Page 40 of Trigger Happy Ending

“Didn’t I tell you? I quit.”

“Oh,” Carson says, swirling the chopsticks around the remains of his meal, thankfully totally unfazed. “Good for you.”

Carson couldn’t give a shit, I realize. My heart rate settles, crisis averted.

“Stay for a drink?”

I check my watch. Ten pm. I need to play the part. What would Lukas do? He would stay. There’s no way he’d pass up a few drinks with a business contact he’s meeting for the first time. “Sure.”

Carson places his empty take-out box down onto the table and removes his phone from his pocket. “What do you want to drink?”

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke.”

“Right.” Carson taps away on his phone. “Ordered. So, Lukas. Do you know why my clubs are the best?”

“Good service?”

Carson grins so wide his eyes crinkle. “Something like that.”

He claps his hands together twice. On command, the lights dim, and a slow, pulsing, typical strip club beat begins to emanate from the speakers. In front of us, the small stage glows to life. Oh, fuck.

Jesus, this is the last thing I want right now.

Raine will hang shit on me for days if she finds out I enjoyed a lap dance.

“Enjoy the show.”

A silhouette appears behind the stage. Nothing but a shadow at first, the woman’s hips sway, with one hand trailing down her body before the other arcs above her head.

She steps forward into the light, and my body stiffens when I realize who it is.

Raine.

She wears a mask. Not just any mask, but a lattice of glittering crystals clinging to her face like little spun stars. The same shimmering web wraps her body, covering only what’s necessary. Her hair, a blonde wig, falls loose down her back. Each step makes the crystals ripple like water. She doesn’t look real. She looks …

My mind evaporates, thoughts turn to mist.

Of course she’d have the balls to wear shimmering barbed wire.

Desire coils low in my gut, followed by something darker, more primal. I clench my jaw so tightly, I nearly chip a tooth with the pressure. I’ve spent my life in conflict, harsh environments, and bloody warzones, taking what I wanted when the moment presented itself. Food, weapons, territory, lives. I was trained to believe that if you see something you want? You claim it by whatever means necessary.

And right now, all I want is her off that fucking stage and under me, breathless and begging. Every male cell in my body screams as she drops into a split with perfect form, those little crystals shimmering with the sudden drop.

I bite my lower lip involuntarily as Carson whistles at the erotic move.

Her back arches as she rises, and I map her curves, deciding how I’d take her, how I’d hold her fucking incredible body. She slides forward on her knees until she’s right at the edge. She’s close enough for me to see the dark fire in her piercing green eyes. I’m so fucking turned on I have to remind myself to breathe, to remain unbothered.

This is all an act.

She’s undercover. I’m undercover. None of this is real, I remind myself.

But, fuck, why does it feel like it is?

The lights cut out as she stands and slinks towards the back of the room, disappearing behind a door. The music drops low enough I hear Carson chuckle about how she’s a “new crowd favorite.”

“Lukas?” Carson interrupts. “What did you think?”

What did I think?