyes and pushed his hands from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the leather-upholstered sofa. "Business first."

"Of course." He smiled. "I love our conversations regarding commerce."

"I knew letting you distract me when we came inside the house was a mistake."

"To be precise, we came inside the car first. And what's this about letting you do anything? As I remember it, you left quite a few items of clothing on the lawn in your mad dash for the door."

He enjoyed Darcy's rosy-cheeked embarra.s.sment immensely. Only, she hadn't shown a hint of shyness when she'd shoved him down onto the sofa and climbed onto his lap. Nor had she blushed when she'd spread her legs wide around his hips and sank on his c.o.c.k.

After she'd taken him, she'd been in an annoyingly chatty mood.

"If you'll just give me two minutes, I'll explain everything."

"I'll give you nine inches."

"Huh! Is that all?"

"Give me a reason to exert myself farther," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were his barometers. He had only to watch the changes there to gauge her arousal. Her face was never as transparent. Even now, her chest was flushed pink. Time to escalate his seduction.

His hand rose to a tightly budding nipple. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, making her hips react. She couldn't help herself-he could tell by the ferocious frown she wore that she wanted to resist.

Simply watching her move on him, taking her pleasure of his body, pleased him. Her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggled with each bounce. Her taut abdomen and sleekly muscled thighs clenched as she levered herself up and down. He could watch his c.o.c.k disappear inside her pretty, dark-furred mound for an eternity.

"d.a.m.n you," she moaned. "I'll never get my point across."

"Wouldn't you rather I did?" He flexed his hips to spear upward.

She gasped. "Just hold that thought." Again, she circled on his c.o.c.k, driving him crazy with her tight twist and bounce. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her small white teeth bit her bottom lip.

Quentin gripped her a.s.s, his fingers splayed to "persuade" her to pick up the pace and height of her movements.

Darcy accepted his guidance with enthusiasm, moaning louder the harder and faster she bounced.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the front door push open. He stiffened, ready to toss Darcy to the side. Then he recognized the pair who appeared in the doorway.

Dylan O'Hara's expression reflected his wicked amus.e.m.e.nt at having found Quentin occupied.

Emmy Harris winked and held her finger to her lips. The two stood in the well of the foyer and waited for Quentin to finish.

Cursing beneath his breath, Quentin slid his hand beneath Darcy's hair and tipped her face to his.

She kissed him, and then murmured a protest when he gently tugged her back.

"We have visitors."

"Let's not answer the door," she groaned and ground her p.u.s.s.y over his c.o.c.k.

"Ahem." His ex-best friend, Dylan, cleared his throat. "You left the front door open."

Darcy screeched and swung her head around.

Emmy raised her hand and fluttered her fingers. "Hi there. We're not interrupting anything, are we?"

Chapter Nine.

Minutes later, Quentin's ears still rang from Darcy's loud scream. If he hadn't been so annoyed at the interruption only moments from o.r.g.a.s.m, he might have laughed at how quickly the woman had sprung from the sofa and his c.o.c.k and hidden in the bedroom.

Dylan, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, had seated himself on the sectional, his arms outstretched, and waited while Quentin picked up his clothes and dressed. The cad didn't bother to even try to hide his devilish smile.

Emmy's bright, inquisitive stare embarra.s.sed Quentin, because she made no bones about the fact her gaze was glued to his c.o.c.k. She might even have mumbled something like, "I knew it was one of those vampire things-you're all hung like horses."

When the lower part of his anatomy was clothed, Quentin flopped down on the sofa. "Dylan, I thought we'd agreed Emmy needed to be kept safe. Nicky's suffered a setback and is more dangerous than ever."

Dylan shrugged. "She wore me down."

"Yup! To a nubbin." Emmy grinned. "Now he can't satisfy me, so I'll have to find my kicks elsewhere."

"Well, come over here, sweetheart." Quentin opened his arms, feeling playful and fully enjoying his friend's jealous glare.

Emmy crossed the short distance and settled her shapely hips onto his lap. She leaned toward him and kissed his cheek.

"Uh huh!" Quentin pressed a finger beneath her chin and held her motionless while he gave her lips a wet, smacking kiss.

"Now, see here!" Dylan said, his voice laced with irritation. "Get your lips off my wife."

Quentin broke the kiss. His eyebrows shot high. "You're married? Now I really must kiss the bride." He bent her over his arm and pressed his lips to hers, again.

Emmy giggled and clutched his neck, and giggled louder when Dylan growled another warning.

When Quentin came up for air, he slung his arms around her and continued to hold her in his lap. "Have to hand it to you, Dylan. Your Emmy is all woman. I can see why you'd want to stake your claim. But, Emmy, what do you see in this Paddy?"

Emmy's cheeks flushed with pleasure, and her eyes softened when she gazed at Dylan. "He's my big, bad wolf. He scares the h.e.l.l out of me when he's making love."

Quentin understood her perfectly. Darcy scared the h.e.l.l out him. His need for her grew stronger by the night. "So, when did you two marry?"

"On our way here-in Vegas!"

Quentin released a bark of laughter. "Tell me you didn't..."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Oh yes!"

Emmy's smile was beatific. "Elvis himself did the honors singing 'Hunk, Hunk Burning' Love'!"

Quentin's mouth stretched with an unholy grin. "Must be love."

Shamefaced, Dylan shrugged. "What can I say? She had me by the short-hairs at 10,000 feet."

"Oooh!" Emmy bounced on his lap, her excitement impossible to contain. "Do you know what the 'Mile-High Club' is?"

Quentin quirked an eyebrow at his best friend.

"Navarro leant us his ten-seater to fly here. Emmy seduced a meal out of the steward, and he told her about the club."

"You make it sound like I had s.e.x with the man," Emmy said, her lips pursed in an adorable pout.

"d.a.m.n close enough. He came in his pants!"

"I had to give him something in exchange."

"In exchange?" Quentin asked, knowing the answer. He was sure he'd enjoy Emmy's version better.

"For his blood, silly. Besides, he was wearing an ap.r.o.n. No one but he and I knew. Except nosy over there. Of course, Dylan had to initiate me afterward-in the bathroom, the galley-"

"He gets the idea, love," Dylan said smoothly.

The bedroom door creaked open behind Quentin, and the scent of raspberry soap wafted over him. Darcy had showered. Quentin's c.o.c.k twitched.

"I think you have the wrong woman in your lap," Emmy said slyly. She rose and walked toward Darcy. "I'm Emmaline Harris-"

"O'Hara!" Dylan reminded her.

"That rude man is my husband, Dylan O'Hara," Emmy said, wrinkling her nose. "We're friends of Quentin's. Friends of the night, if you know what I mean."

Quentin turned to watch the exchange. Darcy had dressed in a faded gray sweatshirt with the SU logo emblazoned across the chest, a pair of faded blue jeans, and sneakers. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and two rosy spots of color warmed her cheeks.

The contrast between the two women was remarkable. Darcy was the taller of the two, but Emmy dwarfed her by virtue of her exuberance and statuesque frame. Emmy was dressed in a blood-red pantsuit that clung lovingly to her fleshy figure. Her bright gold hair and ivory skin were a vivid contrast to Darcy's severely understated appearance.

But Quentin knew how deceptive Darcy's beauty was. It was tactile rather than visual. Baby-soft skin stretched over taut, defined muscle. Soft hair, soft lips, soft kittenish cries when she grew excited...

Her curves were subtle. Her a.s.s fit his palms, warm and round. Just the thought of her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s with their velvety-soft, rose-red nipples... Quentin shifted on the seat and caught Dylan's amused stare.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Dylan murmured.

"Huh!" Quentin grunted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"She's not what I would have expected." He tilted his head in Darcy's direction.

Quentin's eyes narrowed in warning.

"Oh ho! How the mighty have fallen."

"Boys!" Emmy tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Darcy and I are scaring up some steaks. Can we bring you anything?"