Her lips parted, that plump little lower lip feeling the damp caress of her tongue as it ran over it.
He could hear the thump-thump of her heart as it raced between her lush br**sts, the curves defined and perfect beneath the snug little red tank top she wore.
That tiny bit of cloth paired with those butt-snug jeans and moccasin boots that laced up the sides of her shapely legs had him all but panting for her.
She made him hotter than he’d been in—hell, harder, hotter than he’d ever been. And now, as she stared up at him, her lips parted, that hunger blazing up at him, he was a second from taking that kiss he’d been longing for.
“Gypsy—”
The faint, barely perceptible buzz of a sat phone vibrating in one of her pockets—again—in a distinctive rhythm had Gypsy suddenly drawing up short.
Rule was going to hurt the caller, he decided.
Those intoxicating eyes widened, and a heartbeat later she moved from between his thighs, hurriedly stepping away from him.
Pulling the phone from her pocket, she quickly checked the number before her jaw tightened and that hint of fear became anger.
“I have to leave.” Shaking her head, her scent suddenly tinged with an emotion he couldn’t quite define, she hurriedly slapped a few bills on the bar.
There was a shadow overtaking her, a hint of fear and one of worry.
“Gypsy, wait—” Fuck.
Before he could stop her she turned, moving quickly to the door before disappearing into the night.
His eyes narrowed at her exit; the scent of her heat and hunger, marred by her fear, still lingered in his senses.
Along with it was the knowledge that until the small phone in her pocket had gone off, she had nearly been his.
Turning slowly back to Dane, he met the other Breed’s narrowed, suspicious gaze.
Lifting the short liquor glass to his lips, the hybrid glanced to the exit she had taken before turning back to him with a shrug.
“Well,” he drawled. “It would seem she may have a leash after all. Proprietary claim, I believe it was called.”
Rule’s glass slapped to the bar as his jaw clenched furiously. Turning, he followed the exit she had taken, determined to find out exactly who her leash might be. And when he did, as he told her before, he’d be taking f**king ownership.
Catching up with her, even on a good night, was a pain in the ass, and if he didn’t keep his eye right on her, then she was gone just as quickly.
And he was damned sick of her disappearing acts.
Stepping outside and catching sight of her taillights as the little Jeep sped from the parkway, he turned to Dane questioningly as the other man stepped behind him.
“Loki tagged the Jeep at her last location, but there was a complication,” Dane informed him somberly before he could ask.
“What kind of complication?” He strode quickly to the Dragoon, aware of Dane following quickly behind.
Dane was sliding into the passenger side as Rule closed the driver’s-side door and activated the motor with a quick flick of a finger against the ignition pad.
“No sooner than he’d tagged it and finished programming the signal, the device malfunctioned. Returning to where she parked, he found the Jeep gone and the device dropped carelessly to the gravel.”
Rule accelerated quickly as he pulled from the parking lot.
“Dropped? As in someone dropped it, or as in the mechanism that holds it to the vehicle failed?” he asked.
“The mechanism was still working, and at no time did Loki see her exit the bar by the front exit. Mutt was watching the back exit, and she didn’t leave from there either. Though there were several windows on the other side where she parked, and one was open enough to have allowed her to slip away.”
Gypsy was escaping rather than leaving?
Damn her, the evidence was racking up that she was possibly the contact Jonas was searching for, and it was starting to piss him off. Mostly because he couldn’t deflect attention from her and cover her movements.
“Jonas wants that Jeep tagged, Dane,” Rule reminded him, his voice short, wondering how the hell he was going to keep Jonas from tagging it. Pretty soon, one of Jonas’s men would figure out someone was warning her of those devices.
Dane chuckled. “Perhaps it’s time little brother learns he can’t always have what he wants. Because it seems other interested parties are just as determined that it not be tagged.”
Rule wisely refrained from commenting.
As the Dragoon pulled from the parking area, the comm link to the vehicle’s communications beeped in summons. Flicking the control on the steering wheel, Rule answered it with a brief “Go.”
“Commander, I have the vehicle in sight,” Mongrel, one of Dog’s Coyotes, reported with icy efficiency. “She picked up a tail just after pulling onto the main road. It’s riding black on a parallel course and staying close.”
Riding black. Moving with all lights extinguished to avoid detection and most likely using one of the side roads that ran along the highway to keep sight of her.
“Can you identify?” Rule questioned.
“Not without being seen.”
Rule grimaced, wishing he’d driven one of the faster, more maneuverable desert vehicles rather than the Dragoon.
“Keep the shadow in sight if possible, but remain eyes on target until I arrive.”
If Gypsy had picked up a tail, then he sure as hell didn’t want to give whoever was following her a chance to get to her before he could. Just in case it wasn’t friendly.