and her cheering section were shouting, encouraging him to move on. Dragging his fingers down, over her collarbone and stopping at the glimpse of cleavage his position afforded, he sent her a searching look.
She shrugged, the movement jerky. “You’ve got to make a living.”
Guilt speared through him, shame hot on its heels. This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a user, a seducer for personal purpose or private payout. His fingers hovered over her chest.
“Have mercy on me,” she said, blinking up at him with exaggeratedly wide eyes. “Finish your search-and-recover mission so I can go stick my head in the freezer.”
“Hot?”
She rolled her shoulders. “I keep telling myself this is your job, but there’s still the matter of your fingers on my skin, you know?”
He squashed the urge to stroke her hair. She was right. This, all of this, was about making a living—so why did it feel different? “True enough.” Finger-walking his way into her cleavage, he pulled out a twenty. He doubted she’d gotten into the act and tucked the money away herself, particularly between her breasts. “Whom do I thank for their generosity?”
As if she’d read his mind, she winced. “Gwen’s payback for me losing the key.”
He laughed. “I like Gwen.”
She scowled up at him, her heart clearly not in it. “I wasn’t supposed to be part of the show.”
“Roll with it, baby. It’s all in good fun.” He gently chucked her under the chin before facing the room, needing a little distance. “Unless you ladies are more dirty-minded than I am, and I seriously doubt that, I’ve found all the prizes. I’d trade a kiss for a bottle of water.”
Several women scrambled for the wet bar.
“Just one,” he called after them. On a deep breath, he faced Cass and held up the key. “You were a great sport.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
Heat burned his cheeks, and he was both embarrassed and charmed by his reaction. The shy woman from the group was the first to make it back to him with a bottle of water, and he accepted it, this time brushing a soft kiss over her lips. “Thanks, beautiful.”
A strange expression passed over Cass’s face, one that said Eric had just done something profound. Hell if he knew what it was beyond kindness. Then Cass was gone, making excuses about checking on food and drinks, ensuring guest comfort and anything else she could toss out in a rush.
He watched her move through the crowd, absently rubbing her cuff-free wrist. Gwen bounded over to her and the two exchanged a few words and a quick hug before the bride became the center of attention once again. Gwen shot him bright-eyed looks when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, and those looks unnerved him. Clearly, Gwen was up to something. For all that the woman feigned innocence, he’d bet the entire evening’s take she had a devious streak.
Grabbing a pair of Elmo sleep pants from his briefcase, he slipped into them and padded around the room, flirting, picking up empty glasses and refilling others.
“You don’t have to do that.”
He glanced over his shoulder to find Cass closing in on him. “What? Pick up?”
“That, and serve.”
“Habit.” He shrugged. “I’ve got another half an hour before my time’s up. I can dance if you’d prefer.” And didn’t that offer have to claw its way out of his chest? He wanted her to see him as more than a stripper, wanted to tell her he was busting his ass to be more than this, but the words wouldn’t come.
She shrugged. “It’s cool. Just realize I don’t expect you to do anything like that.”
“You hired me.”
The discomfort on her face made him want to apologize. In fact, he started to, but she interrupted. “You’re right. I just feel a little awkward treating you like...” She stared at her feet as she chewed on her bottom lip.
“Like a side of delectable beef?”
She huffed out a breath. “I suppose.”
The familiar white lie slipped out before he could stop himself. “I’m okay with this, Cass. If I wasn’t, I couldn’t do what I do.”
Gwen bounded up, beer in hand. “I want to go to Cinderblock and dance.” She glanced between them and smiled. “They’re open until two, so we’ve got a couple of hours to get our groove on.”
“Sure,” Cass answered absently, shifting her attention to Gwen. “We can wrap up here and be at the club in under thirty.”
The bride shifted innocent eyes on him. “Want to come, Dalton?”
He opened his mouth to politely decline.
Gwen interrupted. “Don’t say no. Please?”
“Cass?” Asking her seemed right, because if he went, he’d be off the clock and on his own, and this time he was going to dance with her, not for her. He would touch her body. And chances were good he’d stop thinking altogether and simply let things go where they would. “Would you be comfortable with me tagging along?”
She looked at him, those blue eyes nearly bottomless. “I’d love to have you...” Her breath caught and her eyes widened. “Join us! I’d love to have you join us.”
The strange connection he’d felt earlier sparked, an electric live wire running between them. He didn’t, couldn’t, drag his eyes away when he answered. “Give me an extra half hour to run home and grab some decent clubbing clothes. They’re not a tie-required kind of place, but I’m pretty sure pants aren’t optional.”
Cass’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, yet nothing came out.
Gwen slipped an arm around her waist and addressed Eric. “See you there.”
And that, as the saying went, was that.
* * *
CASS MOVED ON AUTOPILOT as she rounded up the large party, gave them the address for the club and made sure everyone with keys was sober. As the last of the women left the apartment, Cass raced to her closet, grabbed her favorite little black dress and slipped it on. She swiped on some extra mascara and dabbed on perfume. Then she pulled out the man-killing red lipstick. It was her favorite accessory when she wanted to feel powerful, but she rarely wore it. More often than not it suited her just fine to be part of the scenery rather than the focal point. Not that she was a wallflower. Far from it. She just got so tired of men passing judgment based on her appearance and totally discounting her brain. Lipstick poised at her lips, she hesitated.
“What are you doing?” she asked her reflection. “Nothing can happen between you. You know it. What he is could ruin you.”
“You coming, Cass?” Gwen stepped into the master bathroom. “Oh, hey. The red lipstick. My Spidey Sense told me you were into Dalton.”
“I
