by K. A. Tucker
Another round of snorts and chuckles fills the room and I’m reminded of how much I’ve missed hanging out with the guys outside of Penny’s. I’ve just let myself get too wrapped up with all things club-related lately.
I need to get a life. Ideally, one that includes Charlie.
“A drink?” Dan offers, already reaching for the bottle of Rémy that he knows I prefer. Normally, I’d never accept any of my friends catering to my expensive taste, but Dan and Storm can easily afford it and Storm won’t have it any other way.
“How’s the club doing these days?” Dan asks as he hands me a filled glass. “Ben told me about the metal detectors. You’ve got more scum coming in, now that Teasers is closed?”
“Yeah . . . it’s an investment, but it’s worth it.” I take a sip of my drink.
He nods his head slowly, a curious look passing over his face, and I wonder where this conversation is headed this time. Conversations with Dan about the club tend to head in one general direction.
His voice lowers to say, “Starting to hear rumblings of someone new in Miami. From up north, bringing in pure street-grade heroin. Not one of these idiot gangbangers who we can usually take down in a few weeks. An organized operation. This could be big. They expect it’ll lead to a turf war with the cartel.” Dan studies me closely with his next question. “You haven’t seen or heard anything?”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. I’m not the only one who had a background check done. After Storm quit Penny’s, she admitted to me that Detective Dan had made inquiries and pulled some favors, suspicious of me. It didn’t take him long to dig up my past. I may have—miraculously—avoided a criminal record for my own crimes, but I’m still tied to an ugly paper trail as it relates to my parents.
I was only involved in the drug and prostitution scene by relation. I guess good ol’ Daddy didn’t think mixing me up with that side of the family business was a smart move, when he could make so much money off my fighting. Dan’s not stupid, though. He’s seen his share of that world. He knows it’s not built in silos—separating the dealers from the pimps from the thieves from the murderers. He knows that I’ve made all kinds of connections, whether I meant to or not. Hell, I still get approached by bookies once in a while for a big-ticket fight. Ten years later, all the way in Miami! And then there’s the fact that I’m in the business that I’m in, where I’m constantly approached with illicit propositions.
Dan knows I could find out, if I wanted to get involved. If I wanted to risk being labeled a police informant, basically painting a target on my chest and putting everyone around me at risk.
“I haven’t heard a thing, Dan. And you know those scumbags are not coming anywhere near Penny’s. That’s why I have the security that I do. That’s why I’m selective with who I hire.”
Dan nods his head once. “I know, Cain. But I told the guys I’d ask, anyway.” With a heavy exhale, he quickly changes the topic, his tone lightening up. “So, tell me about this new dancer at Penny’s.”
“The one that’s got Cain choking the chicken in his office every night?” Ben hollers, while furiously clicking keys to pummel Nate’s player in the face. “Uh-oh. Look! He’s pitching a tent already. ”
“Fuck off, Morris,” I throw back with an annoyed chuckle. “I’m not . . .” I close my eyes and heave a sigh. There’s no point defending myself. We’re not at Penny’s. That means the gloves are off and the jackass is just getting warmed up. Thank God he doesn’t know about last night.
“That’s how it’s done!” Ben shouts, tossing the controller at Nate’s broad chest. “I mean, seriously, Cain . . .” Ben now turns to give me his undivided attention, shaking his head. “Such a travesty. You don’t deserve to own a club. Fuck, you don’t deserve to own a dick!”
I know Ben’s just shooting his mouth off for entertainment purposes. We’ve had more than a few frank drunken-Ben conversations in the past, where he expressed his undying admiration for me for not taking advantage of my position.
Still, I toss a glare at Dan, who can’t keep the smirk off his face. “Thanks, man, for bringing her up.”
Dan lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Just surprised to hear the man of steel is finally hung up on a woman like the rest of us poor suckers, that’s all.”
“I’m not hung up.”
The coughs and poorly muffled laughter from the couch area confirm that no one is buying that. Hell, I’m not even buying it. After last night, my thoughts are more firmly hot-wired to Charlie than they were before. Hell, she knows most of my personal shit! For ten years, I’ve kept everything closed in. One night with her and I’m spilling my guts like a prisoner in a torture room. Only I wasn’t tortured. Far from it.
“Charlie might give you a shot, you know. If you’d stop your nightly jerk-off sessions already and ask her to yank your—” Ben’s voice cuts of abruptly, his eyes riveted on something behind me. Dan and I turn in unison to find the subject of his crass banter standing at the entrance in a blue bikini, a veggie platter in her hands.
Ben’s right. I am pitching a tent at the sight of that body. It’s only that much more desirable, now that I’ve been inside it.
Now that I’m desperate to get inside it again.
But I’m ecstatic to just see her again. I must have a stupid-ass smile on my face right now.
Fuck it, I don’t care.
I watch her stroll in, struggling to close my gaping jaw. “Storm asked me to bring this to you guys,” she explains, her bare feet soundless against the hardwood. Of course, Storm did. Because I’m here.
For a girl who had to have overhead Ben’s crassness, given how damn loud he is, she’s taking it rather well. No flushed cheeks, no mortified stare, nothing. I, on the other hand, grip the back of my neck to keep from lunging over the couch to pummel Ben.
“Hey, Charlie.” Ben’s big, dumb grin is in full force now. The guy’s so smooth around women, he probably doesn’t feel the slightest bit awkward. “When did you get here?” He certainly doesn’t feel awkward about checking out her chest.
“Just now. With Ginger.” Leaning forward, she offers her hand to Trent. “Hi, I’m Charlie.”
There’s a two-second delay in Trent’s response, where he simply stares at her face before he calmly lays down the game stick and his beer, and reaches forward to accept her hand with that damn smile that all the girls at the club still chatter about every time he shows up there. “Trent. Hi.”
The handshake lasts one, two, three seconds too long and I’m grinding my teeth, watching for any skin flushing or lip licking on her part. Jeez . . . I know Trent is head-over-heels in love with Kacey, so my jealousy is completely unfounded, and yet here I am, ready to pull them apart.
One night. Just one night with her and I’m done for.
“Hey, Nate.” Charlie winks at the ominous teddy bear, who smiles at her before flashing a rare, wide toothy grin my way. We connect every morning with a quick phone call or text. Today, he showed up at my door. He looked ready to beat the truth out of me by the time I finally confessed.
Rounding the couch, Charlie extends a hand to Dan. “I didn’t get to officially meet you last night, what with my passing out and all.”
“Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you.” At least Dan has the decency not to stare at her.
“And who’s been filling your head with lies about me?” she smoothly retorts, those beautiful wide lips of hers stretching into a grin.
“Cain never lies,” Ben throws back with a smirk.
Her playful eyes flicker over to me, where they rest for several seconds—an amused light dancing within them.
I fight the urge to pull her in to me but I can’t keep my gaze from dropping to those round tits and my mouth instantly parts, remembering the softness of them against my tongue. When I look back up, Charlie’s eyes have darkened slightly.
> “Good to know.” With a wink and a firm, slow rub up and back down my arm, she turns to Dan and says, “Storm wanted me to tell you that she needs you at the grill. Tanner’s out of control.”
With a heavy sigh, Dan mutters, “Did he bring that damn spray gun again?”
“Yes.” Charlie giggles. “And it’s ridiculous.”
Shaking his head, Dan smiles warmly down at her. “Okay, tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
With my glass to my mouth, my focus trails Charlie out the door, her hips swaying teasingly. She knows I’m watching. She must know.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, man. Wow.” Dan’s brow furrows. “A bit young, though . . .”
“Twenty-two.”
He blows a mouthful of air out. “Well, if you were ever to give in to an employee, I wouldn’t blame you for that one.”
Too late. And I’m going to do anything I can to give in again. Tonight.
“Until then, do you want me to call Mercy to deal with your little problem?” Ben asks. “She’s fantastic. And discreet.”
I level Ben with a glare. “You’d better be fucking joking.”
“Of course I’m joking! I haven’t touched her . . . yet.” His face splits into a wide grin.
“Good, because I’d seriously fire your ass.”
“Well, then . . .” Ben slaps his hand on the coffee table. “Consider this my notice.”
By the looks that exchange between me and the others, we’re all wondering the same thing—is Ben serious?
He winks, then offers in a more somber tone, “I landed a full-time gig at a law firm in town. Just found out this morning.”
“Seriously, Morris?” Nate presses.
“Yep.” Ben’s arms stretch out over his head, his hands nesting behind his neck as he sighs heavily.
I wasn’t expecting to lose Ben so soon. “But, don’t you have another month before you get your bar exam results?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, but I aced that. I’m not worried. They’re not worried. I’ll just be considered in a probationary period until I’m official.”
My previous annoyance with Ben instantly vanishes. I close the distance as he accepts a congratulatory slap across the chest from Nate. I offer him my hand, which he takes firmly, a glimmer of satisfaction in those blue irises. “We’re gonna miss you, buddy, but that’s amazing. You’ve done well.” He really has. After blowing his knee out and losing his shot as a star quarterback, Ben leveraged his brain—one most people wouldn’t realize he had—to put himself through law school. Now, after years at Penny’s, Ben is moving on.
The tactless brute bows his head, a rare pensive look flashing over his face. I’ll bet he hasn’t bothered to mention it to his dad. The cranky old scrooge would somehow twist it into a failure. I think that’s why Ben is such an easy, happy guy all the time. He’s deathly afraid of ever being compared to his own father.
“Seriously, dude, don’t go out there with that. It’s embarrassing. I’ve got a picture of Charlie onstage that I can send to your phone, if you need it while you deal with your issue in the can.”
The moment’s over.
chapter twenty-six
■ ■ ■
CHARLIE
I shouldn’t be here.
“Ahhh . . . this is the life,” Ginger sighs, sinking back into her chair with a fresh margarita in hand. “If only we didn’t have to work tonight.”
I grunt in agreement, taking in the stunning stone patio area that overlooks an enormous oddly shaped pool with several alcoves. The entire space is adorned with various tropical flowers. Sitting where we are, we’re completely protected from the sun with a pergola and lattice.
“Thank God for the breeze,” Ginger adds, and my eyes follow hers to the two oversized ceiling fans affixed to the beams above us, working overtime to circulate the hot summer air.
The sound of flames sputtering pulls my attention away to the far end, where Tanner—completing the “Cousin Eddie” look with a straw hat, black socks pulled halfway up his calves, and sandals—is demonstrating to Dan why his use of the two-handed squirt gun on a grill should be marketed. Alternating between head shakes and low chuckles, Dan finally gets Tanner to surrender his weapon and leave the grilling to him.
To the newly appointed DEA agent.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I didn’t really have a choice, I tell myself. Ginger was hell bent on bringing me. When she admitted with a smile that Cain was hell bent on her bringing me, too, any hope for an argument died on my lips.
When Storm directed me to take a tray of veggies to a room down the hall, I didn’t expect to be walking into a group of men talking about me yanking on parts of Cain. Coming from Ben’s mouth, it’s not exactly shocking, but still. I’m not sure how I kept the blush from my face. I was sure my knees would buckle for a moment when they all stopped to stare at me.
By the look on Cain’s face, he was both surprised and very pleased to see me. By his blatant ogling, I’m pretty sure he wants more of what he got last night. That thought makes my entire body hum with excitement.
“You okay? You’ve been quieter than usual today.” I turn to find Ginger watching me intently.
“Yeah, fine. Just tired,” I murmur through another yawn. I feel like I could sleep for days.
“Late night?”
“Yeah.” I help myself to a carrot. Tired and hungry. I haven’t eaten all day. My body is all kinds of messed up.
“Hmm . . . So, did you finally break that stoic horse and work him in good?”
“Ginger!” My wide eyes dart over to Tanner. He’s within earshot, but his back is to us and he keeps it that way. Given that he’s avoided all eye contact with me since my near-nude fiasco with the deliveryman yesterday, I’m not surprised.
Thankfully, Storm passes through the doorway at that precise moment, balancing two bowls against her belly, exclaiming loudly, “Chow time!” Cain trails behind her, his strong arms laden down with more food. I noticed earlier that he kept a bit of the scruff on his face, shaving everywhere except the area around his chin and mouth.
I really loved the feel of that soft scratch against my skin.
My heart automatically starts racing and I catch myself smiling, memories of last night hitting me deep in my belly. All other realities fade into the background and my problems somehow become less urgent, less serious. That’s what being around Cain does for me. He’s a mental shield against all that is bad in my life. Even stripping onstage turned into something I could sort of enjoy—in a twisted way—because of him.
“Cain! We were just talking about you,” Ginger chirps, relishing any opportunity to tease her boss.
“I’ll bet,” he mutters dryly, disappearing behind me to place the platters down on a side table. A second later, I feel cool hands curl around my neck and his index fingers slowly trace along my collarbone.
He must feel the hard swallow in my throat as I try to calm myself. What is he doing? Does he want everyone to know that we slept together last night?
Or . . . are we a thing now?
“Sorry to be rude, but the spawn demands food,” Storm murmurs, not waiting to load a plate for herself. “Ladies, help yourselves before those rabid men come out. They forget their manners sometimes.” Cain makes a point of pulling my chair out as I stand, his hands giving my waist an affectionate squeeze as I pass by, sending a thrill through my stomach. Storm happens to glance over her shoulder at that precise moment to catch Cain’s hand on me and a sly smile touches her lips. I’m happy to see it’s not a venom-laced sneer, like the one I’d expect from China.
Still, I wonder if they ever slept together. I wonder if he’d tell me the truth, if I asked. I wonder if I even want to know the truth. The idea of Cain with another woman—or women—makes me grit my teeth.
I just make it back to the table with a plate of food when the processional of large men files through the door. Cain’s hands once again finds my bare skin, his thumb rubbing up and down my spine, giving a light tug at the string on my bikini top, as if ready to untie it, as he pushes my chair in all the way. If I focus intently enough, I can still feel him inside me. I really shouldn’t think about that right now.
I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect him to be so open about whatever is between us.
I didn’t expect to want it so badly.
My heart skips a beat as he takes a seat next to me, instead of at the outdoor sectional couch where Nate’s already making himself comfortable. Leaning in, his mouth grazes over my ear as he whispers, “Sorry, but after last night, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” It sends a shiver through me. “I hope you’re okay with that.”
By the smirk touching his face, he damn well knows I am more than okay with it. By the glance down at my bikini top, no doubt noticing the two tiny protruding bumps, he can now see proof of it, too.
I sit quietly as he pours a glass of water for me. “Tell me if you want something stronger and I’ll get it from the bar for you, okay?” I nod but say nothing. Cain doting on me hits me deep in the chest, in an emotional wave that’s both soothing and crippling.
“You serving women today, Cain?” Ginger calls out with an impish grin as she slaps Ben’s muscular ass and cuts in front of him to load her plate. “Or just the one you’re trying to impress?”
“He can be a smooth fucker if he wants to—” Ben’s mutter is cut off with a sharp elbow to his gut from Ginger and a bark of “language!” from Storm. Ben’s eyes instantly flash to the eight-year-old quietly hanging onto our every word from her seat next to Nate. He winces an apology to Storm.
“Here. Keep quiet.” As if to prevent anything more from coming out of Ben’s mouth, Ginger shoves three carrot sticks into it. He grins lasciviously at her but doesn’t utter another word, busy chomping down like a horse.
“So, Charlie . . . Ginger told me you were a gymnast?” Storm says.