Tinged (The Electric Tunnel Book 3)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  Billy shrugged. “Yeah, I thought Natalie deserved something after pushing out Asher’s fourth kid.”

  “Blech.” Quinn pretended to throw up as Lillie and Parker ran in circles around Lynx.

  “Okay, okay,” I told Billy. “Why don’t you two go home? We’ll take the kids up soon and give Nat your flowers, and then take the kids home.”

  “I brought Asher’s SUV with the car seats.” Billy handed me the keys, looking mighty happy to get a baby-fevered Sadie to himself.

  “Of course,” I said like I knew what the hell I was talking about. “Car seats.”

  I really know nothing about babies or kids.

  “Michael.” Lynx put a hand on my arm, bringing me out of my head. “Let’s go up. Worry about whatever you’re worrying about later.”

  I nodded and tossed my arm around my woman, who had two kids holding onto one of her hands and Quinn walking protectively by her other side. Life was good, man.

  Lynx

  LYNX PEEKED inside the hospital room and found Natalie lying in bed, a baby asleep on her chest and Asher out cold in the chair.

  “Hey,” Lynx whispered.

  Natalie waved her in. The woman looked gorgeous, her brown hair brushed smooth, and wearing no makeup.

  A commotion sounded out in the hall, and Natalie smiled. “Bring ’em back in. My brood.”

  Lynx went to the door and waved, and in walked the troops.

  “Daddy,” Parker yelled, wrestling Asher from his sleep.

  “Hey, dude.” Asher scooped him up and placed him on his lap, kissing his cheek. “You smell like peanut butter and chocolate. Where’s my candy?”

  “I ate it all!”

  “You little sh—” Asher winked, and Natalie glared at him. “I mean, you should have.”

  Mike laughed. “Caught Quinn about to make the same mistake downstairs.”

  This time, Natalie turned her glare on Quinn.

  “Who do we have here?” Mike leaned over the baby.

  “This is Lulu.” Natalie lifted the small bundle off her chest, and showed off the baby’s perfect little face and sleepy eyes. “Isn’t she perfect? Her eyes are light blue, so I’m hoping they go silver like her daddy’s. That’s what Parker’s did.”

  Lynx walked toward the bed, her hormones in high gear. “Can I hold her?”

  “Of course.”

  Lynx held the little baby until it was time to go, her only solace knowing she was able to play house for the next few days with the other kids.

  She wanted a baby.

  Bad.

  Six years later

  LIKE SO many other mornings, Lynx walked barefoot onto the sand, waves lapping in front of her, the house quiet behind her. Raising her face to the sun, she welcomed its kiss on her skin, warming her from the outside in. She walked to the water’s edge and stared at the horizon. A fine orange line dotted where the water met the sky.

  This was her life. It was a good one, a beautiful one, and a special one.

  A brightly colored one.

  Her beginning had been rough, her middle an adventure, but from now until the end, it was meant to be radiant. She’d never imagined it would be this glorious.

  An arm wrapped around her waist.

  “Morning.” Mike’s voice was gravelly, the way she liked it. His front pressed firmly to her back, also the way she liked it.

  Lynx felt safe and protected in the arms of her bouncer. Of course, now he was a legitimate businessman, but he’d always be her tough guy.

  “Hey.” She leaned her head back into his shoulder.

  “You good?”

  She nodded. “Just admiring the view.”

  “Me too.” He squeezed her hip, and Lynx smiled. “You know what today is?”

  His words tickled her ear. Another smile brightened her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it.

  “Our anniversary. A long fucking time ago, I went to a party in a penthouse atop a Vegas casino. I was a real knight in shining armor and stood up for a lady in distress. Turns out, she was my queen and I was her king. Just took us a while to figure it out.”

  Mike’s breath was warm on her neck, and she let that and his words seep in like coffee in the wee hours. His hand grazed the small bump of her belly.

  Lynx turned, the sun beating on her braids. “I love you, Michael Anthony Wind. Thank you for always standing up for me.”

  “Love you too, babe.” He bent and kissed her, copping a feel of her ass all the while.

  “Mom, look! Mom, look!”

  Mike didn’t let her pull her lips away for one more quick beat, and then she had to tear herself away to look up. Running down from the house came their son, Chandler, shirtless and wearing only pajama bottoms, all tanned with a head full of big brown curls.

  “Mom!”

  “Chandler,” Samara yelled from behind him. “Let them be.” She ran after him, but he was faster.

  “Dad! Mom!” Chandler stood, catching his breath, a big smile on his face.

  “Something’s missing,” Lynx said.

  Mike looked up, tapping a finger on his chin. “Hmm, what could it be?”

  “I lost a tooth,” their son yelled, jumping up and down and kicking sand everywhere. “Aunt Sammy was there, drinking her coffee, texting with Landon, and pop . . . out it came!”

  “Were you a tough guy?”

  “Yeah, I’m Big Chandler because you’re my dad, and you’re Big Mike!”

  “Morning,” Samara said. “I tried to keep him up there and let you two have a moment. Sorry.”

  “Nah, it’s all good. This is what it’s all about.” Mike ruffled the curls on top of Chandler’s head. “Landon good?”

  She nodded. “He’ll be home soon.”

  Sammy was staying with them while Landon was out of the country on special assignment. He still enjoyed chasing the bad guys, especially after what Lynx and Sammy had endured. His character had to be renamed in Lynx’s book since he was still undercover, but she hoped one day she could write his story.

  Truth be told, Lynx loved having her whole gang together. Why else would Mike buy a gargantuan house? He might like his alone time with his wife and son, but she’d never had a big family . . .

  “Did you call Lisa?” Lynx bent down and kissed the top of her son’s head.

  Chandler shook his head. “I’m gonna call now.”

  “You know she’ll be upset she wasn’t the first to know.”

  Chandler nodded. “Because I’m named for her, I know, I know. But I don’t get why we don’t call her Chantilly.”

  “One day, tough guy.” Mike picked up his son and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on, you can call from my car. We can go check on the Firefly together.”

  Chandler’s eyes grew wide. “Can I get breakfast there? I want pancakes. Then I can swim! Please?”

  “Yep, you can have whatever you want, my son. All you have to do is be respectful and proud of your mom.”

  Chandler grinned at Lynx. “She’s a queen.”

  “Damn straight she is.”

  Lynx narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Michael.”

  “What?” Mike said with a big grin. “I only said damn. Let it go. He lost a tooth today; he’s practically a man.”

  Landon

  I SANK into the soft leather of Carson’s private plane, pretty fucking happy with my decision. I’d spent a long time at the agency. Longer than I’d ever expected.

  After getting those girls out of that godforsaken place, I couldn’t let that shit go. I knew everyone had their dragons to slay, so I kept mine locked up tight . . . except when I talked with my shrink once a week. She’d heard way more than she deserved to hear, but when I realized I was falling for the beautiful Samara, I had to slay my own demons.

  What I’d seen and heard—as well as what I was continuing to witness working for the agency—it all needed to come pouring out.

  Unable to stop working for the government just yet, I continued traveling, fighting for what
was right, gaining intel, helping to rescue beautiful young women who deserved way more than what they were given in life. But none of them captured my heart like Sam. She was the one for me, and lucky me, I was the one for her.

  She’d made a name for herself in Las Olas, successful in her business there. Since I was traveling so much, she spent more and more time at Lynx’s place when I was gone. She didn’t know the details of my missions, but I was glad she was safe and happy while I was gone. There was no reason to trouble her with the knowledge of the countless other women still trapped overseas in the trade.

  “We have Wi-Fi on board,” the flight attendant said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Of course. Thanks,” I muttered, then pulled out my phone and texted Sam.

  LANDON: Hi, baby! On my way. Looks like you and me are going to spend a lot more time together.

  It didn’t take long for her to text back one of those bitmojis with her caricature reading HAPPY RETIREMENT.

  Yeah, I was going civilian. Sort of.

  Carson had offered me a job about a year ago. He was expanding, bringing on a few other investigators, mostly young guys. He said he needed someone older and more experienced on the East Coast who could keep an eye on the young bucks, which was where he said I came in.

  It took some convincing on Carson’s part, but when Sam came home crying from the store one day last week, telling me she was pregnant—I knew.

  I was done.

  Sam had been in love with her nephew since he’d been in Lynx’s belly, and now she would have her own child to cherish. Our child. And the last thing I wanted was to be an absentee father. So now I was the next PI in Carson’s empire.

  He called me the old guy.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” the attendant said, interrupting my thoughts for the second time.

  “I bet that suave ass has some top-of-the-line shit onboard.” I smiled and she nodded. “Bring me something good. I’m celebrating a new lease on life.”

  “Coming right up. Congrats, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  What she didn’t know was all the women I helped—they were my real reward.

  Especially my wife, and now my unborn child.

  Five years ago, Sunday

  I BREATHED a sigh of relief. This was exactly what I needed tonight. All it took was one lap through the Pink Leop—or the Leop, as it was known—and I felt like I was transported to some of my dirtier fantasies. By dirty, I meant the gritty, baser shit I tended to think about, but didn’t act on—too frequently, anyway. I was no angel, and never claimed to be one. I’d had a lot of women, and tonight, I really needed to get off hard.

  I didn’t do drugs. I did sex, and the not the missionary-style, lovey-dovey stuff.

  Snaking my way around the main bar and heading toward a side stage in the back of the club, I set my eyes on where I wanted to land.

  The Leop was set up differently from my club. Instead of a main stage there were four small stages, one per corner, each platform featuring a different tantalizing vignette. I couldn’t walk fast enough to the back right. I licked my lips as my feet ate up the floor, my heart pounding as I neared the tiny platform.

  At my club, the Electric Tunnel, we had a single main stage looping around the front of the club where we featured either one main act, like my Sienna Flower, or two or three scenes simultaneously at different ends or corners. Our lap dance business was most likely quadruple what the Leop did, by the looks of it. Here the customers—mostly men, but a few women, too— worked their way around the room as they checked out the different stages, which was wasted time, in my opinion.

  Not wasting mine right now. That fucking scene playing out is hot, and my dick and I have to get closer.

  My club had one main focal point, but not everyone could get close enough, so we brought the act right to their seats with a private lap dance. It was a win/win for everyone. More money for the dancers and me, and a much better view for the customer.

  As I neared the end of the bar, the regular head bartender, Ryan, reached over and grabbed my shoulder. “Look what the cat dragged in! None other than Asher Peterson, the guy remaking the stripper biz on the other side of town.”

  I laughed, stretched my hand over to shake his, and answered, “You got that right, but no harm in swinging by and checking out the competition. That way I get to catch up with assholes like you.”

  Ryan chuckled. “I’m kidding, dude. We all know you got your sights set on something bigger and better over at the Electric Tunnel. Just happy to see you can still slum it over at our fine establishment. We know our market, and you’re it.” He slapped my back in jest and asked what I wanted to drink.

  I ordered a shot. I figured it would be quick, and I was practically hopping back and forth on my feet, fighting my desire to get to the action.

  Finally, he poured, I lifted the little glass, tossed the burning liquid down my throat, and gave the dude a small chin lift in thanks. “Catch you later, Ryan,” I said and moved like a leopard on the prowl.

  Earlier, I told myself I wanted to check out the competition, so I could convince myself I was doing better than them. But it was really something more. I had my limits, and I was nearing them. I needed to get off. Period.

  The Pink Leop had been around for a while, and had a reputation for allowing quite a bit of crazy shit to go down. Word on the street was you could get just about anything you wanted done to you, or for you, in the private rooms. And for the right price, you could take a girl back to your place with you for the night. It was exactly what I didn’t want for the Tunnel, but it didn’t mean I was immune to the stench of sex when I walked through its doors, or that I didn’t want to partake a little bit. I did. It was exactly why I was here, pushing a few gross fat and sweaty men out of my way so I could get closer to the action.

  So what if the owners lost money in lap dances? They obviously made up for it in their private rooms. Yeah, some of the shit they allowed wasn’t exactly on the up-and-up. “Heavy touching” was probably putting it nicely, but hey, what the hell did I care? I didn’t own the place. I was here for a good time like the next guy. If they got into trouble with the law, it wasn’t my problem.

  Finally, I sank down into a worn-out red suede chair to the side of the scene that caught my eye. I couldn’t be bothered with how grubby the shitty chair was, pushing out all thoughts of what may have touched its gross fabric over the years. Thank fuck, mine are leather at the Tunnel.

  I was fully laid out in the piece of crap, sticky as all get-out, and I couldn’t be bothered because the two women directly in front of me were hot. Smoking hot, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fake haze whirling all around them from the smoke machine.

  I wanted to take both of them home and test out what they were doing onstage with me in the middle, preferably without any clothes in the way. The girls were both completely naked other than the thongs they wore, one red and the other gold. They stood on either side of a chair set in the middle of the stage, long messy hair falling all around soft and demure shoulders and touching the tips of their nipples, grinding on either end of the piece of furniture while leaning over and groping each other’s tits.

  I was rigid everywhere as I watched in anticipation of what the two would do next. Christ, the way they twisted each other’s nipples, moaning and groaning like it felt better than anything they ever had before, appeared to be incredibly hot. The two luscious babes stared deep into each other’s eyes as if they were soul mates, doing exactly what they would be doing at home, but I knew the truth. They’d much rather be at home on their couch, drinking wine and watching a chick flick.

  My line of work let me see behind the curtain, so I knew it was a ruse, a charade, nothing but pretend, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. They were doing what they were paid to do, which was to titillate the audience, and they were doing a mighty fine job of it from where I was sitting. My eyes focused on the women, even though I could only s
ee their hazy profiles. My dick twitched, anxious to be released from my pants, screaming, “Let me out to play,” and my mind was running through an endless stream of scenes involving the two women and me.

  I motioned to one of the Leop’s managers on the floor. When he appeared by my side, I asked him how much it would cost to take the pair back to a private room. I made a mental note to feel them out and see if one or both of them would accompany me back to my house. Of course, I was hoping for both, but I’d settle for one. I needed some action. Badly.

  The manager set out the deal and I agreed to the terms. I had cash to burn, with a growing business and no real responsibilities at home. After paying for the first hour in advance, I headed to the back to wait for the women in my private booth. Yeah, I stroked myself over my pants a little while waiting for them. So, sue me.

  When the song changed out in the main club, I heard two pairs of heels clicking down the hallway toward the room where I waited. My breathing sped up in time with my heartbeat, and I sat up and waited for the delicious duo to open the door.

  Here they come.

  The outer door opened and closed, then two curvy silhouettes entered my little corner and turned around. I blinked. Then blinked again, hard. I tried to clear my eyes, to get them to focus in the dim, red-hued light.

  Why the hell was everything in this ugly fucking club red?

  I didn’t have time to ponder that right now. Instead I stood up and crossed the space in between the couch where I was sitting and the door in two steps and said, “Holy shit! Natalie, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  Not stopping to wait for an answer, I opened the door and pushed the other girl outside the room toward the nearest bouncer. “Never mind,” I told him. “I changed my mind. I only want one girl. This girl.” I gestured behind me to Natalie. “Keep the extra money.” The girl glanced back at me, a confused look on her face as she tottered toward the bouncer, then I slammed the door shut.

  I stared at the door for an extra moment, trying to contain myself. Thank God there was no one else in the high-backed booth on either side of me because I feared I was about to lose my shit.