Stripped Down. Kelli Ireland. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Kelli Ireland
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472047311
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      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