Page 29 of Deadly Sins

A woman who was nothing like me.

Or…could it be possible that he was on to me?

If he thought I was Mia, there was no way he would want me to get naked and entertain a bunch of men.

A rolling heat loomed in my belly—I couldn’t read him at all. “I have heard of the Navy SEALs. You kill people, it is true? You are dangerous man.” My voice felt rushed, and it should. I was beginning to feel nauseous and wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there so I could think.

He laughed, his eyes drilling into me like laser beams directed at my soul. “We protect America. We save people by whatever means necessary.” He formed his hands into a steeple, and I could see the muscles on his arms tighten. “I’m not dangerous to you. But I’m not going to get involved with a stripper and have other men checking out my girl. I don’t want you taking off your clothes for anyone. Only me. So that’s the offer. You quit stripping, and I can help you find another job, or you can forget you ever met me. What’s it gonna be?”

My stomach rumbled more by the goddamned second, maybe from the meat or maybe from my nerves. That, and I was lying to Grant and felt like I was a second from getting caught. He didn’t deserve this. I hadn’t thought this whole asinine plan out fully. Would he fall for another girl who would leave him, who would lie to him? I couldn’t do that to him again.

I wanted to scream at him, hit him upside the head for wanting to get involved with a fucking stripper he’d just met, but I couldn’t reveal myself yet.

I refused to lose focus; allow the guilt to make me become slothful in my pursuit. I was having a leisurely breakfast, and was nursing my coffee, while my brother remained incarcerated.

“No. I will not quit job if I do not get the new one. If you want to forget me, you do it—forget.”

His eyebrow rose as he gave me a glassy stare.

Checkmate.

He paused, that mind of his clearly plotting. “Fine. There’s this bar in Ocean Beach. I know the owner. I can get you a job as a bartender. You’re over twenty-one, right? As long as you’re legal to work in this country, I can get you hired.”

The Pickled Frog? Kyle’s bar? Hell, yes! I wanted to break out in song to celebrate, but I refused to count my chickens before they hatched—or as Roma used to say, “Don’t divide the pelt of the bear not yet killed.”

I took a long sip of coffee, steadying my breath. I needed a moment to sit and reflect. I had already achieved my goals for working at Panthers: I’d met Grant as Ksenya. The former strippers that worked with Tiffany had vanished. Autumn, the girl I’d met last night at the party, had told me that she used to work at Panthers, but had since started working at an upscale club called Diamond downtown. She was with Grant the night of the murder. She’d even given me her number and told me she thought I’d get hired. I needed to investigate Diamond.

My other goal for working at Panthers was to gain access to the SEALs. And I had done that; I was sitting in Grant’s place after spending the night. But Grant could cut me out at any second. No way was I going to quit my job unless I had another access point to the SEALs.

Time to switch strategies. “Very well. I will go. If I get job, then I do quit Panthers.”

“Deal.” He got up and knelt beside me, moving his hand up my thigh. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

Oh, God.Not physical contact. I was barely hanging on by a thread as it was. If Grant started touching me, I would surely blow this whole plan.

His eyes ran the length of my body slowly before they settled on my mouth. I fought every instinct in my body to stay still. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how good it felt to have your mouth on my cock,” he breathed, running his fingers over my lips.

Before I could react, he threw me over his back and carried me into the bedroom.

After I’d given him head last night, I’d squelched any opportunity for him to go further, even though I had wanted to. I was dying to get truly intimate with him, but it was too risky.

Once he’d positioned me on the bed, he continued running his hands all over my body, exploring me. He started to undress me slowly, kissing all my skin that was revealed. He spent a lot of time at my breasts, until it was almost torture. I’d been worried that my nipples would lose sensation with the implants—thank God that wasn’t the case.

I closed my eyes and tried to fight the battling emotions inside of me. His touch felt like coming home, and I wanted to bask in the sensations that I had gone too long without. At the same time, I wanted to rip his hands away from me and curl up into a ball because I didn’t deserve it.

He pulled my panties down with his free hand, slipping his fingers inside of me. His body pressed against mine, his lips hovering over my own.

I savored this moment. Last night, I hadn’t allowed him to kiss me deeply, afraid he would find my mouth too familiar. All in order to dissuade him from thinking I was Mia.

But this time, this kiss, I didn’t think—not about how to kiss him back, not about how to position my mouth, not about how to use my tongue. This time, I allowed myself to feel and lose myself in the moment. I let my love for him guide my movements, my connection with him guide my heart.

I couldn’t get enough of his lips, his stubble grazing my chin. And for those few sweet minutes, there was no Joaquín, there was no Ksenya. Just Grant and Mia, back together again.

But the battle waged through my mind once again as his kisses made their way down my body. My brain wanted to slap him; my core ached, imagining him fucking me senseless. Oh, this man made me so mad yet so turned on at the same time.

A rush of pleasure swept over me, and I knew if I didn’t escape from him, I’d be unable to resist in another minute.

I caught my breath, and playfully pushed his hand away, wiggled out of the bed, separating myself from him. My breathing was labored; my skin was flushed. There was no way to hide how impossibly turned-on he had made me. “We can play later. If you want me to quit, I need to go to a new job.”