Immortal Desire by Denise Tompkins Read Free Book Online

was this little pissing contest about? He blinked several times and refocused on Bailey.
    She rounded on the customer, grabbed him by the shirt and stared him down before nimbly plucking the hundred-dollar bill from his fingers. The guy’s face lit up before giving way to confusion when she crawled up on the bar. Springing to her feet, she started down the bar top with the same hip-rolling gait that had lured Griff into innumerable fantasies. She pulled the pins from her hair. A fast, loose roll of her head flung the loosely curling mane out and around. Then she began to move in ways that were surely illegal.
    He couldn’t call it dancing because dancing wasn’t inherently carnal. What she was doing? It could turn saint to sinner and make him grateful for the lick of hell’s flames. She stalk-walked down the bar with exaggerated steps. Men stared at her, open lust decorating their slack-jawed pusses. She was the incarnation of every male fantasy. The way she moved to the music would be burned into their tiny brains and there would, no doubt, be a YouTube video.
    Griff growled. Starting tomorrow, cell phones were banned inside the club.
    Every few feet she’d stop to grab a beer and toss it to a customer or catch a bottle to pour a shot into an open mouth. Then she turned toward the beer taps and bent forward to pull a draft. Ass out. The crowd came off the chain. Keith and Seth were emptying the tip jars as fast as they could, finally resorting to dumping them into the laundry bin just to keep up.
    The guy who’d proffered the cash that got her up there made a grab for her ankle as she passed. Someone yanked him backward and he disappeared under a barrage of fists and shouted curses. Bailey winked and traced her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. A shout went up. Male-fueled sex hung heavy on the air.
    Acid churned in Griff’s stomach.
    The song wound down. Bailey took a bow and blew kisses amid shouted requests for an immediate encore, offers to buy her everything from drinks to diamonds and even proposals of marriage. She laughed it all off before leaping to the floor, high color staining her cheeks.
    Her legs wobbled on impact, folding beneath her. Hands out, she managed to break the fall and keep her face off the floor. Bravado she’d worn only moments before fell away. Fresh panic replaced it.
    Shouted obscenities and threats flooded the human wake Griff created as he plowed through the crowd. Flipping up the pass-through, he charged toward Bailey.
    Seth, who was closest, scooped her up and started for the end of the bartenders’ galley.
    People on the other side of the bar suddenly realized something was wrong. Yet the music still rocked. Rapidly volleyed questions formed an indecipherable buzz. Laughter rang out somewhere beyond the first three or four rows of onlookers. The party carried on.
    Griff met Seth halfway down the chute.
    The man gave Bailey over without hesitation. “Help her.”
    “Plan to.” Griff pivoted and started for the private hallway. He tried to ignore the way her scent wrapped around him with proprietary intimacy, the way she shifted toward him without hesitation, the way cradling her in his arms touched the void in him. He clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached. The last thing he needed was some ridiculous, albeit temporary, complication, but that was exactly what this was turning into.
    I’ll cut her loose as soon as this is over.
    He couldn’t bring himself to look down.
    Loping strides carried him beyond the pass-through and into the crowd. A hard hand landed on his forearm and tightened. Momentary confusion interrupted his mental ranting. He looked back.
    The man’s face was familiar in that Griff had seen him tossing money at Bailey. Beyond that, the guy was a complete stranger.
    Griff’s arms tightened around Bailey. “Step aside.”
    “Who are you to her?” the stranger demanded.
    There wasn’t an easy answer. Boss. Friend. Incubus to her succubus. Lover.