N. Walters - MacNamaras Lady

“Why not? T.S. is a great guy. I thought you liked him.” Now Candy looked concerned and Missy felt like crap.

“I like him fine. Doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.” Liar, her conscience accused. Not really, she countered. What she wanted to do with him had nothing to do with sleep. And it was getting awfully warm in here.

“Enough about my love life. It’s time to get back to your party.” Missy gave Candy a hug before steering her toward the door. “Thanks again for the bracelet. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” Candy hesitated for a brief moment before plunging onward. “You’ll think about what I said?”

“About getting laid? Sure. I’ll think about it.” Missy was afraid she’d do nothing but think about it. That’s exactly what she’d been doing for months now. T.S. MacNamara had gotten under her skin, like a rash, and didn’t show signs of leaving any time soon. Too bad she couldn’t buy a cream or something to evict him from her dreams and sexual fantasies once and for all.

“I’ll probably have chocolate instead.” It was a long-standing joke between the two women that sometimes chocolate was as good or better than a man.

“You’ll be needing Godiva tonight,” Candy teased. “T.S. is one fine-looking specimen.”

Didn’t she know it. Missy tried to remember if she had a supply of dark chocolate at home. It might not be Godiva, but she’d make do. A glass of cabernet would help.

Lucas was waiting at the end of hallway for Candy. “I wondered where you’d gone.”

“Sorry.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. He moved his head at the last minute and captured her mouth instead in a torrid kiss.

Missy felt like a voyeur and quickly glanced around the room. She wasn’t looking for one person in particular, she assured herself. But her stomach dropped when she couldn’t find T.S. anywhere. He must have left while she’d been with Candy.

She felt deflated and hated her reaction. She’d been enjoying the sexual banter and byplay more than she’d wanted to admit. For the first time in months she’d felt alive with anticipation.

Screw it. She didn’t need T.S. or any man for that matter. She was a happy, healthy, successful, independent woman.

Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to the happy couple. “I should get going.” Amid protests and hugs, she gathered her coat and purse and left. The party was still in full swing, but Missy figured it wouldn’t be too much longer before Lucas moved the other guests along.

She laughed as he pictured Candy’s new husband all but tossing his friends out so he could be alone with her. Her high heels tapped against the hardwood stairs that led down to a private side entrance. She stopped at the bottom and tugged her coat on. Fall had a grip on the city, leaving the air with a slight nip, and the dress she was wearing was thin.

But she looked mighty fine in it.

Still smiling, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the night. It closed behind her, the lock clicking into place. The sounds of the city surrounded her. Car horns blew, streetlights hummed and buses rumbled down the road.

Missy strode to the end of the well-lit alleyway and headed down the sidewalk. She was parked on the road a few blocks down. She avoided the parking garage, knowing it would be late when she left the party. It was safer on the road where there were more people and traffic around.

Except tonight it was quiet. Almost eerily so.

“Don’t be silly. You’ve lived in Chicago for years. This is a busy street and your car is only a few minutes away. You’ll be fine.” The pep talk helped. But she pulled herself up to her full height and yanked her keys from her coat pocket, holding them tight in her right hand with one of the keys poking out from between her fingers. A precaution only. No need to be stupid.

She started to relax when her reliable Honda Civic finally came into sight. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

“Hey, pretty lady. What’s your hurry?” The male voice came from the alleyway on her left.

“Look at those legs,” another one said.

A quick glance told her there were two of them. They were both a little shorter than her but not by much. Probably in their early twenties. She turned away and picked up her pace. If she could get to her car she’d be okay.

“Hey, don’t hurry off. We want to party with you.” A heavy hand came down on her shoulder. She spun around and automatically struck out with her right hand. The man jerked back just in time to keep the key clenched in her fist from raking down his face.

“You bitch. You tried to cut me.” Anger filled his dark eyes. Oh shit. She was in big trouble now.

His friend circled around to her other side, cutting off the path to her car. She frantically searched for somewhere to run. But all the businesses were closed for the day. A car went down the road, but when Missy waved at the driver he sped away.

“Ain’t no one going to help you, bitch.” The bigger of the two spat. His skin was dark, his teeth white. Two gold hoops hung from his ear.

His silent friend was lighter-skinned with close-cropped brown hair and blue eyes. He appeared almost friendly, until you looked closely at his eyes. They were dead.

Missy’s heart was pounding so hard her chest hurt. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she watched both men as best she could. Her senses were heightened. She could feel the cool air on her face, the sweat rolling down her spine. The keys in her hands cut into her skin she held them so tight. It was her only weapon.

Go for the eyes. That’s what her self-defense instructor had told her. Scream for help was one of the other things he’d taught them.

Easier to say and hard to do when she could barely get a breath. “Leave me alone.” She’d try to reason with them first.

“Why?” This from the quieter of the two. The one with the dead eyes. “You’re alone. We’re alone. We should have some fun.”

It was as simple as that to him, she realized. Like a rabid dog, he’d seen what he wanted and could find no reason why he shouldn’t have it.

Perspiration dotted her skin in spite of the cool evening air. She licked her dry lips and took a deep breath. As the larger man leapt toward her, one hand catching her hand with the key and his other one ripping at her dress, groping her breast, Missy opened her mouth and screamed.

T.S. felt like an idiot. He rubbed his hands together against the cold air that was seeping in through the window of his truck. He’d rolled it down to keep the windows from steaming up. He could run the engine for a while, but he didn’t want to waste the gas. Plus it wasn’t good for the environment to keep the vehicle idling indefinitely. He also didn’t want to attract attention. Or worse, have her see him and think he was stalking her. Which he wasn’t.

Missy had come alone and he was worried about her getting to her car okay. “If you were that worried, you should have waited.” He could have enjoyed a few more snacks from the buffet—there had been some killer shrimp and some excellent cheese puff thingies—maybe even had a cup of coffee. But no. He’d left the party before the worry had kicked in so now he was stuck in his rapidly chilling truck.

He tilted his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He should just go home and call it a night. But he knew he wouldn’t rest unless he knew Missy was okay. This wasn’t the worst part of town but it wasn’t the best either, not at this time of day with all the businesses closed up tight for the night.

He’d followed her here from the church so he knew her car was just up the road. He’d wait until she drove away and then he’d go home. No one needed to be the wiser.

It was no more than any decent man would do. And if he told himself that enough times he might actually start to believe it.

As he relaxed, he pictured Missy in his mind again. Mmmm, she was certainly as beautiful as an angel and as tempting as a sin. Her legs went on forever. It was easy to imagine those legs wrapped around his waist as he pumped into her. Her breasts weren’t overly large but they looked perfect, at least through her clothing. A handful, but no more.

Her curves were more subtle, her torso lean and slender. He wanted to run his hands over her soft skin, trace her curves with his tongue before finding his way to her nipples.

Oh yeah. He wasn’t cold any longer. Now he was hot. So hot it was a wonder his clothing wasn’t smoldering. His cock stirred and he shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.

Then there was her mouth. Missy had beautiful lips, full and inviting. He really wanted to taste them, before delving inward to explore her moist mouth. He groaned. He should stop. And he would. Any second now.

It was all too easy to imagine her head thrown back against his pillows, her dark brown eyes overflowing with passion, her lips parted on a throaty scream of passion.

The scream that ripped through the night brought him straight up in his seat, driving all sexual fantasies aside. He was out of his truck before he’d even realized he’d moved.

He heard the scuffle just down the way, on the other side of the road. He squinted against the darkness. Two men and one woman. Shit, he was going to have to get involved.

He started across the road at a lope. He already had his cell phone out, dialing 9-1-1. “Hey, let her go.” The men ignored him and pulled the woman deeper into the shadows. The guy’s hands were all over her even as she struggled.

He heard a voice answer his call and put the receiver to his ear just in time to hear, “And what is your emergency?”

“Two guys attacking a woman.” He quickly gave the address and hung up, stuffing his phone in his coat pocket. The woman screamed again and cursed her attackers. He recognized that voice.

Fury jolted through him like a runaway locomotive. Missy. They had his Missy.

T.S. didn’t think about the fact one or both men probably had weapons. He simply attacked, grabbing the first man by his arm. He was a big son of a bitch with gold loops in his ear and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. But T.S. was no slouch. He’d grown up in the projects and if there was one thing he knew how to do it was fight dirty.

He didn’t waste time trying to reason with them. He’d sized them both up in an instant and these were the kind of guys who talked with their fists. He slammed his closed hand in the guy’s face. It didn’t seem to faze his opponent. He shook off the punch and whirled with a roar of anger. At least he’d released Missy. He didn’t look at her, couldn’t afford to be distracted.

The guy came at T.S. and he didn’t waste time. He wished like hell he was wearing his steel-toed work boots, but his heavy-soled dress shoes would have to do. He brought his foot up and drove it right into the guy’s balls. His opponent’s eyes glazed over and his hands immediately dropped to his groin. Then he dropped like a stone.

There was no time for him to pause to enjoy the picture of the big guy rolling in agony on the sidewalk. T.S. spun back around to Missy and her other attacker. The guy was wrestling with her, but she was holding her own, scratching at his face, jabbing at him with her keys. Her attacker brought his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

T.S. roared and leapt forward, grabbing the guy’s hand and using his grip to pull him away from Missy. “Run,” he yelled at her.

This new opponent was wiry but tough. He smirked at T.S. then pulled out a knife. It was long and sharp with a black handle and a silver pommel shaped like a skull. And from the way he held it, he was obviously a pro at using it.

He took a swipe and T.S. jumped back, barely keeping the blade from slicing through his coat. He kicked out and hit the guy’s knee. The leg buckled, but his opponent danced aside before T.S. could follow through with a punch.

Missy edged along the building, moving steadily around the guy. Why the hell wasn’t she running back to Lucas’ place like he’d told her?

The knife swung toward T.S. again and he jumped back. The blade ripped through his sleeve. The guy obviously kept his blade sharp, damn him. T.S. was going to have to pay for the damage to the damn tuxedo rental.

The guy on the ground was stirring, rolling to his knees. T.S. spun around, delivering a roundhouse kick to his head and the guy hit the pavement again.

That moment of inattention cost T.S. as knife guy jabbed at him. He felt the blade sink into his upper arm and swore as he jerked back out of range. He dimly heard Missy yelling and sirens getting closer. All his attention was on the man currently trying to slice and dice him.