“Fuck,” I say again, trying to ignore the erection straining against my jeans. Pain and pleasure—I’ve never had one without the other.
“Cass—”
“Just fucking do it,” he grates.
My thumb skims over a puckered burn mark. Then another. Another.
“There.” He sounds as breathless as I feel. “Right there.”
“Christ.”
My lungs fill with powdered brimstone as I press the tip of the cigarette into his flesh.
He stiffens, letting out a short, soft gasp. Then he shoves me so hard I fall back and land on my ass. I’m anticipating the boot heading for my stomach, but that just makes the impact ten times worse.
My breath rushes out in a pained grunt I can’t possibly keep quiet. I roll onto my side, curling up as he kicks me again. Then he’s gone, orange light blooming against the back of my eyelids before the room goes dark again.
I open my fingers and let the crumpled cigarette fall out. Then I bring my hand close and lick off the streak of ash smeared over my palm.
The almost constant ache in my wrists and ankles fades away as I lie there listening to Apollo tapping out a beat for Trinity as she dances for Reuben.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sounds like the leaking pipe in the back of the basement, doesn’t it, Mason?
The pain makes it easier to push away the voice.
And that’s always been the case, even back then.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Chapter Nine
Trinity
It has to be the weed. Or the booze.Something’sdoing weird, weird shit to my brain. That bit in a Disney movie where a magical light zooms around the heroine and lifts her up? That’s me right now. It feels like I’m suspended inches from the floor, a glittering aura whirling around me.
In my wildest dreams I would never have imagined anything could feel this good. This…right.
Reuben’s got one hand around the back of my neck, the other at the small of my back. Using his hands and body, he guides me.
Moments later, faint noises in the background clamor for my attention but they sound wrong and violent so I push them out of my mind.
This…this is the complete opposite.
“See?” Reuben murmurs into my ear. “And you thought you couldn’t do it.”
I wasn’t about to tell him I’d danced before. Alot. My mirror had been my only audience, and my worst critic. For all I know, I probably looked a right idiot back then as I swayed to my own quiet humming.
I’d really hoped to use my feminine wiles to strike a deal with these men, but I guess I still have a lot to learn about the art of seduction.
Also, dancing for an actual audience is much harder than watching yourself in a mirror. So much so, I hadn’t even known where to start.
Reuben saved me.