Читать книгу Stripped Down - Kelli Ireland - Страница 11
ОглавлениеERIC HAD EXPERIENCED a moment of absolute, unanticipated desire when the hostess opened the front door. He’d seen lots of beautiful women, but Cass was something else. At somewhere near six feet in heels, she’d looked up at him with denim-blue eyes framed by long black lashes. Pale pink lips had parted as she’d sucked in a breath. Color had stolen across high cheekbones, and she’d dropped her gaze.
Something inside him had shifted then. Hard. His synapses fired and then spontaneously combusted. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d said, only that he’d made it to the living room without giving in to the impulse to kiss her.
In a strange way, it had made the rest of the night’s decisions easier. He’d dance only for her. It wasn’t about the money; they were just two people responding to each other. And it had been a damn long time since he’d felt like his body was more than a commodity.
As he tightened the belt, she looked over her shoulder and gave him a slow, sexy smile, rolling her bottom lip under her front teeth and waggling her eyebrows.
Lust flooded his groin.
He ran a hand up her spine and wound his fingers through her dark hair, pulling her head back. Game. On.
Her dark blue eyes flared for one brief second.
Eric pulled her toward him. Sliding his palm over her taut abdomen, he swiveled his hips and reveled at the catch of her breath.
Movement caught his attention. Gwen was staring over her shoulder curiously. Damn it. He’d gotten so wrapped up in Cass that he’d forgotten the bride. He let the tall, sultry brunette go and shifted his attention to the blonde.
The music bled from Pitbull to the Black Eyed Peas’ “Boom Boom Pow.”
After dancing with Cass, his cock was threatening to put on a real show, but the idea was enough to tone things down.
Stalking around Gwen, he unbuttoned his pants and teased his zipper down.
He made the removal of his pants a seduction, though it wasn’t for the benefit of the woman seated in front of him. Inch after inch of skin was revealed until he let them fall away, finally stepping free. Straddling Gwen again, he fought to keep his gaze on her and not the woman cuffed to her. Her free hand was fisted at her waist. Eric picked it up and dragged it down his chest, imagining how Cass’s fingers would feel on his heated skin.
Gwen looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “Do that thing with your abs.”
He rolled his torso, shoulders to hips.
She screamed and laughed again.
The women in the room went wild.
Eric beckoned the shy one who’d given him her chair. “C’mon, baby girl. Let me thank you appropriately.”
She shook her head.
“Go get her,” Cass murmured.
Surprised, he glanced at her.
“She’s my assistant. Her husband recently left her.” True concern colored Cass’s eyes. “It would make her feel good.”
With a quick nod, he worked his way to the quiet woman. She refused to look up as he danced. Fair. But it didn’t work for him. So he pulled her out of her chair and let her stumble into him, saving herself by planting her hands on his chest. He pressed her hands there and encouraged her to touch. That wasn’t part of his typical act, but at the moment, it didn’t matter.
Moving around the woman, he whispered soft encouragement. When her hand snaked out to put a five in his G-string, he rewarded her with a little extra attention and a second kiss to the cheek. Then he slipped to his briefcase and retrieved a pair of handcuffs and a tiny key. He held both up to the ladies. “Who thinks we should make Gwen work for the key?”
The bride shook her head. “Cass needs to earn it. She’s the one who lost the key to start with.”
“Is that fair?” he asked the room in general. It was certainly the arrangement he preferred.
The response was unanimous.
“Cass,” he murmured. “I’m going to let Gwen go. You’ll stay here and earn the key for both of you.”
Her eyes sparked and color flooded her cheeks, but she nodded.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, ladies. I’m going to switch the music to something a little more...appropriate. While my back is turned—” shouts and comments “—you’re going to hide money all over Cass. I’m going to find it. I only get to keep what I find.” He paused and looked at Cass. “Please, be creative. Very, very creative.”
He went to the stereo, smiling at the excited teasing going on behind him. Pushing through the custom mix, he stopped on his favorite song. An electric guitar struck a chord. The bass line fell in behind, and the vocalist slipped into the mix. Highly suggestive lyrics made his blood run hot. Not as hot as the woman who had moved to sit in the center of the room, though. She was spectacular.
She also seemed a little uncomfortable.
Moving around her with slow deliberation, he trailed his fingertips over her bare skin.
She shivered.
He started by plucking bills from the easy-to-reach places and tucked them into his G-string. And bless those women. They’d taken his instructions to heart, tucking bills all over her. He was pretty sure he could now give a good approximation of Cass’s measurements. Damn if he wasn’t enjoying himself
He dragged the back of his fingers up her arm and under her long hair, wrapping his hand around her neck. Bending close, he locked his gaze with hers. “Did they hide anything in here?”
“You expect me to help you cheat?”
The way she stared at him with undiluted curiosity and open desire made his fingers curl into her neck muscles. His groin tightened.
Gwen and her cheering section were shouting, encouraging him to move on. Dragging his fingers down, over her collarbone and stopping at the glimpse of cleavage his position afforded, he sent her a searching look.
She shrugged, the movement jerky. “You’ve got to make a living.”
Guilt speared through him, shame hot on its heels. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a user, a seducer for personal purpose or private payout. His fingers hovered over her chest.
“Have mercy on me,” she said, blinking up at him with exaggeratedly wide eyes. “Finish your search-and-recover mission so I can go stick my head in the freezer.”
“Hot?”
She rolled her shoulders. “I keep telling myself this is your job, but there’s still the matter of your fingers on my skin, you know?”
He squashed the urge to stroke her hair. She was right. This, all of this, was about making a living—so why did it feel different? “True enough.” Finger-walking his way into her cleavage, he pulled out a twenty. He doubted she’d gotten into the act and tucked the money away herself, particularly between her breasts. “Whom do I thank for their generosity?”
As if she’d read his mind, she winced. “Gwen’s payback for me losing the key.”
He laughed. “I like Gwen.”
She scowled up at him, her heart clearly not in it. “I wasn’t supposed to be part of the show.”
“Roll with it, baby. It’s all in good fun.” He gently chucked her under the chin before facing the room, needing a little distance. “Unless you ladies are more dirty-minded than I am, and I seriously doubt that, I’ve found all the prizes. I’d trade a kiss for a bottle of water.”
Several women scrambled for the wet bar.
“Just one,” he called after them. On a deep breath, he faced Cass and held up the key. “You were a great sport.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
Heat burned his cheeks, and he was both embarrassed and charmed by his reaction. The shy woman from the group was the first to make it back to him with a bottle of water, and he accepted it, this time brushing a soft kiss over her lips. “Thanks, beautiful.”
A strange expression passed over Cass’s face, one that said Eric had just done something profound. Hell if he knew what it was beyond kindness. Then Cass was gone, making excuses about checking on food and drinks, ensuring guest comfort and anything else she could toss out in a rush.
He watched her move through the crowd, absently rubbing her cuff-free wrist. Gwen bounded over to her and the two exchanged a few words and a quick hug before the bride became the center of attention once again. Gwen shot him bright-eyed looks when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, and those looks unnerved him. Clearly, Gwen was up to something. For all that the woman feigned innocence, he’d bet the entire evening’s take she had a devious streak.
Grabbing a pair of Elmo sleep pants from his briefcase, he slipped into them and padded around the room, flirting, picking up empty glasses and refilling others.
“You don’t have to do that.”
He glanced over his shoulder to find Cass closing in on him. “What? Pick up?”
“That, and serve.”
“Habit.” He shrugged. “I’ve got another half an hour before my time’s up. I can dance if you’d prefer.” And didn’t that offer have to claw its way out of his chest? He wanted her to see him as more than a stripper, wanted to tell her he was busting his ass to be more than this, but the words wouldn’t come.
She shrugged. “It’s cool. Just realize I don’t expect you to do anything like that.”
“You hired me.”
The discomfort on her face made him want to apologize. In fact, he started to, but she interrupted. “You’re right. I just feel a little awkward treating you like...” She stared at her feet as she chewed on her bottom lip.
“Like a side of delectable beef?”
She huffed out a breath. “I suppose.”
The familiar white lie slipped out before he could stop himself. “I’m okay with this, Cass. If I wasn’t, I couldn’t do what I do.”
Gwen bounded up, beer in hand. “I want to go to Cinderblock and dance.” She glanced between them and smiled. “They’re open until two, so we’ve got a couple of hours to get our groove on.”
“Sure,” Cass answered absently, shifting her attention to Gwen. “We can wrap up here and be at the club in under thirty.”
The bride shifted innocent eyes on him. “Want to come, Dalton?”
He opened his mouth to politely decline.
Gwen interrupted. “Don’t say no. Please?”
“Cass?” Asking her seemed right, because if he went, he’d be off the clock and on his own, and this time he was going to dance with her, not for her. He would touch her body. And chances were good he’d stop thinking altogether and simply let things go where they would. “Would you be comfortable with me tagging along?”
She looked at him, those blue eyes nearly bottomless. “I’d love to have you...” Her breath caught and her eyes widened. “Join us! I’d love to have you join us.”
The strange connection he’d felt earlier sparked, an electric live wire running between them. He didn’t, couldn’t, drag his eyes away when he answered. “Give me an extra half hour to run home and grab some decent clubbing clothes. They’re not a tie-required kind of place, but I’m pretty sure pants aren’t optional.”
Cass’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, yet nothing came out.
Gwen slipped an arm around her waist and addressed Eric. “See you there.”
And that, as the saying went, was that.
* * *
CASS MOVED ON AUTOPILOT as she rounded up the large party, gave them the address for the club and made sure everyone with keys was sober. As the last of the women left the apartment, Cass raced to her closet, grabbed her favorite little black dress and slipped it on. She swiped on some extra mascara and dabbed on perfume. Then she pulled out the man-killing red lipstick. It was her favorite accessory when she wanted to feel powerful, but she rarely wore it. More often than not it suited her just fine to be part of the scenery rather than the focal point. Not that she was a wallflower. Far from it. She just got so tired of men passing judgment based on her appearance and totally discounting her brain. Lipstick poised at her lips, she hesitated.
“What are you doing?” she asked her reflection. “Nothing can happen between you. You know it. What he is could ruin you.”
“You coming, Cass?” Gwen stepped into the master bathroom. “Oh, hey. The red lipstick. My Spidey Sense told me you were into Dalton.”
“I just...” She shook her head. “It’s so stupid.”
“Why?” Gwen moved to stand beside her, slipping an arm around Cass’s waist. “How long has it been since you had a little fun? Serious fun—the kind that’s slightly reckless and totally irresponsible.”
Cass studied her best friend’s reflection in the mirror as she thought, really thought, about the question. “I don’t remember.” The answer depressed her. She closed her eyes and sagged against the counter.
“That’s what I figured,” Gwen said on barely a whisper. “You’ve turned into the person we swore we’d never become, the one who loses her life to the job, becomes the job, is only the job.” Reaching up, she gently unpinned Cass’s hair and ran her fingers through the unruly waves as the mass tumbled free. “Live a little. Dance with Dalton tonight.”
“He’s a stripper.”
“You could’ve been a stripper.”
Cass’s eyes flashed open. “What?” she choked.
“You’re gorgeous. It’s one of the things you hide behind, using your looks like a shield to keep people at bay.” Gwen rubbed her arm briskly. “It’s one of the reasons you have your nickname.”
“I’m not an Ice Princess.” The words were hard, but damn it, she hated being called frigid.
“Prove it.” Gwen squeezed Cass’s hand then let go, staring at their side-by-side reflections. “Bring the lipstick or don’t, but we’re going.”
“He’s not going to show up.”
Gwen snorted and shook her head. “We talked about this, Negative Nancy.”
“Let me change—”
“No.”
The single word was hard and uncompromising. Cass looked up, surprise pushing her eyebrows up her forehead. “No?”
“You put on what made you feel pretty, seductive and desirable. It stays. Let’s go.” Gwen spun and started out of the bathroom.
Cass pushed off the vanity and raced past Gwen. “I’ll hurry!” She grabbed skinny jeans and a short white top. Stripping quickly, she pulled the shirt on and hopped on first one leg and then the other as she worked herself into the jeans. She shoved her feet into the first pair of stilettos she could reach. “Ready,” she shouted.
“Lipstick?”
Cass paused and gazed at the tube she’d tossed on her bed. “What the hell,” she muttered before calling out to Gwen, “I’ll put it on in the car.”
Grabbing the lipstick, she stalked from the room, a little extra sway to her hips.
* * *
THE CLUB WASN’T QUITE as crowded as normal, probably due to the weather. That was fine with Cass. It meant she had more room to move. Gwen had been right. Dancing was exactly what Cass had needed.
Five or six songs into the evening, she finally stopped watching the door for Dalton. Disappointment that he hadn’t shown proved a bitter pill.
Gwen had hit her where it hurt when she’d pointed out Cass was turning into the person they’d sworn to each other they’d never become. Becoming that woman, the one who was so focused on her career she forgot how to live, terrified her. It made her that much more of her father’s daughter, and that was a connection she wanted to sever regardless of the cost. She’d admittedly swung the emotional pendulum toward the opposite extreme when she’d decided to hit on Dalton, but it would have been fun.
Weaving through the crowd, she reached the bar without much hassle.
The bartender, an attractive guy with obvious Nordic heritage, leaned toward her. “What can I get you, beautiful?”
“Michelob Light in the bottle.”
“A simple beer girl. You may have just stolen my heart.”
“Simple? Never. Stolen your heart?” Cass shrugged with easy nonchalance. “Like a thief in the night, baby.”
The bartender slid the beer across the deep bar. “On the house for the thief, then.”
Several bills landed beside the beer. “I’ve got her covered.”
Cass rolled her eyes and started to tell the stranger to shop somewhere else, but he leaned in and his breath whispered hot through her hair. “Sorry I’m late.”
Her heart stuttered before picking up a hard, tattooing rhythm. Lifting her beer and taking a long draw, she was half amused and half irritated to find that her hand was shaking.
The bartender watched them, clearly assessing the man at her back. “I’m under the impression the lady doesn’t need someone to buy her drinks.”
“It’s not a matter of need, buddy. Tonight’s all about want. But if she doesn’t want me to buy her a drink, I trust she’ll say so.”
The physical presence behind her retreated a step.
“I appreciate the generosity,” she interjected, moving into that hard, hot body and pressing against him.
The bartender shrugged and moved on to the next order with an easy smile.
Turning, she looked up into stormy green eyes. “Thanks.”
“You seem to have a champion.” Dalton’s tone was cool. “You know him?”
“Nope. I imagine he’s just being courteous.” She took another sip of her beer. “You want something to drink?”
Dalton wrapped his hand around hers and lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a long, slow draw.
She couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked as he swallowed. Images of his head thrown back, lips parted, shoulders bunched, the muscles and tendons in his neck straining flashed like Polaroid shots, each drifting to the floor of her mind to lie in a suggestive pile. Desire-fueled embarrassment burned up the back of her neck as she mentally undressed him where he stood.
“Dalton!” Gwen wiggled her way to his side and slid an arm around his waist.
He casually draped an arm over her shoulder and released Cass’s beer. “And how’s my favorite bride tonight?”
Said bride preened a little. “Better, now that you’re here. We’re under full-frontal attack from the natives.”
“Hmm. I’m more a rear-approach kind of guy.”
Cass choked on her beer. Ignoring Gwen’s waggling eyebrows, she wheezed and gasped, eyes watering.
Gwen absently waved a hand in her direction. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She likes sex but has to warm up before she gives good innuendo.”
Her mouth fell open. “Warm... I don’t... Up...”
Gwen tipped her chin to bat her eyes at Dalton. “Want to dance?”
Tapping the tip of her nose, he gave a single nod. “That’s what I came for.”
Sharp irritation cut through Cass as the two wordlessly abandoned her for the dance floor. What the hell was wrong with her? She was normally so smooth and in control of situations involving men, situations like this. She’d teased and flirted with the bartender without thinking about it. With Dalton? She was one short step from needing behavioral anti-seizure medication. Embarrassed, she stewed a bit and watched her best friend and...whatever he was get their groove on.
They moved together so easily, Dalton complementing Gwen’s every twist and turn. His hands slid over her in a casually suggestive manner. She followed his direction. They were good together, and Cass found herself scowling. An uncomfortable sensation she was entirely unwilling to consider burned behind her belly button. Wrapping her free arm around her waist, she fisted the hem of her shirt and continued to sip her drink as she fought to ignore what she feared was jealousy. She was not jealous.
“You’re looking a little fierce, beautiful.”
She glanced toward the owner of the voice.
The bartender stood behind her, a towel thrown over his shoulder.
Her attention drifted back to the dance floor, and she rolled her head from side to side. “The night isn’t going the way I planned.”
“It goes against every fiber of my being, but if you want to make him sit up and take notice, I’ll help out.”
This time she faced him. “Every fiber of your being, huh?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Hands on his hips, he dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and focused his light blue gaze on her. “Let’s go.” He tossed his towel on the bar, grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the dance floor. Waving at the DJ booth, he gave a signal and received a nod in return. “My name’s Todd, and you’re going to owe me a drink.”
“I’m Cass. And if dancing with me is that much of a hardship, why do it?”
“After seeing how you moved earlier? Dancing with you is no hardship at all. I just have a feeling that not taking you home is going to be one of my life’s greatest regrets.”
She arched a brow. “You seem certain I’d go home with you. I don’t know whether to admire your self-confidence or suggest you kiss my ass.”
His mouth feathered up at one corner. “I’d settle for your admiration.”
Cass laughed. “I believe I’m rather fond of you, Todd.”
The song wound down and the DJ’s voice, deep and suggestive, came across the sound system. “This one is designed to help you ladies get under his skin.”
Music poured out of speakers, the electric tempo fast. Every solitary bass note pounded through her core and settled between her thighs.
Todd lifted her arms over her head. Her shirt slipped up, and he traced his fingertips down her bare sides. Hands at her waist, he encouraged her to turn away from him. “Listen to the lyrics and do whatever feels right.”
She closed her eyes and began to move, following the soft suggestions of his hands, letting him mold his body to hers. The drumbeat fell into the song. At the same time, the lyrics registered—lyrics that promised uncomplicated, no-strings-attached sex. Her irritation morphed to sensual hunger as everything in her tuned in to the seduction of the music.
