Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths, #3)(55)

It almost doesn’t seem real.

“Better?”

“Hmm . . .” Her hand reaches up to steal mine from where it rests on the back of her head, pulling it down to sit laced within her fingers. I don’t know that I’ve ever held a woman’s hand like this. It’s making my nerves short-circuit. I wonder if she feels it too, or if it’s just me. Vibrant eyes open to skate over my features, settling on my mouth. “You’re shaking.”

She’s right. I am shaking. I hadn’t even noticed.

I exhale deeply, trying to regulate my pounding heart. We’re standing so close that I wonder if she can sense it. “When I came in and saw that guy ready to hit you—” My voice cuts off with a crack. “It reminded me of someone. Of something that happened, years ago.”

Charlie’s cool fingers crawl over my neck, tracing the letters of my tattoo, as if showing her understanding without uttering a word.

Keeping my eyes locked on her I ask cautiously, “Who was he, Charlie?” I try to keep the bitterness from my voice but it’s impossible. Even thinking about the bald f*cker makes my fists clench. As happy as I am here with Charlie, a small part of me wants to run out to the parking lot to cripple him. I know Nate will likely rough him up a bit in warning, but it’s not enough.

Her hand finds its way to my cheek, her delicate touch smoothing over my light stubble. I instinctively turn in toward it, letting her fingers graze over my mouth. “I told you, he thought I was someone else,” she purrs, feigning disinterest. But by the sudden tensing in her body, I know it’s all an act. She leans in to rest her cheek against my chest, snaking her arms around my waist, and I selfishly accept the affection, wrapping my arms tightly around her warm, strong body once again, while I let my chin rest on top of her head.

And I marvel at how fast things can change. Ten minutes ago, my cock was throbbing as I watched Charlie’s perfect body torment me onstage, wondering what the hell I would say to her tonight. Wondering if there was anything more to this than an irrepressible physical attraction.

Three minutes ago, I watched someone try to break that same perfect body and the ground opened up beneath me, reminding me how easily I could lose my chance to find out.

And in just seconds, I’m sure that something more profound than strip shows and physical attraction is beginning to develop between us.

In seconds.

I shouldn’t have waited this long. I should have swept her off her feet when she walked through my door. Every second since then, I’ve been losing precious time and possibilities, repeating the mistakes of my past. Nate is right. I can’t change anything that’s happened. I can only learn from it.

But what if this is nothing more than a game for Charlie? I know she’s lying to me about that guy. The only reason I even found out she was in there was because Jeff—one of the bouncers—said something about her going in over the earpiece and Nate caught it.

I thought I was walking into a completely different scene when I barged through that door and yet I barged in anyway, like a jealous freak, ready to scream at her for toying with me the way she has. A part of me is relieved by what I found instead. Knowing that makes me nauseous.

So what the f*ck should I do now? Pushing her to tell me who that guy really is won’t get me anywhere. I sense that by the way she’s acting. But I also can’t have her under a spotlight, having more guys “mistake her” for someone else.

Maybe that’s why the command slips out. “You’re not going up on that stage again for a while.” I hear the tone—the possessive, controlling one that I hate—creep into my words and I immediately recognize that command for what it really is: an excuse to stop her from stripping.

Her arms loosen their hold of my waist as she starts to pull away. “I need the money, Cain.” Her refusal sounds half-hearted, as if she’s saying it because she feels she has to.

I can’t say I’m not f*cking ecstatic about that. I want her to hate the stage and hate stripping.

For anyone but me, that is.

Pushing a strand of hair that’s fallen across her forehead back, I don’t hesitate to offer, “I’ve got some administrative stuff around here you can help me with. It’s easy and I’ll pay you the same. And you’ll be with me.”

Nodding slowly as if processing that possibility, she murmurs, “I guess that will work . . .” In her calculating eyes, I catch a flicker of softness. Relief? “For how long?”

“We’ll see.” Yeah, we’ll see, all right . . . My gaze can’t help from drifting down to the two firm mounds pressed up against my rib cage. If I have my way, this body will never see the stage again. I want these long, muscular limbs, and these perfect tits, and this soft, silky skin to be for my eyes only. I want all of her to myself . . .

A light gasp escapes her lips. Her big brown irises begin to sparkle as she looks up at me and I realize just how close she’s standing to me. By the ghost of a smile touching her lips, she felt that movement.

Exhaling slowly and heavily, I move my hands to grip her waist and force myself to step away from her before this goes from zero to naked in sixty seconds. There’s wasting time and then there’s wasting the first time. Taking Charlie in one of my V.I.P. rooms right now would be just wrong. “Come.” I loop my arm around her waist and pull her close to me. “Let’s ice that cheek.”