A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (19 page)

“Where are we meeting your friend?”

“Outside the first club,” he told her. “Just a few blocks up. Can you walk in those damn things?” His eyes slid to the five-inch black heels she wore, strappy and sexy as hell. He shifted his hips, trying to adjust the erection growing quickly in his pants.

Daphne winked. “Why? Do you not approve?”

“I didn’t say that,” he growled roughly. She laughed beside him, and he reminded himself there was no time to sneak off somewhere and show her exactly what she did to him.

While they walked, his hands twitched at his sides because of the large crowd, but Daphne leaned into him and rubbed his arm soothingly. After a few minutes, his hands stilled, and he blew out a heavy breath. No, he could not live without this woman to keep him grounded. The first club came into sight on the right, its bright neon sign announcing it as
Aphrodite’s Harem
, a ridiculous name, but now that Matt knew the man who owned it, he wasn’t surprised.

“There he is,” Matt said, nodding to his one of his only friends, Dorian.

“Was he a sniper too?” she asked as they approached.

“Yes and no,” Matt said quietly. “He was on my team and was my spotter when my other one… when Damien was killed.”

His steps stilled for a moment, but all Daphne did was squeeze his arm. No questions about Damien, which was good. Matt still hadn’t gotten over the man’s death. He cleared his throat and brought her to Dorian, introducing them quietly.

“Lovely to meet you,” Dorian said with the same stoic look on his face Matt wore. “You look beautiful, Daphne.”

“Thank you, Dorian. And for meeting us here.”

Dorian shrugged his muscled shoulders and scratched his nose. He was a few inches taller than Matt with blond hair instead of black. “Don’t mention it. I managed to get us VIP access so we can go right in.”

“How’d you manage that?” Matt asked as they followed him to the club’s entrance.

“I, unlike you, have a certain charm,” Dorian teased with a wink.

Daphne snorted a laugh but covered it quickly with a cough. When they reached the door, Matt pulled her back for a second. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, but I want you to wear this while we’re inside,” he said and pulled out an earbud for her. “I’ve got one too, and so does Dorian. They’re only linked to each other. Just talk, and we’ll hear you.”

Daphne frowned but stuck it in her ear. “Right.”

“Don’t lose it,” he warned. “If we’re separated, it’s the only way I’ll be able to find you again.”

“You can track me with this?”

“Course. These are military grade. GPS on ‘em,” Dorian told her. “Ready?”

Daphne and Matt nodded, and the three walked through the heavy black doors. The second they opened, they were assaulted by loud pop and techno mixed music blaring throughout the club. They only had time to visit two clubs that night, and from what Dorian found out, quite a few of the drug dealers worked out of this one and another one down the street. All they had to do was find a link to Dion, but the club was jam-packed, and beside him, Daphne looked like the last thing she wanted to do was find dirt on her cousin.

Her eyes shone brightly in the lights and her hips moved subtly with the music. Matt wanted to drag her onto the dance floor and show her how this night could go, but they had to find what they needed and get out of there before someone recognized either of them. Dorian told them he’d take the bar and handed over the VIP access cards, pointed to a set of white faux marble stairs, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Where’s he going?!” Daphne yelled. Matt grimaced and pointed to his ear, and she mouthed an apology. “He’s taking the bar?” she asked, quieter this time, but with the earbud, Matt heard her perfectly.

“Yeah, we’ll hit the upstairs. VIP only. See what happens when we throw Dion’s name around.”

They had nothing else to go on, so that was their best bet for the moment. As he tugged her up the stairs, he noticed her eyes widen as she looked around. The club was too gaudy for his taste, and the music shook the damn floor. He’d been security in this one a few times and remembered why he hated it now. Upstairs were various circle booths backed into dark corners against the wall with cushions draped in bright pinks and deep crimson reds. The lights were dimmed, and there were curtains that could be pulled across the openings for privacy. When they passed by the first, several female moans of pleasure escaped, and Matt saw Daphne’s face turn three shades of red.

There were several booths open. He could easily slip inside one, pull her with him, and disappear for five minutes. Had it not been for the coms in their ears and the fact that they were there to find out information, he would have.

Daphne’s eyes trailed back to the booth as he guided her forward. “People do that here? Just like that?”

Matt leered at her and let his heated gaze roam her body from her head to her toes until she shivered. “Yeah, they do, with good reason. Come on.”

There were several men in perfectly tailored suits sitting in a booth towards the end of the balcony. Ladies with long, flowing blonde hair surrounded them, and Matt and Daphne paused and walked to the railing as if they were watching the crowd. A man passed by, asked for their passes, and Daphne showed them while Matt asked Dorian if he had anything yet.

“There’s a man up there, supposed to be one of the suppliers,” Dorian answered. “Bartender said he’s here every Tuesday and Thursday nights, sits at the end booth.”

“Description?”

“Buzzed head, tattoo on his neck, and has a fetish for feathers.”

Matt raised a brow, and Daphne laughed. “Feathers, really?”

She leaned back with Matt, and when he saw the man in the center of the booth, two women draping feather boas over his shoulders, he frowned, disgusted, and Daphne laughed even harder. “Think we found him. Guy have a name?”

“He goes by Hades… How original,” Dorian said dryly.

Matt grabbed Daphne’s hand and leaned in close, whispering, “Act drunk.”

“That’s your plan? I’ve never been drunk!”

“Giggle a lot and hold onto me clumsily. Want to see if I can get him to sell,” Matt told her.

When they got closer, Daphne stumbled into his side hard and burst out giggling, her hands digging into his shirt as he held her up and forced a smile to his lips. “Hey, man! Hey, yeah, you!” The men in suits standing near moved to block Matt and Daphne from getting any closer. “Easy, guys, I just want to see my friend Hades. Hey, Hades! Need a favor, man!”

Hades’ narrowed gaze landed on Matt, and he sneered hungrily when he turned to Daphne. Matt nearly forgot what they were doing and rushed forward to deck the guy. “Let them pass. For the lady’s sake. She is quite a beauty.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” Daphne said loudly. “Isn’t he sweet?”

“Yeah. Hey, man, need something from you. He said you had it.”

“Who said what?” Hades asked and stood.

“Dion, man, he said you got in a new shipment last night, you know…” Matt muttered and leaned closer. “The good stuff.”

Hades frowned, and the men pulled their jackets open, flashing their guns. “Who told you this?”

“Dion,” Matt said lightly, hoping to appear calm. Daphne, to her credit, didn’t seem scared at all though her hands shook against his arm. “Dion Eridian? I’m the son of a guy in parliament, if you know what I mean,” he said and rubbed his fingers together, indicating a bribe.

Hades scratched his chin and told his men to relax. “Fine, but you came to the wrong club. You want Hermes. He’s the big man, handing out the new stuff from Russia tonight.”

Russia meant cocaine. Matt heard Dorian curse through the com and said he’d meet them outside. Matt shook Hades’s hand, and when the man leaned forward to kiss Daphne’s cheek, red filled his vision. His lips lingered far too long on her skin, but Daphne dug her hand into Matt’s arm, keeping him in check.

“Yes, it’s a shame I couldn’t help you, but please, my lady, come back and see me anytime,” Hades told her. “I’ll give you a discount.”

Daphne giggled loudly and said she would. Matt turned and guided her quickly back down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. “Well, that’s good, right? We got another name?” she said when they were out of the crowd.

“Yes and no,” Matt said tersely, contemplating running back in there and strangling Hades on principal. “Guess we go to the second club.”

By the time they reached the second club, the later night crowd had come out to play. The place was jam-packed from one wall to the other. The only space available to move was the dance floor. Matt caught Daphne staring at it longingly before Dorian said he’d snoop at the bar again.

“What do we do ‘til then?” she asked.

“We blend in,” he said and pulled her after him towards the dance floor. The panels put on a light show beneath their feet as more brightly colored bulbs flashed and roved around the walls.

The music had a good, strong beat and words, but Matt didn’t hear them. He put his hands on Daphne’s hips and told her this was her chance to have fun if she was ever going to. She grinned, and her body moved fluidly in his hands. She pressed herself against the length of him, and he mentally kicked himself for thinking this was a good idea. They should’ve sat at the bar and ordered drinks.

His hands were on her ass. His fingers moved a little higher as she continued to move with him, her breasts brushing against his chest until he saw her nipples harden. He was hard, but with each move she made, it swelled more until it nearly pained him to keep holding her. His fingers found the top of her mini skirt, slipped down just a bit, and his face went blank.

“Something wrong?” she smirked.

“You… goddamn it, Daphne,” he growled, remembering at the last second Dorian was listening, too. She wasn’t wearing anything under that skirt. Nothing—not a stitch.

He pushed her out to turn her and brought her back to him, her ass cradled against his hips. He ground against her, his fingers digging into her hips while her chest heaved from her ragged breathing. He knew she felt what she did to him the moment she gasped and caught his eye over her shoulder. His gaze narrowed, telling her in that moment she was in for it later, torturing him like this.

“Anything yet, Dorian?” he asked roughly, needing to get a move on before he did something stupid.

“I see him, but we have a problem,” Dorian said.

“Yeah?”
I’ve got quite a few, just add to the list
, he thought. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, the good news is I found Hermes,” he told them. “The bad news, Dion’s here.”

Daphne froze instantly. “What?” she snapped, glancing wildly around. “He’s here now?”

“Matt, get her out of here. He’s headed back downstairs,” Dorian warned.

Taking her hand firmly in his, Matt rushed her through the crowd and out onto the sidewalk. Dorian told him where Dion was, and they barely made it to the next block and out of sight when Dorian said Dion exited the nightclub, Hermes and several goons in tow.

“You two take off,” Dorian told them over the com. “I’ll follow him a while longer. Tell you what I find.”

Matt told him to call his cell later and pulled the com from his ear. Daphne did the same and tucked it in a pocket in her skirt he hadn’t even noticed. “How the hell does that work?” he asked.

She glanced at it then back at him. “What? The pocket thing or the fact I’m not wearing panties?”

His hand constricted on hers, and he told her to hurry up. She laughed, following, her heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk. When they’d reached his bike and she’d climbed on behind him, sliding close to hold herself against his back, Matt’s white-knuckled grip around the handles of his bike was the only indication of his state of arousal. The ride back to the palace took way too damn long with him imagining doing things to Daphne in her panty-less state. There wasn’t a chance he was going to sneak up to her room. It was too far away, so instead, once she was clear of the bike, he told her to stay close and follow him.

Matt led her through the servant’s entrance towards the back of the palace, took the rarely used back staircase to the wing with his room, and after he checked to be sure the hall was clear, had her tiptoe behind him.

Once she was safely inside his room with him, he closed and locked the door. “Have anything to drink in here?” she asked, turning once around to take in his room.

“I’m going to grab a bottle of wine,” he told her.

“Make it whiskey,” she told him. “In the mood to get a little tipsy tonight.”

“Just a little,” he growled and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. When she opened her mouth and nipped it, pulling it into her mouth to suck on it, he cursed and pulled back gently. “Whiskey it is,” he muttered, told her he’d be back in a minute, and ducked out of his room.

He leaned his back against the door for a minute, running a hand over his face, and caught sight of the bulge in his pants. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run into anyone on his way to the kitchens and back. It’d be a hard thing to explain. Luck was with him, and the kitchen and halls were dead at this time of night. When he reached his room again, he hurried inside, turning quickly to lock the door.