A meeting place.
Which meant that others would be going as well. She clutched Emerson’s hand and squeezed, silently communicating that she’d possibly figured something out. He paused, as she’d expected him too, and she whispered her newly found suspicion. With a nod, he turned and glanced about the street then pulled them both into what the Scots call a close. It was a dark alleyway used by those who lived in the area to go between main thoroughfares without entering the buildings that lined the streets like walls. He pulled her into the darkness, and she followed, curving around the back of the gambling hall and following the road parallel to where they had seen the men retreat.
Light spilled on the road ahead, and Emerson slowed then peeked around the corner. He froze as men’s voices as well as their footsteps grew louder.
Jaxsen thought quickly; they had no time to hide. Mind spinning with possibilities, she landed on the most inconspicuous for this area and time of night.
“Kiss me.”
“Say—”
Quickly, she tugged on his greatcoat and pulled him close, nearly slamming his teeth against hers in her haste. She pulled him back farther into the darkened corner. Warm lips met hers and softened the tense moment with a slight nip and tuck of his tongue as he caught onto the plan. Jaxsen forced her mind to detach from the thrilling sensation that tempted her to forget her purpose for one sweet second. Before she could admit surrender, she pulled back and coerced her gaze over his shoulder at the men’s retreating back. Sighing, she met Emerson’s stare, refusing to read into the warm expression illuminated by the one streetlamp.
“Well, if you were any other lady, I’d be quite concerned about required promises about now—” he murmured softly, a teasing edge to his tone.
“If you say anything about compromising me, I swear I’ll gag you,” Jaxsen muttered, tugging him back into the dim light in pursuit. Then, just because it would be amusing and she needed the distraction, she glanced over her shoulder to him and whispered, “And not the good kind of gagging.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I never took you for one of the more exploratory types.”
She winked once then turned to watch the men. They had cornered a railing and were descending a staircase to someplace below the street view. One lingered -- Daverson -- at the top and glanced around, as if making sure they were alone.
Jaxsen turned and laced her fingers around Emerson’s neck, angling their faces away from the streetlight. She giggled loudly, lifting her ankle behind her knee and burying her face in his neck. The most obvious way to detract attention was to pretend to not wish to avoid it.
Emerson’s hand circled her waist.
“We’d best play it safe for a moment,” he spoke in hushed tones against her neck.
“Shh, the gagging option is still on the table,” she whispered.
“You and gagging, should I be concerned?”
He teased so softly she felt more than heard his words.
“I’m assuming this isn’t the good kind of gagging as well?”
“Well, sometimes the sex improves when the man can’t talk.” She winked.
He let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
She leaned back and glared.
“I do believe you’ve been entertaining rather the wrong sort of gentlemen.”
“Of that, we are in complete agreement.” She glanced heavenward.
He leaned forward toward her ear, and she froze as he whispered. “One can’t do the proper foreplay when gagged.” And with a nip at her lobe, he brushed by her and walked away.
For once, leaving her speechless.
Because she wasn’t sure if he was right.
Bur she sure as hell wanted to find out.
He grasped her hand as if her lover and pulled her in a wayward aim toward the stairwell, feigning to be deep in their cups. He laughed once, and she made an obnoxious shh-ing sound before passing the stairwell to study where it led.
Stone steps descended toward a small door, dimly lit and boasting a large brass lock.
“Opened from the inside,” Jaxsen whispered, her sharp gaze taking in the small details.
