Electrified (23 page)

To say it was complicated was putting it mildly. Sienna’s head throbbed while trying to tie all the loose ends together. It was a sordid tale even for Vegas standards, and she wished the whole situation would end favorably for all those involved, although it seemed unlikely. In the end, Asher promised that he would come to her when he was ready to make any decisions. That worked for her.

Now that the little getaway was over and they were back in the city limits of Las Vegas, Sienna was completely on edge when it came to her own affairs of the heart. She’d been massaged, her pores cleared from a facial and the steam room, and she wasn’t one bit relaxed. Between the cowboy—who they now knew was named Sam Charles, thanks to Mike calling in a favor with the police—and anticipating Carson’s return, she was unraveling.

As for Sam Charles, all Mike’s police buddy needed was one security camera image and a fingerprint from his glass at the club, and he pulled up a file. Sam Charles had been born and bred in New Jersey, and certainly had no reason to sport a cowboy hat. Sienna was convinced he was after her, thinking he could throw everyone off with his stupid hat and Southern bullshit.

Sienna’s nerves were unraveling, the worry threatening to tear her apart over this guy, Sam. What was he doing in Vegas? When did he get there? What did he want?

Her, of course!

Mike had been keeping a close eye on the Tunnel and other strip joints in Vegas. Sam hadn’t been seen in days. Mike felt confident that he ran him out of town, but Sienna wasn’t so certain. She didn’t know why, but she was convinced he would be coming back to get her.

On top of Sam Charles, Carson was officially back. He’d texted her the night before to say he was wrapping up his work week in Los Angeles after a fast turnaround back east, and he would be at the club to see her show tonight.

As she put on her makeup, Sienna wondered if Carson was out there already. Should she invite him backstage? No, absolutely not. She had too much on her mind and needed time to get herself straight.

She was royally screwed up between Sam Charles, who had tracked down where she lived, and the impending sexual tension with Carson. One man was going to mess with her heart, and the other was going to mess up her whole life.

Her whole life, which she had carefully crafted to stay alive, could be blown to bits by an imposter in a cowboy getup. It could all come crumbling down, and yet the only thing on her mind was kissing Carson. She wanted to do it so badly, she was willing to risk everything.

She wasn’t as smart and strong as she thought she was, because she was ready to throw it all away for one man. A beautiful man.

Sienna mentally shook herself and made a firm plan. She would dance, invite Carson back for a drink, feign exhaustion, and go home. Period.

Lost in deep thought, she sat in her dressing room already wearing her college-girl look for tonight’s performance—a cherry-red thong, royal-blue knee socks, a too-small Superwoman T-shirt tied tightly in a knot at her navel, with her hair down and lightly curled. Mike knocked, interrupting her thoughts, to escort Sienna out to the stage.

She might be dressed like a coed, but she needed to channel all the strength she could from the T-shirt. She’d played the role of Superwoman for so long, being strong for herself because she had no one, yet now she could barely dredge up any strength.

Unbreakable, fearless, tough. Sienna had been all of those. And one dumb idiot from New Jersey, of all places, wasn’t going to take that away from her. Neither was she going to be afraid of Carson and what he might expect from her this week.

She had superpowers.

Sienna opened tonight’s act flat on her back onstage. When the lights went up, she rolled over, propped up on her elbows like a schoolgirl, and swung her feet back and forth. The crowd was already clapping and screaming, and she’d done nothing. She pushed up to her feet and swung up on the pole, turning upside down and giving the audience a spectacular view of her behind.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carson. He was holding a lowball glass with amber liquid, probably scotch, and he wasn’t taking his eyes off her. His were heated, very heated, pooling with desire as she turned right side up and slid to the floor.

She lifted the Superwoman tee over her head to reveal a skimpier-than-skimpy red lace bra. She was teasing him, she knew it, but couldn’t help it. His slight smile and dimple had come out to play, and she wanted to make them stay.

This she could do. Twirling and taunting from her stage, her pole, that she could do. Being intimate one-on-one was a whole different story.

The song was an pulsing alternative number. Sienna swayed from side to side to the drumbeat, her perfectly rounded butt on display with her thong creeping up between the cheeks, making the music an afterthought.

To end the number, Sienna went back up the pole and flipped out her hair while she held herself up with her legs twisted around the cylinder. Then she dismounted and blew kisses as she strutted offstage, walking straight into Asher.

“He wants to come back,” Asher said without any further explanation. She knew who he meant. She’d been thinking about him all night, a piece of her hoping he came earlier in the evening before she went out, and the other half wishing he didn’t come back at all.

“Okay.”

“Sienna, honey, I love seeing you get a life, but are you sure? I never thought you’d like someone from the club, a customer. Don’t get me wrong, doll, I’m thrilled and he seems decent, but—”

“I’m good, Ash. It’s just an innocent crush. All I want is a little fun, nothing more. I do love you for caring. What would I do without you?” She placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb back and forth, showing what she couldn’t express.

Asher’s eyes hardened, then he said, “I’m going to be in my office if you need me. I’ll have Petey walk the guy back.” Then he walked away.

What’s bugging him?

Sipping a bottle of water in her dressing room, Sienna answered the door as soon as there was a light knock. No need to ask who was there; she already knew. She could feel the sexual current when he was coming down the hall.

Sienna was wearing yoga pants and a tiny lilac camisole when Carson arrived. He didn’t say one word, he simply hooked one finger into the flimsy strap of the cami and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a soft kiss, gentle and closed mouth, but spectacular nonetheless. It spoke volumes. With each brush of his lips, she realized how much he missed her, felt somewhere deep that he couldn’t wait to get back to her, and that he was so happy to be exactly where he was.

She had no clue how she deduced all this from a kiss, but she did. It was like her feminine senses were coming to full bloom with Carson.

He released Sienna’s mouth before she was ready. A small sigh escaped from her before she could get herself in check.

Obviously, I have no idea how to play hard to get.

So she simply said, “Hello.”

“Hi. I was hoping to see more of the Superwoman tee. You’re one hot superhero.”

Sienna smiled gently, the tenderness making its way to the slight creases at the corner of her eyes, and tried to quickly gather her thoughts. “This is truly me, comfy.”

Carson grinned down at her. “I think that’s what I like the most. You’re so different from the role you play onstage. Of course, like I told you last week, seeing you up there was the original attraction, but knowing you offstage is so much better. And the more I know, the more I want to learn.” He gathered her in his arms and dragged her toward him, filling the gap that had unfortunately opened between them, kissing her one more time before he moved comfortably around her personal dressing room.

The air whooshed from Sienna’s lungs. How was she ever going to control her feelings if Carson kept saying stuff like that to her? She knew she was blushing, and had no idea how to reply, so she didn’t. She stumbled over to her vanity and sat on the edge of the stool, observing the man roaming her space.

Carson made himself comfortable in her dressing room. He walked over to the little fridge that had been replenished and mixed Sienna a club soda and cranberry.

He remembers?

“Do you have much longer here tonight?” he asked after finding a spot for himself on the chaise. This time he lay fully back with his head on one end and extended his feet toward the other. He looked so adorable stretched out on the feminine piece of furniture. He also looked to be something else. Stretched out along the plum-colored velour, he appeared to be every bit as durable and strong as he was, and while Sienna didn’t fear for her body physically, her heart was a whole different matter.

Shoving any worries about her heart to the back of her mind, she answered, “I’m going to visit a little out on the floor before the weekend starts tomorrow. I promised some of the girls I would show my face. Then I’ll be done for the night.”

“I forgot you make rounds. I should go back out and grab a table and keep my eyes on you, make sure you don’t escape with anyone else. I was hoping to be your ride home tonight. I don’t want to lose that privilege.”

Sienna chuckled. As if she went home with anyone else, other than the one time she went with Carson. “You’re silly. You have to know by now I’m not looking for a ride home. I’m not even sure if I’m going to go with you. I have a routine, you know,” she said with a smile, teasing him, pleased that she was finally getting the hang of flirting.

Carson stood as she said this and pulled her in close. With one hand tight around her waist and the other threading through her hair, he stared straight into her eyes and spoke with authority. “I’m definitely driving you home tonight.”

That was all he said before laying a kiss on her. A long one. He pushed his tongue inside and made love to her mouth, plunging deep, feeling her from the inside out, and drawing her tongue out to play.

Sienna couldn’t help but return the favor, taking the chance to slip her much more delicate tongue into his mouth, exploring, encouraging, and wanting all he could give her.

I am so letting him take me home.

Carson was the first to pull away from the kiss, framing her face with his big, sturdy hands. “So, let’s get the show on the road. I’m heading out for a cocktail while you work your magic out in the club, but save something special for me.”

She walked him toward the door, speaking quietly, not facing him as she did. “I have to change my clothes, and I need to be out there for about forty-five minutes. Do you mind having your drink at the back bar? I don’t think I’ll be able to focus with you front and center,” she said while blushing once again. A stripper who constantly blushed…that was crazy.

Carson didn’t respond right away. Sienna worried he wasn’t going to sit in the back, and she really had no idea how she would entertain patrons with him in the same vicinity, let alone within eyesight. Then he pulled her around to face him, scanned her face, and said, “If that’s what you want, you got it. Should I pick you up out back in an hour?”

“Great. I’ll have Mike or Petey walk me out.”

Simple.

S
HE WAS
so goddamn striking as she moved among the tables, captivating the crowd, that Carson was having a hard time staying in his seat. Part of him, rather all of him, wanted to go complete caveman, pick Sienna up, carry her out, and keep her away from every other man in the room.

Keep her for what?

That was the one thing stopping him. He had never wanted to keep anybody around, let alone a woman. A woman who lived several thousand miles away from where he called home. A woman who commanded the attention of every man who crossed her path, who obviously drove her boss crazy, and had every bouncer in love with her. This was the woman he wanted to “keep.”

He swirled his scotch in his glass and stared at the brown liquid swishing around the tumbler.

You couldn’t hold on to a woman like that even if you wanted to. He didn’t really know, but he assumed from what he heard about the type. Yet this woman, Sienna, didn’t exactly fit the mold.

She seemed genuinely intrigued by him, almost scared of him. Scared of falling for him and liking him more than just the average Joe; she made him feel like she didn’t care about the other million men wanting to keep her.

How could she spark sexual thoughts like she did night in and night out, and seem so hesitant when it came to intimacy? Christ, she was a mystery, a paradox, and one he wanted even more so because of it. He wanted to crack the code. Only him. He wanted to be the only one to do it.

He just needed to make sure the wanting eventually went away, because he wasn’t making a permanent thing with anyone.

He knocked back the rest of his drink, letting the burn take his attention for a brief moment.

Damn, that fucking jerk over in the corner. The dude was fucking running his eyes up and down what Carson wanted all for himself.

S
IENNA WORKED
the floor with her usual healthy dose of pure innocence and sexual tension that evening. It was her calling card. The glossy
Inside Vegas
magazine recently wrote that she had: