Shoving down his triumph, he approached her on silent footfalls. “It’s okay, honey.”
Finally, she turned to face him. Her eyes were red, slightly puffy. She’d been crying. Shit.
“Of course it is.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It was fun. Thanks. But now it’s over, and I’m still in the mood to party. See you around.” She shouldered past him, focused on the suite’s front door.
Hunter hooked an unyielding arm around her waist and reeled her close again. He didn’t believe her for a second. “Tell me what I did to upset you.”
Kata hesitated, then tossed him a stare full of mock confusion. “No idea what you’re talking about. I had to get you off of me. You were heavy, I couldn’t breathe, and time is wasting.”
“And you’re going to party with who? Ben is passed out, your girlfriends are out on the prowl, and your sister is asleep.”
“What is this, an interrogation? You may be used to calling the shots when you go on your missions, but I told you, no one controls me. I’m ready to leave, so unless you want me to scream down the entire floor of this hotel, take your fucking hand off me.”
Everything she’d said since crawling out of bed made his bullshit meter ring. What she didn’t say was even more interesting. Her entire body was taut. She tried damn hard to repress a shiver as she licked her lips, looked at his. Definitely, he’d reached her on a level she hadn’t expected. That connection between them had her panicking. Even if he couldn’t get the why out of her now, he’d be god-damned if he was going to let her leave this suite alone wearing that curve-hugging sweater sans bra and those fuck-me shoes.
“Give me a minute, and I’ll get dressed. We’ll find a party and have all the fun you want.”
She leveled a stare at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Look, thanks for the bedroom tango. But I’d rather spend my birthday with people I know. No offense.”
He tightened his arm around her waist. “We’ve been as close as two people can get. Why don’t you get to know me better? I want to know everything about you.”
Kata shoved at his hold. “There you go again with your ‘everything’ talk, like this is some meaningful relationship. We fucked. It was nice. Now go away.”
Nice? He snorted. “Walks on a sunny day are nice. Orgasms so powerful they incite tears aren’t. We both know what’s going on.”
“I think you may have overestimated your prowess.” She raised a dark brow.
“Yeah? So all the gasping, clawing, and screaming were you just stroking my ego? Okay . . .” He shrugged. “I think you’re lying, but I’m more than willing to fuck you again if you’d like to prove me wrong.”
Her mouth pursed with fury—then suddenly she went limp. Had she fainted? He nearly stumbled at the unexpected shift in weight but found his balance and brought her upright.
As he lifted her hair aside and whispered her name, she elbowed him in the belly. He released her to clutch his middle. The tricky woman darted out of the suite.
Vixen. Damn, he was used to fighting enemy combatants, not sexy females.
But by the time Hunter worked into his clothes and hit the door at a run, Kata was nowhere to be seen. He charged down the hall and made his way to the elevator, but all of the cars had moved to lower floors. He watched the indicators as one of the cars descended to the lobby. The ugly certainty that she was on that one sliced through him.
No way he could leave her upset. He’d come on strong, he knew. He was a soldier, and subtlety wasn’t his forte. But once he found her, he could let her breathe a little. He just needed to know exactly what had spooked her so they could work through it. And he couldn’t know that without getting her to open up.
Glancing at his watch, Hunter wondered where the hell she would go at this time of night, even in Vegas, alone and on her birthday. She’d said that she wanted to party. Pounding on the elevator’s down button, he waited. Finally, a ding announced its arrival. Empty. He prowled inside, hit the button for the lobby, then scanned all the hotel’s advertisements for its many bars and restaurants. In short order, he found one for a club that looked trendy and loud, with pretty people dancing and lots of alcohol. His money was on that place.
After picking up another person or two on the way to the bottom floor, the doors opened. Hunter surged outside, scanned the area, and cursed. Fucking people everywhere, milling around the lobby, checking in, flooding the casinos that flanked the bank of elevators.
As a bellman stepped past, Hunter waylaid him for directions. In less than thirty seconds, he was jogging through a casino, up a flight of stairs.
As he reached the top, the electronica music throbbed through his body. Ahead stood a set of frosted double doors. The club’s name sparkled across them in glittery paint: SIN
Hunter stepped inside, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, then scanned the area for Kata. Thirty seconds later, he spotted her at the bar, drink in hand, tossing clear liquid back with one swallow, then sucking a lime.
Shit, what exactly had he done to fuck with her head? He flipped through their encounter mentally, but nothing stood out except the explosive connection and earth-shattering orgasm that had obliterated any in his memory. She hadn’t gotten her ménage, didn’t like the lamp on. She hadn’t seemed this disturbed about anything until the sex was over. But something about their connection had made her cry.
She’d panicked a little when he’d gotten possessive. That, Kata was going to have to learn to live with, because it wasn’t going to go away.
Slowly, Hunter circled the room. He watched her push her glass forward, order another, then suck it down immediately, chasing with a lime. She repeated the process. Thank God for one small favor: She’d paused somewhere to put on her bra. Not that it kept guys from leering.
A tall punk in a baseball cap and baggy-ass jeans approached her, a come-on based on his body language. Hunter was close enough to read her lips and bit back a chuckle. His Kata knew creative ways to say no.
Then his smile fell. He couldn’t let her use those creative ways on him. He wanted her again, bare skin sliding against his as he slid as deeply into her body as possible. In fact, “want” was a weak word. He itched, craved, needed.
When the would-be Romeo stalked off, and Kata was sucking down her next drink, Hunter approached. “If you’re looking to get trashed, you’re doing a great job.”
She snapped around to meet his stare. “Why can’t I get rid of you?”
Hunter considered his possible answers, then went for the one least likely to cause more conflict. “You can’t party alone, honey. And you just pissed off the last guy who approached you. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
“This isn’t funny, Hunter. I told you we’re done. Stop stalking me.”
So she preferred straightforward? Fine by him. “I got to you enough to make you cry. What did I do to bother you so damn much?”
She ordered another drink from the bartender, refusing to look at him. “Just because we spent an hour between the sheets doesn’t mean I owe you any answers.”
“How about a little common courtesy, then? I won’t leave until you tell me what the hell is wrong.”
As soon as the bartender set down her drink, she tossed it back in one long swallow, following with another lime that made her wince. “That, right there. You demand and push. You try to control me. I told you I don’t roll that way. Now fuck off.”
An independent woman like Kata? No surprise she’d feel that way. But her body had said something totally different. When he’d taken control of her orgasm and granted it on his terms, she’d been afraid ... right before she’d gone off like a killer fireworks display. She might not want to be controlled, but a big part of her got off on it.
“You can tell me to fuck off all you want, but I’m not leaving you. First, I’m pretty sure you’re drunk. Second, you’re alone, which makes you a target for any predator looking for an easy victim tonight. Third—”
“Third, I’m a grown woman and I won’t put up with this shit.” She shook her head. “I moved out of my childhood home the day I turned eighteen and lived in terrible rat traps to avoid more of the kind of shitty mind games you’re playing with me. I don’t need a carbon copy of my stepfather.”
Her stepfather? Damn. She had family issues. Ugly ones, from the sound of it. That changed everything—including his tactics.
He softened, coming closer, encouraging her with a caress. “Tell me about him, honey.”
At her signal, the bartender handed her another drink. With a toss of her head, she poured the shot down her throat. “Tell me where to find your off button.”
Stubborn, independent, funny. She’d be pissed off if he told her how adorable she was right now. Not that she wasn’t frustrating the fuck out of him. But no matter how grouchy she was . . . well, he’d been called a mean motherfucker more than once because he’d earned it.
“Did your stepfather hit you? Because I’d never lift a finger to you, ever. I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries.”
“My family is messed up, but we’re not an episode of Cops in the making. You’re loco.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that I’m crazy. I’m also persistent.”
“No.” Her mock surprise dripped sarcasm. “I would have never guessed!”
When it came to defense mechanisms, she had an arsenal. Good thing he had his own weapons.
As she signaled for yet another drink, he grabbed her hand. “You’re going to make yourself damn sick if you keep that up.”
“That’s my choice.”
Hunter couldn’t dispute that. Stupid choice, but hers. “What are you drinking?”
She slanted him a suspicious stare. “Patrón.”
He held in a wince. Very soon, she would be feeling no pain. Tomorrow, it would hit her like a ton of bricks.
“Hey, pal,” the bartender called. “Want something?”
“Club soda with a twist of lime.”
The beefy bartender, who could have been Mr. Clean’s double, raised an amused brow.
“What, you can’t handle Patrón?” Kata sneered, the effects of the alcohol beginning to show in her heavy-lidded eyes.
“I don’t drink.”
She frowned, lost her balance for a second, and grabbed him to stabilize. Whether she knew it or not, some part of her trusted him.
“Recovering alcoholic?”
“Nope. I just refuse to engage in something so obviously selfdestructive.”
With a roll of her eyes, Kata reached for the shot glass and lime the bartender set in front of her. “Are you determined to crawl on my every last nerve tonight?”
“No, but I am determined to make sure you stay safe.”
The bartender with the shaved head slammed the glass on the bar. “Four dollars.”
“I want to close out her tab, too.”
In the middle of tossing back her latest shot, she choked. “What the hell?”
The other guy shrugged. “She handed me a hundred bucks when she walked in and told me to keep the tequila flowing until her money ran out. She’s got a bit less than half her tab left.”
And she’d have alcohol poisoning by then, too. Fuck. Hunter reached into his wallet and pulled out another hundred. “Close it out. Now.”
Mr. Clean shrugged. “You got it.”
“Hey!” Kata slurred at the bartender, who ignored her. Then she swayed on her feet and scowled at Hunter. “Goddamn it! There you go, trying to control me again. Why the hell did I ever let you fuck me?”
The bartender repressed a smile. Hunter cursed under his breath. Kata had definitely had too much to drink, and he had to get her out of here quickly. For a girl who wanted to retain control, she’d certainly drunk enough to ensure that she lost it. The tequila was to mask fear and pain; he got that. Now he had to figure out her issue before she erected permanent barriers between them.
The conflict with her stepfather, whatever the cause, was something bigger than he could deal with here with the music pulsing, artificial smoke pumping, and her blood alcohol way over the legal limit. Because while she might have been disturbed by the way he controlled her body, she’d loved it. So had he. If he pointed that out again, he’d only drive her farther away. Likely, Kata’s stepfather had used his position in the family to somehow abuse her trust, so he must tread carefully.
She turned, staggering away. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his body. “I’m sorry.”
Kata looked at him with shocked, slightly unfocused eyes. “For what exactly?”
“Taking so much of the control without talking to you first. I tend to be dominant.”
“Tend to be?” She rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”