Her bra was a lacy temptation. Her breasts full and round, and when he tossed the bra away and those breasts spilled into his hands…Perfect.

He threw aside her pants. Nearly shredded her panties. This time wasn’t about softness and seduction. This was about need. Want. Desire that was running unchecked through him.

Too long.

He needed to fuck. Hard and fast. More, he needed to fuck her.

Her mouth called to him, those plump lips teasing him. He took her lips and thrust his tongue deep even as he backed her up to the bed.

“Your clothes—” Jasmine gasped against his mouth.

Then he tumbled her onto the bed. He didn’t give a shit about the bed getting wet from his clothing.

He needed to touch her.

His hands learned her first. He started with her breasts. Plucking the nipples. Loving the way they went so tight at his touch. He stroked her, cupped her.

She arched into him. Her breath came in little gasps that made his cock grow even harder.

Want in her.

His hand swept over the curve of her stomach. But when his fingers skimmed along the edge of her bandage, Drake froze.

What the hell am I doing? She’s hurt! He tried to pull back.

“Don’t even think of stopping,” Jasmine said, her voice a sensual demand. “I need you, Drake. I. Need. You.”

Every muscle in his body ached for her. “I’m too rough. You’re hurt—”

“Pain…is the last thing I feel right now. Don’t stop.”

And he knew he couldn’t. “I’ll use care.” Somehow, he would. His hands slid down her body. Down…down…right to the heat between her thighs.

“Drake!”

He explored her. Slowly at first, caressing the sensitive flesh, but when her hips arched against him, his touch became more demanding as he thrust two fingers into her.

She was hot and tight and he knew she’d feel fantastic around him.

“I want to touch you!” She was struggling with his wet clothes. “Get these off!”

He pulled away from her, just long enough to toss his clothes across the room and grab for a condom. He rolled it on, hissing out a breath because he wanted to be balls-deep in her now.

She was splayed out for him on the bed. Her nipples were pink, tempting. So very temping.

He licked her nipple. She jerked at the contact. He licked her again. Sucked that flesh. Scored her lightly, sensually, with the edge of his teeth.

His hand was between her legs and he felt the rush of arousal as she grew slick for him.

He kissed his way down her stomach. Her legs parted even more for him. He blew lightly over her clit. She tried to reach for him, saying that she wanted to touch him again, but he caught her wrists and held them tightly with one hand.

Then he put his mouth on her.

She came that way, with his mouth against her, his tongue in her, the first time. Crying out, Jasmine arched against him and he loved it.

Her body was shaking, quivering, and it was all for him.

Drake rose up quickly and drove deep into her, as deep as he could go—even as the climax still shook her.

Balls deep.

Her eyes were wide and dark with pleasure. Her cheeks flushed. She was beautiful and she was—

Begging for more.

“Please,” Jasmine gasped, her voice husky and desperate. “Drake, please!”

He withdrew. Thrust deeper. He still had her wrists in his grasp and he lifted them up, pinning them above her head. He wanted the control, but he’d sure see to it that she had her share of pleasure.

Enough pleasure to make her scream.

He plunged into her again, his rhythm giving them both just what they needed. Wanted. The wooden posters of his bed thudded into the wall. There was no restraint, no slow build up.

His cock sank into her, again and again.

Her legs lifted and locked around his hips as she tried to meet his thrusts.

It wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

He withdrew from her.

“Drake?”

In a flash, he’d rolled her over, positioning her on her knees. He wanted in her even deeper.

“Hold the headboard,” he ordered.

Her hands curled over the wood.

“Hold tight,” he whispered into her ear as his body wrapped around hers. She shivered against him. “Is this…okay…are you hurting?”

He didn’t want to hurt those stitches—

“Only pleasure,” Jasmine whispered back.

He put his mouth on the curve of her neck. His hand slid under her, fondling her breasts, then moving down, down, and finding the tight center of her need.

He stroked her clit even as he thrust into her.

Jasmine cried out. Her hands flew off the headboard.

“Hold tight!” Drake ordered her.

Her hands slapped back down and he drove into her with a thrust that had them both gasping. He thrust and stroked her, playing with her clit, forcing her closer to another release, one that he knew would be hard and brutal, because the orgasm pounding down on him was going to be that way. It was going to—

Consume.

She screamed his name as he erupted. The spasms of his release had him pounding deep into her. Pleasure made him blind and nearly mad for a moment as he held tightly to her. His whole body ached as the release seemed to go on and on, surging through Drake.

Her breaths were rushed and desperate.

And he was holding her too hard.

Awareness slowly came back to Drake.

Jasmine’s knuckles were white as they curled around the headboard. Her body was quivering.

The scent of sex and vanilla and woman hung in the air.

Perfect.

He kissed her shoulder.

Her head turned then, just a bit, and her eyes met his. There was pleasure on her face. No denying that, but Jasmine also looked…lost?

Had he hurt her? “Jasmine?” Her stitches—

“I…wasn’t prepared for you.”

He didn’t know what that meant. He’d taken care of the protection. He always did. No way would he go bareback with a woman he’d just picked up.

Jasmine’s not just any woman.

She blinked and her expression changed. Now she just looked…happy. Sated.

His.

“That was incredible.” Her voice was still soft and husky, and he was already getting hard inside of her. Again.

Round two, coming up.

But first…

He pulled out of her. Settled her down against the covers. Feasted for a moment with his eyes. He’d give her a few minutes to rest, then he’d get more screams from her.

Sex with Jasmine had been fantastic. Far better than—

His phone was ringing. Hell, where was his phone? He’d thrown it aside earlier when he shed his clothes. He’d been so intent on getting in Jasmine that he hadn’t exactly been paying much attention to the thing.

Ah…there…

He followed the sound and swiped up his phone—it had been under his trousers. “This had better be important,” he snapped. Cause you’re taking me away from paradise.

“Oh, it’s important, all right, boss. Some jerkoff just tried to get access to your vault,” Chad told him, voice flat and hard. “The guy stole a guard’s suit and walked right up here.”

His body tensed. “Where is the joker now?” Drake turned his back on Jasmine.

“He knocked out two of the guards.”

What?

“And he…hell, it looks like he just left. Must’ve realized that he wasn’t going to be able to break through the vault’s security system.”

No, that didn’t fit. The guy knocked out the guards, then left—with nothing?

“Drake?” Jasmine’s voice. Worried.

He glanced over his shoulder. She’d sat up in his bed. Her body was naked. Flushed from the releases he’d given her.

Beautiful, distracting Jasmine.

His jaw clenched as he put puzzle pieces together. “The devices last night were on timers…”

At his words, Jasmine’s gaze seemed to double in size. “What’s happening?” she demanded as she rose from the bed. Her eyes were wide.

“Those were just smoke bombs…” But now Chad’s voice was hard with an edge of worry.

“Tell me what’s happening!” Jasmine grabbed for his arm.

He didn’t respond to her, but he told his security chief, “Maybe those were just smoke last night, but maybe they aren’t tonight.”

Her hand tightened on him. “Was someone at the Arrow?”

As if she didn’t know.

Such a lying, beautiful face.

“What happened?” Her nails dug into him. “Tell me.”

He eased the phone from his mouth. “Someone tried to get to the Arrow’s vault. Attacked the men there but left without taking anything—”

“No,” the word was a stark whisper from her as horror flashed across her face. “He hasn’t taken anything yet. You have to get your men out of there! Close the casino!”

He glared at her. “You know what he’s doing.” A set up. She’s still playing me.

“He’s pissed. If he went in…or if he sent someone else inside…anyone in that casino could be in danger.”

“What will he do, Jasmine?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know…I just…I don’t want anyone hurt.”

Liar. He’d warned her about telling lies.

“Please, be safe.” She was begging again, but not because of passion. “Get the people out of there!”

He brought the phone back to his lips. “Get a sweep going—now. Close the whole place down.” Because even without Jasmine’s words, his gut was clenching with an instinct that couldn’t be denied.

“Yes, sir,” Chad told him instantly.

Jasmine’s breath whispered out as Drake ended the call. She backed away from him. Still naked. Still staring up at him with secrets in her eyes.

But he was figuring out those secrets. And maybe I really did just get fucked. “You’re the distraction.”

“Wh-what?”

“You keep me busy, while what…he goes after my money?” She’d been the one to tell him that he had to head down to New Orleans. A ruse, to get him away from the Arrow so her boss could attack.

He grabbed her, yanking her up on her toes. He’d been lost in her, driven to the edge by his lust, when some of her cronies had been trying to rob him. “What’s he got planned?”

“I-I don’t—”

“What?” Rage erupted inside of him. “Dammit, I have friends in that casino. Innocent people in the club. Don’t you try to cover—”

Her chin slipped up a notch. “I don’t know anything about another attack on the Arrow! I thought he was trying to come after your property down here, not up there in Vegas.”

“You’re lying to me.” He’d warned her before. There were no more warnings.

“No.”

“People could die, Jasmine. Stop screwing around and tell me what you know! You wanted my security guards to do a sweep. You knew that something could be happening.”

She was silent.

“Tell me.”

Her lashes lowered as she seemed to go limp in his arms. “I’m a dead woman now.”

What?

“Like you, Maxwell Case was ex-military.”

Maxwell Case. She’d just confirmed the SOB’s identity. And she was still talking.

“Demolitions were his specialty,” her voice was muted. “He liked to—liked to make things explode. That’s what he told me.” When her lashes lifted, her eyes shone with tears. “When I was in his office, I…accessed his computer. Found blueprints for the Arrow. Information on the vault. That’s how I knew where to put my smoke bombs. I used the plans I found on his computer. The placement was so obvious…I…it was just smoke for me, but I’m afraid it won’t be for him.”

He pushed her away and called his head of security. “Chad?” The man answered right away. “Get the bomb squad in there.”

“Boss?”

“Use your connections. Get them there now, and make sure everyone else is out.”

Because he would not have anyone dying on his watch.

Maxwell, you bastard…now I’ll be coming after you.

“I can tell you where to search,” Jasmine whispered. “I can tell you everything I saw on his computer…”

***

The Arrow should’ve blown. A controlled explosion that would’ve given him access to all the cash in that casino.

Not that Maxwell Case needed cash.

He wanted to make a fucking point.

But the bomb squad came. The place didn’t blow. They found all of his devices. In record time.

As if they knew just where to look…as if they knew exactly what he’d planned.

Jasmine.

That little bitch. She had always seen and understood far more than most people realized. It was that deceptively delicate appearance. When you looked that fragile, people expected you to be weak.

Jasmine was the smartest woman he’d ever met.

She was also a dead woman.

You told him, Jasmine.

She’d figured out his game. Figured out how much Maxwell liked the fire. Ah, now that was a shame. He’d had such grand plans for Jasmine.

But she’d gone and wrecked everything.

He slid into the back of the limo that waited for him. One that had been parked blocks away from the Arrow.

“Home, sir?” his driver asked.

“Yeah.” Because there would be no fireworks that night. He pulled out his phone. Pressed the number for the hunter who was proving to be nothing but useless. “Hardin, where the hell is she?”