Reid shook his head. “She’ll just run farther away.”

“Maybe, maybe not. And she can’t run too far—you’ll be back in the office with her on Monday.”

Reid gave a noncommittal grunt. He hadn’t told Jace, but he’d be looking for a new place to move his office to on Monday. No way would he be able to see Brynn every day knowing he couldn’t have her. Masochism was not his kink.

Jace set his bottle down, his expression brightening. “All right, enough of this, I’ve got an idea.”

Reid shot him a wary look. “Dangerous words coming from you.”

“No, I’m serious. We’re not doing anyone any good sitting here having a fuck-my-life conversation. And it’s time for you to stop doing the hermit thing.”

Reid tilted his bottle back. “I think the hermit lifestyle suits me. I’d look good with a beard.”

He shook his head. “No. Three weeks of house arrest is long enough. It’s Friday night, your shoulder sling is off—we should go do something.” He checked his watch. “I have a friend whose band is playing tonight. Why don’t we grab a burger, then go to their show?”

“Don’t you have a roommate you can drag to these things?”

“The department switched Andre to the night shift. Plus, he hates hard rock.”

“I don’t think—”

Jace hopped from his chair. “I’m changing that from a request to an order. You owe me.”

“Seriously?” Reid cocked an eyebrow. “You’re ordering me around? That head injury really did do some damage.”

He crooked a thumb toward the house. “Come on, don’t be a douche. Go get showered and changed. I’ve seen homeless people who look better than you.”

Reid flipped him off, but rose from his chair. Maybe Jace was right. He’d done nothing but work on Hank’s case and worry about Brynn since he’d come home from the hospital. Maybe getting out of the house would help his sour mood. He headed into the house, Jace hot on his heels. He glanced over his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To help myself to the rest of your beer supply.”

Reid walked into the nightclub already itching to leave. After three weeks of holing up in his quiet house, the blinking lights and heavy rock beat overloaded his senses. He pulled at the sleeve of his black T-shirt, the snug fit irritating the healing bullet wound. Jace clapped him on his good shoulder. “Come on, there’s a table over there, next to the dance floor.”

Super. Just what he wanted to watch all night—happy couples having vertical sex.

He followed Jace, sank into one of the modern leather chairs, and prepared to brood. As soon as he could wrangle a waitress, he ordered a stiff drink and started his mental clock. One hour, and then he was leaving. His indebtedness to Jace only went so far.

Once the drinks arrived and he had sufficiently drained his and ordered another, he leaned toward Jace. “Who do you know in the band?”

Jace put his hand up to his ear to hear him over the thumping music. “What?”

He cocked his head toward the stage at the female-led rock band. “How do you know the band?”

The corner of Jace’s mouth tipped into a wry smile, and he pointed over Reid’s shoulder with his straw. “I don’t. But she does.”

Reid craned his neck in that direction and froze. Son of a bitch.

“She calls me every day to check on your recovery, you know,” Jace said. “I may have asked her what her plans were for the night.”

Reid gripped his drink so hard he was surprised the glass didn’t splinter. “I’m going to fucking kill you, man. You have no right to interfere.”

Jace shrugged. “So don’t do anything. Enjoy a few drinks and watch that dude take your girl onto the dance floor.”

Reid whirled around again to see Brynn take some yahoo’s hand and rise from her seat. He couldn’t see her face, but the short hem of her snug black dress taunted him, the sweet skin of her thighs and calves beckoning him to touch, taste, and devour.

But before the fantasies started weaving in his head, the guy’s hand slid onto the base of Brynn’s spine. Possessive. Presumptuous. Something dark and primal snapped inside Reid. He surged upward, no longer able to hear the music over the blood rushing in his ears.

Mine.

Brynn tried to muster a smile for the guy, Mark or Mitch something, who’d asked her to dance, but she knew she was failing miserably. She could think of fifty other places she’d rather be than here at this stupid club, but she’d promised Melody she’d go out with her this weekend to see her new boyfriend’s band. She knew Mel was worried about her and was trying to get her mind off everything, but beyond a lobotomy, she doubted anything was going to accomplish that.

Luckily, the crowded dance floor and loud music saved her from having to make small talk. She moved along with the throng, sweaty bodies bouncing around her on all sides. Mitch/Mark kept a palm on her hip and a pelvis grinding in her direction, the playful spark of interest firing behind his rimless glasses.

She closed her eyes, not having the energy to feign interest back, and turned herself over to the hypnotic pulsing of the bass and the small buzz she’d gotten from her two glasses of wine. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her muscles moved in time, but her mind drifted, her thoughts going to the same place they always went these days.

Warmth oozed over her skin as the hands on her hips suddenly became broader, stronger. The amorphous body heat against her back more defined, solid. Tossing her head back, she leaned into the steely wall, inhaling the scent burned into her olfactory glands. Mmm.

She didn’t want to open her eyes, wasn’t ready for the fantasy to slip away.

“Think this jerk-off can make you come apart like I do?” asked the deep, familiar voice.

She startled at the words, her lids flying open. Her dance partner had been absorbed into the crowd and now large, familiar hands gripped her waist from behind. Her movements stuttered off the beat, and her knees almost went out from under her.

His lips brushed against the back of her neck. “You know what it fucking does to me to see some other guy touch what’s mine without my consent?”

What was Reid doing here? She had used her safe word, had walked away. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But she couldn’t make herself form a protest. Instead, she tilted her neck to the side, providing him better access, her body acting on its own volition.

The brush of lips became a scrape of teeth. “That’s right. Give in to it.”

The hand on her waist drew her closer, bringing her ass against the hard ridge in his pants. She let out a little gasp, molten heat flooding her sex. “Reid.”

“You feel how much I miss you, sugar,” he said, his voice like warm milk on a cold night. “Have you missed me?

His palm slid down, cupping her vee and making her arch against him. “God, yes.”

The words came out before she had time to evaluate their consequences. She bit her lip hard as her clit swelled beneath the pressure of his hand. The music continued to thump and people pressed around them, concealing his blatant touch. He worked his hand against her with a slow, methodical rhythm, the lacy material of her underwear sliding against her sensitive skin.

His other hand moved to her ribs, his thumb idly caressing the underside of her breast. Her nipples pebbled against her bra, the buds aching for Reid to yank down the neckline of her dress and take one into his mouth. She sagged against him, and his fingers drifted higher, grazing over her left breast. She bucked with the combination of sensations. Fuck. She was going to come right here on the dance floor and he hadn’t even touched her bare skin.

He chuckled against her hair. “Not yet, sugar. Not here.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to beg for release.

“The song is about to end. When it does, you tell Melody you’ll be back in a little while. Walk out to the parking lot. My car is in the back corner of the lot. You meet me there.”

“Reid,” she said, her breath catching, the word more a plea than anything else.

“No safe words tonight. You’re either by the car when I get there or you’re not. I call the shots after that.”

She shivered, his hard tone making her belly tighten and her clit ache. Shit. What was he planning to do to her?

The song came to a cymbal-crashing conclusion, and Reid released her. When she spun around, his blue eyes blazed over her. He caught her wrist and brought it to his mouth for a light nip. “Your call, sugar.”

He turned on his heel and strode away, his confident swagger and drool-worthy body drawing the attention of every woman he passed on the way back to his table. He didn’t grace any of them with a glance and didn’t look back to see if Brynn was following his instructions.

On jelly legs, she made her way back to her table. Melody looked up at her, her eyes widening. “Good lord, girl, are you okay? You’re all flushed. Maybe you should sit.”

Brynn shook her head. “I need some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Mel moved to stand up. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” Brynn said, maybe a bit too abruptly because Mel raised an eyebrow. “You’ll miss Terrence’s next song. I’ll be fine.”

Her friend sank back into her seat. “You sure?”

She nodded and before she could think too hard about what she was about to do, headed toward the exit door.

The air outside had cooled and grown heavy since she’d arrived, and the low rumble of thunder promised a rare summer storm. Besides the tap of her strappy heels along the pavement, the lot was quiet, the headlining band enough to draw even the smokers inside. She kept a brisk pace, and her senses tuned to her surroundings. The club was in a good neighborhood, but the parking lot was dark and she was seeing monsters in every shadow these days.

Reid’s sleek SUV loomed in the farthest corner of the lot next to an ancient looking oak tree, but there was no sign of the man himself. She paused a few steps from the vehicle, her heart hammering against her ribs. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. What if she panicked again and didn’t even have a safe word to escape? What if the nightmares she’d had every night since the day in Davis’s basement claimed her and Reid didn’t stop?

Reid stepped out from behind the SUV and leaned a hip against the grille. Her crossed his arms over his chest and pinned her with his stare. “You’ve got four steps of free will left, Brynn.”

She eyed the small expanse of space between them and swallowed hard. His very presence soothed something jagged inside her. “I’m not ready to talk about us.”

He smirked. “What I have in mind doesn’t require conversation, sugar.”

Her eyes darted to the large erection pushing against his jeans, and her muscles tightened in anticipation of how it would feel to have him inside her again. Shit. This was a bad idea. So bad.

But God, she wanted him.

She locked her gaze with his and took a breath.

One. Two. Three. Four. She crossed the last few steps, not stopping until she stood within inches of his broad chest.

“Good girl,” he said, pushing off the car and straightening to his full, intimidating height.

She moistened her lips. “Where are we going?”

He gave her a slow smile. “Who said we were going anywhere?”

Before she could respond, he hooked an arm around her waist, and his lips claimed hers. Hungry and hot, his tongue possessed her mouth—pure, animal need flowing from every pore in his body and into hers. Gone was the sweet, loving guy from the hospital. In his place was Reid’s dark side personified. The side he had tried to ignore when they were in their twenties. Dominant. Powerful. Carnal.

She should’ve been scared, and she expected the panic and flashbacks to slam into her. But instead, her entire being jumped to life and every nerve swirled into a pool of trembling want low in her belly. This man wouldn’t hurt her. He would own her.