Wicked for You

Book 10: A Wicked Lovers Novel

by Shayla Black

Genres: Women's Fiction; Private Investigators; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Ever since he rescued her from a dangerous kidnapper, Mystery Mullins has wanted Axel Dillon. When he returned her to her Hollywood father and tabloid life, she was grateful . . . and a little in love. Mystery wasn't ready to let Axel go, even after the soldier gently turned her away because, at nineteen, she was too young.



Now, six years later, Mystery is grown, with a flourishing career and a full life-but she's still stuck on Axel. Disguised, she propositions him in a bar, and the night they spend together is beyond her wildest dreams.



Once he realizes Mystery isn't the stranger he thought, Axel is incensed and intrigued. But when it's clear she's in danger, he doesn't hesitate to become her protector-and her lover-again. And as the two uncover a secret someone is willing to kill for, Axel is determined to claim Mystery's heart before a murderer silences her for good.

Release date: October 6, 2015

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 368

Sample

Chapter One

MYSTERY Mullins had finally had enough. After six and a half years of carrying this burning torch, she intended to snuff it out tonight.

The door to the run-down beer bar creaked when she opened it. As soon as she looked inside, she truly wished she hadn’t. The late-afternoon sunlight cast rays into the dark room, highlighting dingy checkerboard floors, a crack in the plastic face of the old jukebox, and a faded wooden bar. Pictures of beaches, bikini babes, and motorcycles lined the walls. In faded aqua paint on driftwood, a framed piece of “art” proclaimed IT’S FIVE O’CLOCK SOMEWHERE.

In front of her, a bank of TVs hung from the ceiling, some facing the door, others away to serve the patrons on the far side of the U-shaped bar. She scanned the room, glancing over the two dozen loners, mostly male, nursing their beers. Between the dimness and the obstruction of the various flat-screens, she couldn’t see all their faces.

She’d never stepped foot in a place like this. Trendy hot spots where one’s name had to be on the list, sure—when someone twisted her arm. But a dive? She winced. The reality was, if she wanted to scratch her itch for the one man she couldn’t seem to purge from her system so she could move on, this was where she needed to be.

Because he was here.

A gust of hot wind assaulted her through the still-open door. The heat already felt like the worst of a London summer, despite the fact that May in Dallas had barely begun. Or maybe she was just flushed and nervous.

An ineffectual swamp cooler clattered as it tried to adjust the temperature inside to something bearable but failed. Mystery wiped at the fine film of perspiration at her temple, flipped the faux hair out of her face, and hoped like hell this scheme worked.

The patrons in the bar were beginning to stare, not as if they recognized her, thank goodness. But what if he did? Utter, humiliating disaster. She’d planned this disguise so he’d never know her identity. The auburn wig with bangs cloaked her dark hair. Color contacts morphed hazel eyes into a stunning blue. A makeup artist Mystery knew from one of her father’s previous movies had worked his magic to make her cheekbones appear rounder, her jaw softer. During her brief time with her crush, she’d never had the luxury of wearing a shred of makeup. If he’d seen pictures of her since they’d gone their separate ways, he knew she usually dolled up and wore Chanel or Prada for the cameras. Today, she’d donned ratty jeans left over from her few days in college, a tight Hooters tank top, and a pair of wedged flip flops. The press had never photographed her this dressed down. Everything about her should appear different. He couldn’t possibly recognize her now.

But what if he did?

Mystery shook her head and told herself to stop dithering. She hadn’t stepped foot on U.S. soil in over a half dozen years, and he had no reason to suspect she’d come to his home turf now. Appointments back in London meant she could only be here for a week. The private investigator she’d hired had sworn he was still single and had just entered the bar alone a few minutes ago. It was now or never.

Because she’d never moved on from her teenage crush. She’d ten times rather write off her feelings as gratitude and stupid hero worship. After all, he’d saved her life. But if that’s all she felt, the ache for him should have worn off long before now. She would have stopped comparing him to other men she dated. Since he wasn’t going to fall desperately in love with her, she simply had to get him out of her system and move on, leaving him none the wiser.

“You need some help or you just want to let all the hot air in?” As she stood frozen in the doorway, the young bartender looked at her as if she must be on the stupid side.

“Sorry,” Mystery murmured, easing farther into the joint and scanning the room once more.

A couple of Duck Dynasty wannabes occupied the booth in the corner. A woman in a skimpy halter top sat with them, pouring tequila into a shot glass shoved into her artificially enhanced cleavage. More than one dived for the booze. Mystery halted in her tracks.

This place certainly underscored the fact that she and the man she yearned for hailed from different walks of life. But that didn’t matter. She’d only have him for a night.

She prayed that was all she needed.

Mystery’s stomach knotted. Though she hadn’t seen him since that last fateful night years ago, her nerves seriously annoyed her. She tried not to allow anything to faze her anymore. Not paparazzi, not walking the red carpet at the BAFTA awards with her A-list father, not even appearing on TV.

But Axel Dillon . . . Even the thought of him turned her inside out.

Mystery glanced around again, easing farther inside. Some biker types in the far corner playing pool eyed her. The bartender still stared down his pierced nose at her. Three cops huddled together all turned and focused on her. Did they think she was casing the place for a robbery? She had to stop standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. Take a seat and order a drink.

Finally, her head forced her body to obey, and she eased into a little booth near the back. Once she’d seated herself, everyone around her started talking again. And from her new vantage point, she could see the back half of the bar, previously obscured by the wall of televisions.

There he sat, absently staring at ESPN and sipping a beer, his profile strong. As usual, his rugged face was unreadable. He still kept his dark-blond hair military short. And he still looked like the side of a mountain. Somewhere around six foot five, he’d always been built big, but in the last few years, she’d swear he’d put on another slab of muscle. His tight black T-shirt hugged every hard swell and lean dip, tapering past a flat belly to narrow hips. She had to hold in a sigh. Even a single glance of him made her heart knock against her ribs and everything below her waist tingle. Mystery swallowed.

He didn’t once look her way. Somehow, she’d hoped their stares would lock. He would approach her, want her, and whisk her away for a spectacular night of unbridled sex that would blow away both her panties and her mind. But right now, he clearly had no idea she existed.

On shaky knees, she stood again and headed in his direction. She tried not to stare. A glance up at the television proved he watched a recap of a pro basketball game. With a grunt, he glanced down into the neck of his beer bottle as she slid onto the empty stool beside him.

Now that he was so near, Mystery could feel his body heat, smell him—rugged earth, cut wood, musk. Damn, being this close made her feel both safe and weak.

“Something on your mind?” He turned to her, his stare expectant.

She searched his expression and didn’t see a hint of recognition on his large, blunt face. What a relief. But the cleft in his chin and his bright blue eyes still made her feel weak and wanting. The instant chemical attraction she’d felt years ago hadn’t waned in the least.

“There is.” She mimicked the British accents she’d been surrounded with since she’d fled the U.S.—and him—over six years ago.

Her assertion obviously surprised him. Though he narrowed his eyes, they pierced her.

“I’ll bite. Lay it on me.”

The bartender chose that moment to come around and plunk a napkin in front of her. “Now that you found a seat, you want a drink?”

A glass of vino sounded heavenly. “Do you have a wine list, please?”

He snorted. “No. I got three types: red, white, and pink.”

Mystery paused. She hadn’t expected anything private label, but surely more of a selection than that.

“Is the white a pinot grigio?”

The bartender looked as if he was losing patience. “I don’t know what kind that is, but the jug of white I have is as close as I’ve got. You want some or not?”

That could be seriously terrible.

“Then I’ll have a glass of water, please.” Better to keep a clear head, anyway. “Thank you.”

As he turned and grabbed a glass, the bartender shook his head and muttered something to himself. Mystery really didn’t want to know what.

“I’m not sure what threw him off more, your accent or your request.” The corner of Axel’s mouth lifted in amusement, giving her a flash of dimples.

She’d forgotten the way his smile could soften his harsh face. She grinned back. “He seemed quite ruffled.”

A moment later, the young, pierced guy set a glass in front of her with lots of ice and a bit of water, sans lemon. She blinked, and her colored contacts jabbed her eyes with a reminder of their existence. Or maybe it was a warning that her plan would fail spectacularly.

“So do you,” Axel said. “I won’t point out that I’ve never seen you here, but I’ll guess you’ve never been to a place like this.”

“Never,” she admitted. “What gave me away?”

He chuffed. “Leaving the door open so you could gape with barely disguised horror was a start. I particularly liked the way you turned slightly green when you stared at the guys about to do body shots with Trina.” He nodded to the corner where the bearded men and the woman in the halter top all laughed. “So why are you here?”

She’d forgotten how observant he could be and how accurately he could draw conclusions. He did it in an instant, as if nothing in the world shocked him anymore. The world still shocked her all the time.

She hadn’t, however, forgotten how direct he was.

“Curious,” she lied and held in a wince at her lame answer.

He shrugged. “Let me try another way: The place is more than half empty, so why did you sit next to me?”

Brutally direct, she mentally corrected.

Mystery gaped for an answer. “Why not?”

In retrospect, she could have been a little less obvious and a little more coy in choosing a seat. Maybe she should have sat a few stools away, ordered some terrible wine, and seen if he struck up a conversation. But she’d taken one look at him, and any thought of careful or logical had flown out the window.

He leveled her with a disbelieving stare. “That’s all you’ve got? You couldn’t even have come up with a good lie?”

Not really. She could have gone the “You look familiar” route, but that would have been too close to the truth. As far as she could see, that only left her one tactic.

“You’re very attractive. Pardon me for being interested.”

A little smile lit up his eyes before he took another swig of beer. “I didn’t say you being close upset me. You’re attractive yourself.” He stared a moment longer, then glanced down at his empty beer before he shifted his attention to her untouched glass. “You sure I can’t get you something stronger to drink? I can’t believe a girl like you would risk life and limb to come to this dive for a swig of water.”

Truth was, drinking didn’t hold a lot of appeal for her. In the past, she’d pretended otherwise, but . . . “While I appreciate the offer, I’m actually not interested in alcohol.” She forced herself to meet his inquisitive stare. “Would you like to find somewhere more private to . . .”

“Talk?” He gave her an ironic curl of his lips.

“No.” She sucked in a shaking breath. “To fuck. Would you be interested?”

*   *   *

AXEL sat back in his stool. Surprise pinged through him—which didn’t happen often. He’d thought she’d strike up a conversation, maybe flirt. He certainly hadn’t expected a sex invite. It happened, but he hadn’t seen it coming from little Miss Prim. Sure, she’d dressed sexy and vamped herself up, but he’d bet his right nut the woman didn’t know much about sex. And that she’d enjoyed even less of it.

Interesting turn of events . . .

Why would she proposition a complete stranger? Though he didn’t know a stacked redhead like her or even a British female, something about her looked slightly familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

The one fact that was obvious? She was decidedly nervous. And she’d zeroed in on him immediately. If he had anything worth stealing, he’d worry she was a scam artist. But she would have to be a different sort of woman for that, one with a less perfect manicure, who picked up a stranger with ease.

But offering sex to a man she’d just met in a bar was something she’d clearly never done.

The whole situation begged him to question why, but he didn’t want to kill the mood and pry the information out of her . . . yet. A beautiful woman wanted to get naked with him. Normally, he didn’t do one-night stands. Casual fucks didn’t go well with his kink of choice, which required more than passing trust. Vanilla sex usually wasn’t his thing, either. But this woman was the first to raise more than mild interest in a long time. There was something about her . . . At this point, everything, really. She was not only one gorgeous package but an interesting riddle he’d like to solve. She had a reason for lowering herself to come to his favorite dive and pick him up. In an hour or two, he’d figure her out.

“Never mind.” She scrambled out of her stool, looking at the floor. “You’re not interested. I understand. It was foolish. I’m sorry.”

“Sit,” he barked automatically, then bit back a curse.

She wasn’t a sub at Club Dominion, had no idea he was a Dominant who expected to be obeyed and would paddle her lovely ass if she didn’t.

Axel opened his mouth to apologize, but she’d already complied. Suddenly, more than his interest rose. “I didn’t say I wanted you to leave. You just surprised me.”

A pretty little flush crawled up her cheeks. “I suppose I was a bit forward.”

“Do you regularly proposition men?” He couldn’t resist baiting her.

She cast her gaze down at her lap, and he drew in a steadying breath, beating back a sudden jolt of lust. Did she have any idea how many submissive signals she was giving off? His cock was every bit as piqued as his interest.

“No,” she mumbled.

Though he probably should, Axel didn’t stop himself from curling his finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to meet his. Vivid blue eyes with thick, black lashes. A full, bowed mouth. An air of unawakened sensuality he hadn’t seen in years.

She wasn’t the sort of woman he usually went for. He liked brunettes, especially if they sucked cock well and craved bondage. This red was absolutely the sort who would have sex with more than her hormones. She’d bring her heart and get it all tangled up in the man who gave her pleasure. Definitely, he should walk away.

“Where do you want to go?” Axel asked.

“I—I . . .” She blinked as if she hadn’t thought this part through. Or maybe she was just nervous. Either way, she really was terrible at casual hookups. Axel found that oddly endearing.

“My place?” he offered. “Or would you rather have a hotel?”

“Y-your place.” She frowned. “You’re saying yes?”

“I’m saying yes.” He took her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

With his free hand, he slapped a ten-dollar bill down for his beer and guided her toward the door.

“What’s your name?” he asked as they approached the exit.

“It’s, um . . .”

“Bye, Ax,” the trio of cops in the corner called.

He waved in greeting. “See you. And enjoy your beers with the boys now, Matt. As soon as that baby comes, it’s going to be dirty diapers and exhaustion for you.”

The other regulars laughed while Matt flipped him the finger.

With a hearty grin, Axel opened the door. As soon as they stepped out to the surprising spring heat, he stopped on the sidewalk and raised a brow at her. “Name?”

“I’m . . . Elise.”

So Elise wasn’t her name. He didn’t know what it actually was and he didn’t like being lied to, but there was some reason she’d chosen this bar and him with casual sex on her mind. In good time, he’d unravel the why and learn the truth, along with her real name. Maybe he shouldn’t take someone unwilling to be honest to bed, but he’d already mentally undressed and started fucking her in his head. He wanted to do more than imagine.

“And you’re Ax? That’s unusual.”

“Axel.” He nodded. “It’s not my given name, but it’s what everyone calls me, so we’ll leave it at that. You come here in your car?”

“No. I was in the area and saw this bar and . . . popped in.”

The joint was off a side street, halfway down an alley, in a grungy part of town. No one just “popped in” unexpectedly, especially someone like her. Though her approach wasn’t practiced, it had definitely been premeditated. Hmm. And how had she gotten here without a car? How had she expected to leave without transportation of her own?

Axel scowled. Two and two wasn’t adding up. But he was a big boy. She wasn’t going to roll him. Not that she gave off the vibe that she planned to. No doubt, however, that she wanted him for something.

Not-Elise was getting more interesting by the minute. Not only was she the first woman he’d wanted in a while, but she’d be the first he’d take to bed in way too long strictly because he wanted her, not because she needed him.

The thought nagged him with a sludge of guilt, and he shoved it away.

“Popped in, huh?” he drawled.

Her flush deepened. “Shall we call a taxi?”

Like it would be simple getting one in this part of town? “My bike is over there, if that works for you.”

She followed his gaze and found his gleaming silver and black Ducati. “Can we?”

Had she never been on a motorcycle? Axel couldn’t figure this woman out and he kind of liked that. The way her face lit up made him eager to explore her. The thought that he’d be able to see her climb to orgasm in those pretty eyes turned him on even more.

“Let’s go.”

Within minutes, they were settled on the bike. He’d fastened his too-big helmet on her head and given her a few basic instructions. She seemed fascinated, excited for this clearly new experience. As he started the bike and she settled behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, he smiled. If new experiences turned her on, he had all kinds he could unleash on his little enigma.

*   *   *

AS the wind whipped around her, Mystery clung to Axel’s lean waist, actually able to feel the muscles of his abdomen and back as she pressed herself against him and held on for dear life. After thirty seconds, she decided that she needed one of these when she got home. Her father—if he wasn’t on location somewhere—would have a conniption. But wow, the freedom of feeling the air on her skin and the motor beneath her body exhilarated her.

She looked up, her gaze snared by the back of Axel’s thick neck. Maybe she should resist the urge . . . but she didn’t. Instead, she straightened a bit and braced her hands on his waist. It was a reach, but she pressed her lips to his skin. The moment she did, Mystery tasted a mild tang of salt, smelled clean soap blending with his rich, manly scent. Her head swam. Her body tightened.

God, this was going to be the best night of her life.

When she moaned and nipped at his nape, he tensed slightly, but she didn’t get the impression he disliked what she’d done. On the contrary, he shuddered and reached back with one hand to grip her thigh.

She gasped and found Axel glancing at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes penetrating. The look he shot her told her that she was in for something fiery, fast, and irresistible. Mystery flashed hot all over. Finally, she’d know what he felt like as a lover. The years of fantasizing had only left her wanting.

A few turns later, he pulled up to an older house, something faintly art deco that had probably been built in the thirties, given the purity of the big rectangular windows, the flat roof, and the huge trees lining the quiet street. The rest of the elements looked traditional—brick accents and flagstone walkways. The landscape was sparse but healthy. Everything looked meticulously maintained. But that didn’t surprise her. He’d always been methodical and precise.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured as she lifted his helmet away, thanking the heavens it was way too big to pull her wig off.

He took it from her outstretched hand and hung it on the rearview mirror. “Thanks. It’s peaceful. I like it here. Let me put this away.” He reached into a saddlebag attached to the side and pulled out a garage door opener. With a press of a button, the big door raised, and he pushed the gleaming bike into the garage that, aside from a few organized tools, was otherwise empty.

Task completed, he hit the button to close the garage door and jumped over the sensor before returning to her side and taking her hand. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.” Mystery didn’t hesitate.

A smile broke out across his face, the kind of grin that told her that she was in way over her head. She knew all too well that she was—and she didn’t care. Her pulse skittered. Breathing took a backseat to staring at him. He’d never know how long she’d waited for him to do his worst.

“Then come with me.”

He unlocked the front door and opened it for her. She stepped over the threshold, into a gorgeous space with tall ceilings, pale honey floors, and a beautifully restored antique art deco dining room table. Through a big opening that likely wasn’t original to the house, she peeked into the expansive kitchen. Their gray cabinets, white quartz counters, and a whole wall of windows invited her in. She could picture him cooking in here, sipping beer, and relaxing.

“It’s lovely.”

“Thanks.” He led her into the domestic space. “I restored it myself. Drink?”

It seemed a bit odd to be pondering seduction late in the afternoon, as sunlight slanted through the bare windows. She’d pictured nightfall and champagne and elegance. But this was somehow quieter, more intimate. Perfect.

“No, thank you.”

Axel prowled toward her, so big and intent, so male that she instinctively retreated a step. Her belly tightened. Her back met the kitchen counter. He kept coming, and her stare tangled with his. The wry smile he wore revved her heart.

“I might have better wine than the bar.”

She wanted a completely clear head for this, wanted to remember every moment—and not dull her wits or risk blowing her cover. He’d been the first to teach her that booze had a time and a place, but not when one had a purpose. Her goal was to have incredible, orgasmic sex with the man she’d pined after and leave before he figured out exactly who he’d hit the sheets with.

“I’m sure you do, but no, thank you.”

Nodding slowly, he leaned in to brace his hands on the counter, on either side of her body. The last few inches he left between them tortured her. Her ache to erase the distance between them writhed like a physical thing. The years of fantasies about him collided in her head and zoomed down to converge between her legs until she throbbed.

And Axel hadn’t even touched her yet.

“Something to eat?”

Mystery got the distinct impression that he had no intention of cooking for her. He just toyed with her because he knew she wanted him so badly. If he’d figured that out and had no idea who she was, why not be brazen and ask for exactly what she wanted?

“I appreciate the offer, but if you’re taking requests, I’d rather you show me to your bedroom and take off your clothes.” Mystery didn’t demand; she knew better.

He chuckled. “Eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Why hide the truth?

He cocked his head and studied her. “I owe you some torment for kissing the back of my neck on my bike. And truthfully, once I get you to my bedroom, I’m going to be all over you and so far inside you, I’m likely to shock your sheltered sensibilities.”

Her entire body jolted at his words. With a sharp gasp, she sucked in her next breath. “I want that.”

“In good time. Let’s . . . make our way to the couch.”

More waiting sounded awful. More waiting would make her go mad.

Mystery surged forward, planting herself against his chest and bracing her hands on his massive shoulders. He didn’t move as she brushed her lips over his and stole a kiss.

At first contact, fire sparked through her body. Another wave of heat zipped through her. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him.

Until she realized that, other than puckering up, Axel wasn’t participating.

Horrified, she leaned back. “I’m sorry. I . . .” Am mortified that I can’t seem to control myself.

She tried to duck out of his embrace, but he kept her caged between his body and the slab of quartz, then eased her back against the counter.

Mystery couldn’t meet his gaze. “Please don’t. I’m embarrassed enough.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be. It’s not that I don’t want you kissing me, so if you’re feeding yourself a ration of insecurity about that, you can stop. You’re new at this whole seduction business, and I’m flattered you chose me.”

God, he had her pegged, and Mystery wanted to crawl into a hole because she could hear the “but” in his speech. She’d heard him give her such a speech before.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain. If you’ve decided you’re not interested, I can call a taxi and—”

Axel cut her off by wrapping his beefy hands around her waist and lifting her onto the counter. He used his big body to pry her knees apart and stepped between them. As he wrapped thick arms around her, he yanked her flush against him. “Look at me.”

Hot and cold, bewilderment and need, shock and excitement—everything clashed in her bloodstream. Scarcely daring to breathe, she peeked up at him, lashes fluttering, until she found the gumption to meet his stare head-on. “What?”

“You’re misunderstanding. I just want our first kiss to be something you remember, so scratch that last peck from your memory bank.”

Their first kiss had been unforgettable. Not a day since had gone by that Mystery hadn’t thought of it—and him—with longing. No man had ever made her ache more with his whole body than Axel had with just his mouth.

“Let’s do it right,” he murmured, cupping her face in his big hands.

All too eager to experience him again, Mystery met him halfway as he swooped down and captured her lips in a hard press. Instantly, the jolt of need she’d only ever experienced with him shocked her entire system. Every cell turned electric, glowed, pinging and lighting up. After the initial spark went through her, she threw her arms around him, more than happy to lose herself in the burn of his passion.

He was everything she’d waited to feel for six and a half long, lonely years.

As he pulled back and stared down at her, his big chest rising and falling faster than before, she lost herself in his blue eyes and remembered the first time she’d seen him.

Chapter Two

Six and a half years earlier

SO cold. Mystery huddled into her blinged-out crop jacket and curled into the corner of the run-down shack. Her shoulders ached. She felt as if a furry creature had taken up residence in her mouth.

Th