That set her off into giggles. He liked the sound and the way dimples appeared in her cheeks. She licked her lips again. “You are so funny. Do you dance?”
“Yes.”
“I bet you do.” She openly stared at his chest, taking him in, and sighed. “Off-limits. It figures. I’ve got really shitty luck. Did I mention that?”
“Would you like to dance?” The alcohol had affected her logic since she wasn’t making much sense. “You asked if I can and I enjoy it.”
“I don’t have any dollar bills.” That set her off into a fit of laughter and she nearly slid off her barstool.
He reached out and gently wrapped a hand around her waist to make certain she didn’t lose her balance. “Dance with me.” He stood and gently eased her to her feet. She swayed on unsteady, bare feet, her shoes on the floor under her barstool, which he hadn’t noticed until that second. “The slow motion might lure you to sleep. I won’t allow you to fall.”
“You want me to go to sleep?” She leaned in to him, her body lax against his and she felt small in his arms. “That figures too. Most guys would want to strip a woman and fuck her blind if she were blitzed.”
“You’re inebriated and not logical. I would never engage in shared sex with you.”
“Damn shame,” she muttered and turned her head, resting it against his chest. She gripped his biceps. “Show me what you’ve got, hot stuff.”
He ignored the fast beat of the rock song and adjusted his hold to make sure she wouldn’t fall if she passed out. He moved his body just enough to keep her swaying on her feet.
“You smell really good.” Her fingers brushed his skin. “And you’re really big.”
“Thank you. I’m not a danger to you.”
She snuggled closer and as he looked down, he noticed her eyes closed as they danced. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Her fingernails raked his outer arms and he bit back a growl as his cock stiffened even more at the light caresses. It was a really bad idea to share a house, especially with a woman who drank alcohol and admitted to being deceptive.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Brawn?”
“No.”
“Someone is missing out. You’re a sweetheart to dance with me.”
“That’s another term I’ve never heard when I’m discussed.” He smiled. “You are amusing when you drink, Becca.”
“Thanks.” She released his arms and stretched up to grip the top of his shoulders. “Did I insult you when I asked if you have a tail or could see colors? I didn’t mean to ask that. It just blurted out of my mouth. Were those taboo questions?”
“Not at all. You’re curious about me and I’m curious about humans.”
She lifted her head and her eyes opened. She stopped moving against him so he held still, holding her gaze. “Are you a lion or a panther mix?”
“I don’t know. My records weren’t recovered.”
“Can I touch your hair? It’s so long and beautiful that I wanted to ask earlier. It’s a shame you pull it back.”
The request surprised him. “It keeps it out of the way. Go ahead. It grows really fast. I need to cut it again soon.”
She leaned into him and he flipped it over his shoulder to trail down his chest. Her fingers brushed his long ponytail and she smiled. “Please don’t. It’s as silky as it looks and it would be a crime if you hacked it off.”
The urge to ask her if he could touch her side again, minus her shirt, to feel her soft skin struck him, but he resisted it. It would be inappropriate, he knew. He held his tongue.
“I should go to bed.” She let go of his hair and slid her hands down his chest next to it. “Yeah. I should.”
“I’ll escort you to your door to make sure you don’t trip. You’re a little unsteady on your feet.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She stepped back and he released her hips. She wobbled a little but turned of her own accord and walked toward the archway. He followed closely and worried when she climbed the stairs. She didn’t fall though and made it all the way to her room. She paused, peered at him over her shoulder and stared into his eyes.
“Good night, Brawn. Sweet dreams.”
He nodded, refused to admit that when he had dreams, they were unpleasant memories of his past captivity. He didn’t want to tell her about the nightmares that sometimes woke him in the middle of the night. He’d be in a cold sweat, sure that being freed had just been wishful thinking.
She closed the door but he waited, listening to her move around her room, in case she passed out. The whisper of her clothes being removed reached his keen hearing and he closed his eyes, trying to think about something else. He was more than curious about what she’d look like bare. The bed took her weight and he still remained until her breathing slowed to assure him she had fallen asleep.
He blew out a deep breath, opened his eyes and returned downstairs to turn off the music and make certain the lower floor was secure. He felt out of place in Becca’s home, away from his people, living in the out world with humans.
Chapter Three
Becca woke with a start, confused at first about where she was, before memory surfaced. She winced, remembered most of her drunken discussion with her houseguest and promised to apologize to Brawn first thing in the morning. She glanced at her nightstand clock and took note it was nearing three in the morning. The reason she had jerked awake sounded again.
She frowned, listening to the persistent barking from Boomer, her neighbor’s beloved pooch. It wasn’t normal for the little dog to be noisy, especially in the middle of the night. She shoved off the covers to get out of bed. She crossed the room, gripped the curtain and pulled it back a few inches to stare over the wall that separated her property from the one behind it.
She could see Mel and Tina’s house from the second floor of her bedroom and frowned at the sight that met her sleepy gaze. The house was lit up brightly, every room illuminated and that wasn’t normal either. They were in their late forties, worked nine-to-five jobs during the week and she usually only saw a few lights on at any given time. It was highly doubtful they’d throw a huge party mid-week, if ever.
Boomer barked rapidly, a shriek came from him and it grew eerily silent. Becca’s heart dropped and she spun, rushed for her closet and jerked it open. Her fingers traced the upper shelf, found the drawstring, silky material and dragged it down. She rushed to her window with Bradley’s beloved opera glasses and lifted them to her eyes as she pulled back the curtain with her elbow. A quick manipulation of the glasses brought her neighbor’s house into sharp focus.
At first she didn’t see anything unusual. Mel and Tina didn’t have curtains or blinds on the back of their house. The houses were too far apart for them to ever worry about needing them. All the house lots were large so people who lived in the neighborhood naturally had privacy, unless someone directed binoculars their way.
The living room was empty. She moved the glasses until the kitchen came into view, still not spotting any movement. She moved on to the family room where Tina sat in a chair. The woman’s platinum-blonde hair was hard to miss, as was her frantically shaking head and the sight of something silver over her lower face.
“What the hell?” Becca was confused by what she saw over the other woman’s face and then it sank in. “Oh my God!” Someone had covered her neighbor’s mouth with duct tape. She needed to call 9-1-1. They were being robbed!
As she started to turn away to lung for the phone, someone large, dressed in black, stepped into the room with Tina. Though his back was to her, she knew it was a man by his size. His hand lifted. A slight popping sound reached her ears right as Tina jerked backward in the chair.
“Oh fuck,” Becca hissed. Tina’s face was destroyed. Blood, gore and a misshapen mass with platinum blonde hair was all that remained. The burglar had murdered her neighbor, shot her in the face.