look like the
type Cornell would fuck; the man preferred skinny, short little things. Sasha
Kelly was tall and curvy, just the sort who turned Blaze on.
Shame he had to kidnap her.
Getting dirt on Cornell was more important than anything
else. The man had gotten away with what he’d done for too long. Hell, he
probably didn’t even remember killing Blaze’s older brother.
But an O’Rourke never forgot. It was up to Blaze to avenge
Sean. Given the fate of Cornell’s last two singers, he’d be doing this one a
favor by getting her out of here.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was
something different about this young lady…something that set her apart from
Cornell’s other singers. Although she had an unusual first name, her surname
marked her as Irish, as did that luxurious auburn hair. He wanted to wrap it
around his hands, pull her down to him and kiss her as her eyes closed in
bliss.
He shook himself mentally, reminding himself to focus on the
task at hand. Cornell’s singers were often granted unprecedented access to the
man’s private life. What did Sasha know? More to the point, what would she tell
him?
Maybe he could seduce the information out of her.
The thought made him smile. He had to get her out of the
club first, and if she was loyal to Cornell, she wouldn’t be very happy with
him.
A commotion at the door interrupted his thought process.
Blaze raised his eyebrows as the front door banged open. Men in blue uniforms
began shoving their way in.
A police raid. Perfect . Blaze ran for the stage.
One minute she was singing, the next she was over Handsome
Beefcake’s shoulder as he ran toward the exit. Her breath, so carefully hoarded
for the last lingering note of the song, left her in a whoosh.
The whole place was in turmoil. The saxophonist was right on
their heels, lugging his instrument. On the other side of the club there were
three policemen all dressed up in old-fashioned uniforms making a huge
commotion as they raided the bar, throwing bottles of alcohol around.
What was next? Was this even real? This was one strange theater club. There was probably a camera person somewhere, recording all this.
No matter—soon she would be driving back to her apartment and packing the last
of her stuff. Just as soon as she explained why she didn’t belong here, that
they had mistaken her for some other singer.
Sasha tried to remember where she was parked. She was
rapidly losing all sense of direction. The venue was large, but she was certain
she could find the parking garage—once this Adonis finally set her down, of
course.
She wriggled a little as they stepped through a back door.
The chill in the air immediately penetrated her stockings and she wriggled
harder.
“Put me down!” she demanded.
Beefcake didn’t bother to answer her verbally. Instead one
of his huge hands came down on her buttocks, spanking her lightly but firmly.
She tensed and gasped at his audacity. One part of her hoped her ex happened to
be watching them from a window. The other part was hollering at her to get the
hell out of this situation, no matter how muscular and attractive this guy
happened to be.
“I’ll scream,” she threatened.
“Scream,” he invited, and bundled her into the front seat of
an old-style Cadillac. He slid in next to her, starting the engine with a roar.
Fuck screaming. She was out of here. If someone was filming,
they could cut this scene as far as she was concerned.
As soon as she slid to the other side of the car and fumbled
at the door handle, he pulled her back. “For that, you can sit on my lap while
I drive.”
Sasha gasped in outrage as he settled her atop him. A deeper
and far more primal part of her stretched in anticipation. He was erect, his
cock jutting against her thigh. She was tempted to wiggle her backside and inflame
him further.
“Why are you kidnapping me?” Maybe if she talked to him, her
traitorous body would back down and see sense.
“Was
type Cornell would fuck; the man preferred skinny, short little things. Sasha
Kelly was tall and curvy, just the sort who turned Blaze on.
Shame he had to kidnap her.
Getting dirt on Cornell was more important than anything
else. The man had gotten away with what he’d done for too long. Hell, he
probably didn’t even remember killing Blaze’s older brother.
But an O’Rourke never forgot. It was up to Blaze to avenge
Sean. Given the fate of Cornell’s last two singers, he’d be doing this one a
favor by getting her out of here.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was
something different about this young lady…something that set her apart from
Cornell’s other singers. Although she had an unusual first name, her surname
marked her as Irish, as did that luxurious auburn hair. He wanted to wrap it
around his hands, pull her down to him and kiss her as her eyes closed in
bliss.
He shook himself mentally, reminding himself to focus on the
task at hand. Cornell’s singers were often granted unprecedented access to the
man’s private life. What did Sasha know? More to the point, what would she tell
him?
Maybe he could seduce the information out of her.
The thought made him smile. He had to get her out of the
club first, and if she was loyal to Cornell, she wouldn’t be very happy with
him.
A commotion at the door interrupted his thought process.
Blaze raised his eyebrows as the front door banged open. Men in blue uniforms
began shoving their way in.
A police raid. Perfect . Blaze ran for the stage.
One minute she was singing, the next she was over Handsome
Beefcake’s shoulder as he ran toward the exit. Her breath, so carefully hoarded
for the last lingering note of the song, left her in a whoosh.
The whole place was in turmoil. The saxophonist was right on
their heels, lugging his instrument. On the other side of the club there were
three policemen all dressed up in old-fashioned uniforms making a huge
commotion as they raided the bar, throwing bottles of alcohol around.
What was next? Was this even real? This was one strange theater club. There was probably a camera person somewhere, recording all this.
No matter—soon she would be driving back to her apartment and packing the last
of her stuff. Just as soon as she explained why she didn’t belong here, that
they had mistaken her for some other singer.
Sasha tried to remember where she was parked. She was
rapidly losing all sense of direction. The venue was large, but she was certain
she could find the parking garage—once this Adonis finally set her down, of
course.
She wriggled a little as they stepped through a back door.
The chill in the air immediately penetrated her stockings and she wriggled
harder.
“Put me down!” she demanded.
Beefcake didn’t bother to answer her verbally. Instead one
of his huge hands came down on her buttocks, spanking her lightly but firmly.
She tensed and gasped at his audacity. One part of her hoped her ex happened to
be watching them from a window. The other part was hollering at her to get the
hell out of this situation, no matter how muscular and attractive this guy
happened to be.
“I’ll scream,” she threatened.
“Scream,” he invited, and bundled her into the front seat of
an old-style Cadillac. He slid in next to her, starting the engine with a roar.
Fuck screaming. She was out of here. If someone was filming,
they could cut this scene as far as she was concerned.
As soon as she slid to the other side of the car and fumbled
at the door handle, he pulled her back. “For that, you can sit on my lap while
I drive.”
Sasha gasped in outrage as he settled her atop him. A deeper
and far more primal part of her stretched in anticipation. He was erect, his
cock jutting against her thigh. She was tempted to wiggle her backside and inflame
him further.
“Why are you kidnapping me?” Maybe if she talked to him, her
traitorous body would back down and see sense.
“Was
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