She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, starting toward the back door of the Priory. The usual chaos inside poured out from the screen door. Hard rock and loud laughter. All the amoral and greedy glory that Bourbon Street had to offer. All carrying along just fine without her, as he was sure she knew. Ajax waited there in the shadows behind her and she stopped short before she reached the doorway. Then turned back slowly.

Very slowly.

“Your shirt.”

“Yeah.” Ajax moved toward her, predatory and sure. Closing in fast. “I’m gonna need that.”

He saw her jolt a little bit at that, and she took a step back. But she didn’t make a break for it. She didn’t haul ass through that door and down the hallway into the relative safety of the crowd inside, and she could have.

Somehow, he’d known she wouldn’t.

Ajax stopped when he was right in front of her, and he could hear the way she was breathing. Too fast, like she really had broken into that run. He could see the way her chest moved, giving her away. She shifted again, and he didn’t need to reach down into her jeans to confirm that she was sopping wet and ready for him. He could see it on her face, in her darkening eyes. He knew.

Though it was going to be a whole lot of fun when he got there, all the same.

“I’m worried—”

“You’re not worried.”

He reached down and took the hem of his Henley in one fist and started dragging it up, revealing her hot fucking body to his heated gaze. At last. After the sheer torture of having her rubbing up against him for miles and miles, his mouth actually watered when her tank top rode up too, showing him a taut little swath of her belly.

“Just like you’re not psychic, as far as I know, and if you are, guess what? There are a lot better places for you to go in the Quarter than here. You can read palms and fight for turf with the voodoo queens and leave me alone.”

He kept pulling that Henley up, and the momentum made her sway closer to him. Maybe it wasn’t the momentum. Maybe she couldn’t help herself, either.

“You don’t want me to leave you alone.”

“Is that your psychic power telling you that?” she asked sweetly.

“I don’t need to be psychic to know when a bitch is so hot for me she might come right here if she crosses her legs,” he grunted.

Sophie let out a breath that was part gasp, part laugh.

“That was disgusting even for you.”

He shrugged, and slid the shirt up over her breasts. He waited. She let out a small sigh and then she lifted her arms obediently and that too told him everything he needed to know. He took some care pulling her hair free as he tugged it over her head, and then he threw the fucking shirt to the side.

And she was right there, still breathing too fast. Still so fucking pretty it was messing with his head and getting deep under his skin. His cock didn’t give a shit that she was the kind of trouble that lasted a lifetime. It just wanted in.

“So?” he asked. It was more of a growl.

“So what?” She was staring at his mouth. Maybe that was why he smirked. Or maybe he just liked the way it made her focus, then glare up at him.

“You registering a complaint about how disgusting I am or was that more of an observation?”

Sophie laughed again. “Like you care.”

And then his hands were in that thick, wavy hair of hers, digging in with two fists. He dragged her mouth to his, the hunger beating at him, and even the crush of her lips didn’t help it. He thrust his tongue deep, his mouth open, taking as much as he could. Cradling her head in his hands so she could do nothing but wrap her arms around his waist and take it.

He angled his head, going deeper, taking more, and this kissing shit wasn’t enough.

Ajax slid his hands down the length of her, enjoying the way she shook against him, enjoying the fit of her and the curve of her back. And really fucking loving that ass of hers when he finally got there. It wasn’t enough to test those plump, perfect cheeks through her jeans. He shoved a hand beneath her waistband and massaged her ass, reveling in the way she filled his hand, smooth and warm. He reached down and unbuttoned her jeans so he could slide his other hand in too without cutting her in half.

Jesus, she was firm. Firm and hot and silken sweet at once. Ajax lost himself in her greedy mouth. She hung on to him with her nails digging into him again, little pricks of heat that made him sweat. She was making those insane little noises while she sucked on his tongue, kissing him dirty and wild, and she rocked back into his hands while he clenched down hard on that fine ass in his hands at last.

And none of that was even close to enough.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers. “Your jeans are too fucking tight, woman.”

“You love it,” she threw back at him, because she had not one shred of fear in her. Not one. He couldn’t think of anything hotter than that. “You’ve been staring at my ass all day.”

“I’d love it a lot more if they were around your ankles,” he muttered, but he was pulling her hard against him, both hands deep inside her jeans and on her ass again then, and Jesus Christ, she was perfect. Taut and silky and he was ready to kill something if he didn’t get her naked. “I’m sick of your fucking clothes.”

He lifted her then, high against him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and threw her legs around his waist with her ass still in his hands, where it fucking belonged. He took the stairs, stopping every now and then to pillage her mouth and let her writhe against him and build up the crazy again, and then they were at the door to the apartment and it was all taking too long.

Ajax let her down then, and letting go sucked. He was already unlocking the door with his key by the time she got her balance and he didn’t have time for the way she looked at him, like clarity was returning in a hurry. He pushed her inside, maybe not quite as gentle a shove as he could have given her if he wasn’t so hard he was cross-eyed, and she glared at him over her shoulder.

“Keep moving,” he told her, and then he kicked the door shut behind them and finally, finally they were alone.

She walked through the kitchen and into the living room while he locked the door behind him, and he wondered if she’d take that last order to heart just to mess with him and keep going all the way into her bedroom. He wouldn’t mind. He’d also take the fucking door down.

Instead, she stopped. Dead in the middle of the floor, and he saw her straighten her shoulders. It looked a whole lot like second thoughts to him, but he took his time. He kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his cut, hanging it carefully on the back of the nearest chair in the kitchen.

Sophie still didn’t move. She didn’t look back at him.

“Something on your mind?”

He thought she stiffened. “No.”

“Good. But you got something to say, babe, now’s the time.”

She didn’t say anything. And Ajax didn’t feel like investigating why that rolled through him the way it did, a lot like relief.

He walked up behind her and pulled her to him, nestling that ass of hers against his aching dick, and then he reached down and slid his palm over the swath of skin between the edge of her tank top and the unbuttoned waistband of her jeans. She let her head fall back against his shoulder and he took her mouth again, more demanding than before.

Deeper. Slicker.

She shifted against him and it was like lightning. Ajax groaned, and then he took the open button of her jeans as the invitation it was and slipped his hand inside, shoving down the zipper as he went to finally get to her pussy.

Sophie moaned into his mouth as he touched her. She was soaking wet and fucking hot and he grunted out his approval and his need, his fingers stroking all over her slippery folds. She pushed herself into his hand and she panted into his mouth, and then he took her clit between his fingers and held her there for a sweet, hot minute. She jerked against him and rocked back, hard, and then he sank two fingers deep into her soft, wet cunt.