Electrified (8 page)

Maybe I should get a dog?

A
FTER FINISHING
his nightcap and cigar, Carson exchanged a few good-natured jokes with Victor and closed out his tab. Slot machines clanged loudly all around him, and a chorus of excited shouts went up at a nearby roulette table. He shook his head and bit back a smile, darkly amused that someone’s luck was obviously better than his.

Fueled by the oxygen being pumped into the casino, his long legs ate up the luxurious carpet covering the casino floor as he approached the elevator, intent on a good night’s sleep. By himself. But all his good intentions were derailed when he heard someone call his name from across the elevator lobby.

“Carson! Carson Graham!” a woman called out as she walked toward him. “Wow, look at you, still as striking as ever. I’m not one bit surprised to find you walking around one of the nicest hotels in Sin City.”

Has she always been this loud?

He allowed himself a mental sigh, then arranged his features into a welcoming expression. “Lucinda Field. Wow, right back at you,” he said carefully as he was flooded with a mixture of emotions. “I haven’t seen you in over a decade, and here we are, running into each other in Vegas.”

A decade? Actually, it had been slightly longer than that since he’d last seen Lucinda. Since college, in fact. They’d had the same major, which meant they attended many of the same classes together. And as luck would have it, were frequently paired together as study partners or part of the same project group.

Carson knew she’d always liked him more than a friend, but he never went beyond friendship with her. Mostly because he was sure she would want more, and he wasn’t that type of guy, especially way back then. With his abandonment issues at their absolute worst, Carson hopped from bed to bed throughout college. Like now, he never made promises. Although, he might have been a tad worse back then.

He was always up front about his preference for a lack of strings in his relationships. He knew his good looks, charm, and penchant for the good life helped in this department. Without any family keeping him tied down and no real visions of a white picket fence in his future, he lived life fully during college. Nice dinners, expensive beer, and fast motorcycles were his calling card.

Lucinda always pushed him to let her take a taste of the wild life with him, but he never bit. She was a good girl from a nice family. Although they both graduated with double majors in history and political science, Lucinda was smart and went to law school, while he was recruited by the FBI.

Unlike him, Carson was certain Lucinda dreamed of two kids, a dog, and the same white picket fence that gave him nightmares. He never wanted to lead her on, so he didn’t. Perhaps he was a bit of a man-whore back then, but one with a heart.

Am I still a man-whore?

Running into Lucinda in Las Vegas all these years later, seeing her reminded Carson he hadn’t changed much. When he thought about it, he was still driving fast bikes and cars, indulging in good food, liquor, and women, with no intention of settling down. And he suddenly wondered whether that was a good thing.

Carson reluctantly agreed to Lucinda’s invitation to grab a drink together, and took her gently by the elbow to lead her back to the bar he’d just left. They had no sooner received their drinks than she was invading his personal space, much bolder than she had been in college.

“I’m in town for a conference, and since I have nothing holding me down at home, I thought I’d have just a touch of fun.” She winked and licked her lips.

She leaned into Carson, letting him know without a doubt that he was currently the brand of trouble she was looking for. He glanced up to see Victor smirking at them from behind the bar, confirming what he already knew, mainly that he was horny and lonely. Which was a very bad combination.

He answered, “Is that so?” Despite knowing it was the wrong choice, he winked back. It was halfhearted at best, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Definitely,” Lucinda purred. “I deserve it. I work hard, do it all on my own with no one having my back, and I’m a woman with many interests. Why not let loose?”

Lucinda was giving all the buying signs, but he wasn’t in the market. She droned on, not stopping to notice that Carson wasn’t even listening.

It was his own damn fault he was so desperate for a female’s attention or touch. He was the one tied in knots over a stripper—a beautiful woman with supple curves, all the right moves, and bluer-than-blue eyes so deep they revealed she was actually much more than who she appeared to be onstage.

A woman who was completely inaccessible to him and untouchable to everyone. Yet he was so hung up on her, he was about to head up to his hotel room by his lonesome without any intention of trying to find another woman or even take care of himself.

Carson shook his head, annoyed at himself and confused by his current disinterest in pursuing anything female. He knew it bore some type of significance. A meaning, perhaps, that he shouldn’t ignore.

If he had taken a longer drive before heading back to the hotel, maybe he wouldn’t have run into Lucinda. Unfortunately, he didn’t let the speed of his car take him away longer, and with tension still rippling through his body, he couldn’t help but react a little when Lucinda ran her hand over his chest. She was no longer a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, innocent coed. She was a grown woman now, and if she still had an itch when it came to him, perhaps he should scratch it.

At least, that was what he was thinking when he looked down and saw her red nails smoothing down the front of his white dress shirt. He imagined he could take her upstairs and have his way with her any way he pleased. While she was chatting his head off in the bar, he was envisioning a long night of tasting her, pushing inside her heat, and no telling what else.

His dick was saying yes, and his head was nodding in agreement.

Carson had nearly convinced himself to take her straight up to his room when Sienna Flower popped back in his mind. Her legs wrapped around the pole. Those long limbs, firm and toned, yet feminine. He couldn’t think about anything other than running his tongue up and down the length of her smooth skin.

Her body was soft in all the right places, especially her eyes. There was an understanding and a softness about them, as though she deeply cared about the crowd watching her dance. Sienna made each and every person in the audience feel special and unique. It was such a contradiction to what she did for a living, but it made Sienna Flower who she was. A stripper with the most trusting eyes he’d ever seen, making him wonder what she would be like in person, one-on-one.

With his head filled with floating images of Sienna dancing and batting her long lashes over her seductive blue eyes, Carson could no longer even stomach the thought of taking Lucinda upstairs.

Not because she wasn’t good-looking. Lucinda had matured into a beautiful woman, but she was so hard and direct, practically begging him to fuck her, that he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

When he finally reached his breaking point, he said, “Lucinda, it was so great seeing you, catching up and all, but I’m afraid I’m not very good company. I’m flat-out exhausted from all the travel I’ve been doing, and I have to catch some shut-eye.”

She pouted like a schoolgirl.

From the corner of his eye, Carson could see Victor containing his laugh by covering his mouth with his hand, then pretending to cough.

“Well, let’s at least exchange numbers,” she suggested coyly. “Maybe we’ll cross paths again?”

The woman just won’t take no for an answer. Unbelievable.

“You know what?” He shook his head, then stared straight into her eyes. “It’s not going to work. I’m married to my job these days.” He picked up his drink and downed it, signaled to Victor for the bill, and gave Lucinda an apologetic half smile.

Lucinda stood up, her shoulders straight and rigid, but the quaver in her voice betrayed her. “I see. Well, it was nice to catch up with you, Carson. Safe travels.” She then swept past him regally, holding her head high as she walked quickly away.

Watching her leave, he mumbled under his breath, “Hope you find your happiness.”

Exhausted from their exchange, Carson ended up going to his room all by himself as he’d originally planned, then proceeded to toss and turn in his hotel room’s king-sized bed.

He couldn’t get settled over the fact he had turned down a woman who was ready, willing, and able, all because she seemed too direct, available, and loose. He hadn’t been one bit attracted to the woman throwing herself at him.

Which was somewhat ironic considering the fact that he was fixated on a stripper. Didn’t women who shed their clothes for a crowd say
Please fuck me
in not so many words?

Not Sienna. No, she was a different story altogether, and he was going to uncover it and take a big bite. Maybe even two or three bites, but that was it.

He wouldn’t bite off more than he could chew. Just enough to satiate his appetite.

On that note, it wasn’t until morning Carson felt himself begin to relax. Just before he thought he was about to drop off to sleep, he decided he would get in a long workout tomorrow—although technically it was already today—before he headed back to the Tunnel that night.

It was a good plan in theory. Unfortunately, Sienna insinuated herself in his thoughts once again, and sleep still eluded him.

Friday night, after Sienna’s first performance

B
ACK IN
her dressing room after her performance, Sienna sat down at her vanity while sipping from a bottled water, thinking of
him
. She picked up a towel, and was running it over her damp body when she heard a commotion outside her dressing room. When she peeked outside her door, she found Big Mike arguing with their newest bouncer, Billy, a young guy who was working on his criminology degree at University of Nevada, Las Vegas.

“I’m sorry, man,” Billy was saying. “That guy only asked me to bring this message back to Sienna. I looked at it, and it wasn’t anything rude, so I agreed. I know, it was stupid.” The guy stood at the ready, obviously worried that Big Mike was going to pound him. And from the look on Mike’s face, he wasn’t far off in that estimation.

Mike’s huge fists were hooked on his hips, his eyes narrowed at Billy as he said sternly, “Dude, I get it, but nothing gets delivered to Sienna, just like no one gets back here either. This is private space, and Sienna is not in the habit of taking names and numbers.” He leaned into Billy’s face and dropped his voice lower in warning. “Do
not
let this happen again.”

Worried that the two of them were about to go to blows, Sienna stepped outside her dressing room door and interjected, “Uh, guys, I’m standing right here. What’s going on, Mike?”

Billy lowered his head in shame. “Sorry, Ms. Flower, but some guy gave me this slip of paper for you with his number on it. He only asked if you wanted to go for coffee and to give you his number. I thought it might be okay to bring it back, but I made a mistake. I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, Billy,” Sienna said carefully, not wanting for Billy to get into trouble on her account. “Yes, Mike is right. I don’t normally take messages or numbers, but no one got hurt or bothered, so no worries. Since you’re already back here, let me take that.” She brought her hand up to take the slip of paper, then crumbled it in a ball, but held it tight in her palm. “By the way, what did the man look like?”

Mike swung his surprised gaze on her as she accepted the piece of paper, which was about as unusual as her walking the floor on a Friday night. For the second time that evening, Sienna was breaking her own personal code, and he knew it.

Great
. Not only were Asher’s hackles up, but now Mike’s were, too.

Billy didn’t answer, he just looked to Mike to see what he should do after the dressing-down he’d just received for bringing the note backstage.

Mike ignored him, and with curious eyes glaring down at her, answered for Billy. “I saw him. It was the man at the table you stopped by earlier.”