Page 6 of Bullet

Bristol rested one hand on Rory’s shoulder as she took the glass with the other. She tipped her head back and drank the flute until the glass was empty. Then she handed Rory the glass, stepped onto the small stage to the left, tapped the controls to the music, and wrapped herself around the pole.

“Are you going to dance, beautiful?” Devon held his hand out to me and escorted me to the platform with Bristol.

A tremble started in my belly and migrated into my extremities. I didn’t recognize the two men in suits, but just being in their presence was enough to fire fear through me.

But it was the tattooed man in black denim and a tight T-shirt beneath an unzipped leather jacket that had my instinct to flee on hyper-alert.

Bristol smiled, but her eyes questioned if I was okay. I wasn’t. I was terrified. For almost four months, I’d successfully avoided anyone who could remotelyconnect me to Emerson Barras. And now, I was two feet away from someone who could expose my cover.

He could kill me now, and Emerson would reward him for it.

I tried to swallow my fear, but my throat was too tight, and adrenaline ran too hot. Heat burned behind my eyes.

“Focus on me.”

My gaze darted from Bristol to the men. She grabbed the tails of my shirt and slipped the knot free.

“Do you want a drink?” Rory asked, filling the glasses again.

I couldn’t speak.

“Enjoy the show, gentlemen.” Bristol curved her fingers around the back of my neck, pulled me close, and kissed me. Her soft lips pressed against mine, but her fingers were firm on my hips.

I shuddered as her tongue slipped into my mouth. I kissed her back, holding onto her like an anchor in my sea of insecurity.

One of the guys whistled. This was a show. I’d kissed her before on stage, but this was for me, a moment to get my shit together, to inhale confidence and exhale my anxiety.

Bristol rolled her hips into mine, keeping tempo with the music. She loosened her hold on me in small increments. First, her grip on my hip flattened into a smooth caress, her kiss went from tongue to just a meshing of lips, and she put just a pinch of space between us.

“You’re okay,” she whispered against my lips. “Stay with me.”

Her hand stayed on my hip, and her breath mingled with mine. I focused on her, the music, and getting through the next hour.

I hesitantly smiled, but my guess was that I wasn’t convincing because she unbuttoned my top.

“Just dance,” she said. “Just like when we practiced.” Bristol had helped me go from a dancer trained in ballet, lyrical, acro, and contemporary, to a dancer who combined them all into a seductive striptease.

I could do this. Ihadto do this. I couldn’t give Mars a reason to remember my face. I was just a dancer.

With slow, shallow breaths, I calmed the anxiety firing through me. “I’m okay. Is Jack at the door?”

She barely shook her head. “We’re good. Remember, we work for them now. Show them why you’re worth a lot more than Trav was paying you.”

I barely nodded, tried to get out of my head, and focused on my dancing.

Swishing my hair, I hid behind the fall of my wig. Loosening up, feeling the music, I moved my body. I spun away from Bristol and performed. With a seductive roll of my abdomen and with trembling fingers, I finished unbuttoning my shirt. Maybe if they focused on my body, they’d avoid looking too closely at my face.

Bristol smiled, stepped off the stage, and climbed onto Rory. She tilted her head back, and he poured champagne over her tits, bent his head, and sucked on her nipple.

I shimmied the shirt from my shoulders and used it as a prop in my dance. I dropped to a squat, bent over, and exposed the G-string beneath my skirt.

Bristol laughed, keeping the two businessmen entertained. The guy with the tattoos rubbed along his thigh, and the heel of his palm pressed against the hard ridge of his erection behind the fly of his jeans.

His gaze held me hostage. I couldn’t breathe. He stood, and I stopped dancing. Without looking behind me, I took a step back. Then another. He stalked closer. My back pressed against the mirror.

He was so close. Ice flowed through me and a chill skated over my flesh, but his breath was warm on my neck as he leaned into me.

“You look familiar to me.” His hand rested next to my head. The scent of cigarettes and danger clung to him. I tried to swallow past the fear choking me.

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