Page 29 of Lead Me On
His heart beat hard at the sight, telling him how nervous he was. Chase ignored it and pulled in next to the car. “I’m just trying to help,” he muttered as he walked heavily toward the door.
He thought he’d spot Jane as soon as he walked in. She’d blended in at that Aspen bar, but there was no doubt she’d stand out here. He glanced around the crowded room, trying to spot her. Nothing. He looked again.
Well, shit. She hadn’t been lying at all.
Still, Monday was dollar-beer night, and the place was packed. Jane could be here, waiting in line for the bathroom or something.
Chase ordered a Coke and squeezed into a seat next to the wall as a new song began to blast from the bar speakers. Guitar riffs jagged through the air. A few minutes passed, and he was beginning to feel pretty sure that Jane wasn’t in the place.
On the other hand, he was actually starting to have a good time. Not being a drinker, bars weren’t on his to-do list very often, but one of his favorite songs was playing, the mood of the crowd hadn’t progressed past rowdy fun and there was a gorgeous female ass gyrating right at the edge of the crowd of dancers.
Propping his back against the wall, Chase sipped his Coke and watched the show. That tight, round ass was just barely concealed by a denim skirt that stopped close to the top of her thighs. Those thighs were pretty damn nice, too, the muscles tightening in time to the music. They reminded him of Jane’s thighs, and the thought made Chase smile. Considering the way Jane had loosened up in his apartment, he might even talk her into doing a little dance for him if he was lucky enough to get up close and personal again.
Aware that a nice ass was distracting him from watching for Jane, Chase let his eyes roam over the room again. He knew a few people here. One of his part-time employees was parked near a giant inflatable beer can, his arm around a friendly woman. The guy manning the far side of the bar was someone Chase had gone to school with. And the giant who’d just walked in was known to everyone in the Carbondale area simply because he was so tough that people edged away from him: Big Mac MacKenzie. Still, he wasn’t a bad guy. Chase had bought an old bike from him ten years before and Mac had treated him more than fairly.
Mac seemed to be looking for someone, too, as he stood frowning in the doorway for a while before he headed to the back.
Chase finished his Coke and glanced back toward the hot dancing girl. She leaned into a young guy whose hair hung in waves past his shoulders. She was up on her tiptoes, her legs longer, her skirt shorter. “Nice,” Chase murmured, popping a piece of ice into his mouth.
He watched the girl’s lips as she yelled something into the guy’s ear. Nice lips. They were full and luscious just like Jane’s, only painted a deep, shiny red.
As she spoke, her eyes cut toward the bar, and Chase sat up too quickly, swallowing a large chunk of ice.
She had eyes just like Jane, too.
He swallowed hard, feeling the ice squeeze down his throat. “Wait a fucking minute…” Jane’s ass, Jane’s thighs. Jane’s mouth and eyes and… “Oh, Christ,” he breathed as she turned on her heels and he caught sight of her front. Jane’s breasts, too, barely hidden by a pink spaghetti-strap tank top. And there was, without question, no bra under there.
Jaw dropping, Chase rubbed his eyes, hoping to clear up his faulty vision. But no, when he looked again, it was still…Jane?Jane in a short skirt and heels and a flimsy little shirt? Her hair hung in a straight fall, nearly to the middle of her back. The glasses were gone, and if her occasional squint was any indication, she hadn’t replaced them with contacts.
He squinted a little himself, just to be sure it was really her. It was, though he wouldn’t have recognized her if he hadn’t seen her in sexy underwear and no glasses a few days before.
Jesus.
Shock had muffled his brain for a moment, but as her identity settled into his head, Chase’s mind nearly exploded.
Why was Jane dressed like that? Why was she in Ryders? Andwhywas she letting that biker dude stare at her tits?
She frowned at something the guy said, then leaned over to shout into his ear again. Chase found himself leaning forward as if he might hear. As if some shouted conversation on a dance floor could unravel this mystery.
It was a fetish. It must be. Some weird bad-boy thing. She was trolling for big greasy men with tattoos. Men she could use and throw away and never think about again.
Men like Chase.
He was scowling so hard that his head started to ache, so Chase rubbed a hand over his skull and tried to shake it off. Whatever. It had been only one night, and Jane had been pretty damn clear that she was using him. Hell, maybe he’d been the start of this fetish. Maybe he should be flattered.
But flattery had never made his gut burn like a phosphorus fuse.
While he was frowning at the pain, Jane’s friend waved another guy over. Within a moment, Jane had snuck her arm beneath the man’s black leather jacket and wrapped it around his waist. The two men spoke for a long minute while she stared intently at the floor, looking more as if she was taking mental notes than planning a date.
The first guy nodded and disappeared, and Mr. Leather Jacket put his arms around Jane’s shoulders and pulled her smack against him, rocking his hips in time to the music. Jane rocked, too.
Chase stood up to leave. This girl was too crazy for him. He set his empty glass on the bar, vaguely wondering when he’d managed to crunch through all that ice. Shoulders heavy with sudden fatigue, he made his way toward the door, staying close to the wall and far from the dance floor.
He couldn’t help one glance back, but he regretted it when he saw Leather Jacket’s meaty paw resting over the curve of Jane’s ass. “Best of luck, brother,” he muttered.
Hand on the door, Chase was turning away when he caught a rush of movement at the corner of his vision. The rush was moving toward Jane.
He froze, fingers spread wide against the scuffed wood, and watched Big Mac clear a ruthless path through the crowd. He didn’t have to push people to the side—everyone simply parted like a field of grass. Everyone but Jane.
