Electrified (2 page)

He was really something special. Sienna saw men all day, every day, not to mention each night, and not one compared to the man staring at her from across the cocktail table. She might not have feared his type from high above on the stage, but with him right in front of her eyes, inches away, she was petrified.

Not of the man, but of the way he made her feel.

“That’s me,” she finally stuttered in response. In an effort to save face, she said, “I just snuck out to see my friends in their new act,” then nodded her head unnecessarily to indicate the stage.

“They are very good,” he agreed, then narrowed his eyes slightly and cocked his head. “But not as talented as you, or as beautiful.” A tiny dimple formed when the corners of his lips tilted up slightly, and there it was…his smile. Not a full one, but the hint of what it could be like if expressed fully. It would be glorious, beyond glorious.

Seeing the large, strong man flash a small smile at her made Sienna shudder. It was what she’d been waiting for since the night before, or maybe even weeks.

Suddenly she wished she could be the one to put an even bigger smile on his face. It would be decadent, and she knew if she experienced that, she would be like an addict, wanting more.

The thought was too much for Sienna to take, and she started to move away. She’d never felt an intense attraction like she was experiencing now, and she might have wanted to explore it more, but she couldn’t afford to allow herself that luxury.

“I’m up next,” she said with a tinge of regret. “I have to go.”

His eyes darkened, the brown turning nearly black. “That’s what I’m waiting for. You, Sienna Flower.”

Against her will, she leaned forward slightly, forgetting for a moment that she was out on the floor on a Friday. This beautiful man drew her in, making her want to break every rule she’d made for herself.

But reality came slamming back along with the loud music, the crowd that surrounded them, and the knowledge that this was a really, really bad idea.

Her heart pounding, she said simply, “Enjoy the show,” then she waved and turned to slip away.

“Wait,” he called out, and against her better judgment, she stopped and turned back. “I know you really never do this, but would you join me for a drink later?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Okay, it didn’t hurt to ask,” he said, looking slightly disappointed.

She hated seeing his frown. Sienna wanted that little smile and dimple back from him.

“I can’t because I perform a second time tonight, and I usually stay backstage between acts,” she explained, not wanting him to feel bad.

Forget performing twice, I don’t have drinks one-on-one with customers. Do I?

“Perhaps another time, then?”

Sienna couldn’t even think straight. Normally she was all about protecting herself, staying safe, and not getting close to anyone, but she found herself saying, “Maybe. I don’t really know, not on a weekend.”

Shocked at what she’d just said, she muttered, “I have to go,” then turned and fled backstage before anything else ridiculous could come out of her mouth. She hadn’t made it two steps past the backstage curtain before she ran into Asher, his expression a murderous thundercloud.

Uh-oh.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. “What the fuck? You
are
the one who says no weekends on the floor,” he hissed in an undertone, before adding, “You scared the hell out of me, Li…Sienna.”

Sienna realized in that moment just how nervous her unexpected detour to the floor had made Asher. It was only when he slipped into his crazy protective mode that he sometimes accidentally called her Lila, the name she’d been born with.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Ash. I know. I wanted to see Sydney dance with Petal, and then I saw him sitting there. I don’t know, but there’s something about that guy. He’s the one I asked you about, remember? He’s here a lot lately, and he only watches me, never smiles, and…” She waved her hands about in frustration as she tried to articulate her feelings. “I was just curious. That’s it, I was intrigued, but now I’m not. I guess some type of sick curiosity came over me, and now I’ve satisfied it.”

Asher’s expression relaxed. “It’s okay, doll. Just keep me in the loop when you decide to break protocol. It’s my job to keep you safe. You okay, for real?” He gave her a reassuring smile and pulled her into a hug.

Sienna nodded and wrapped her arms around Asher to give him a big squeeze.

With that, he playfully slapped her ass and pointed her to the stage. “Time to do what you do better than anyone else. And, Sie, you don’t have to apologize for being curious. You deserve whatever your heart desires and more.”

I can’t have more, but you can.

Sienna wasn’t really okay, but she knew if she didn’t let him think she was, he would pull her from dancing, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Most people would think it would be hard to get up and perform after the unsettling encounter she’d just had, but Sienna loved losing herself while dancing. Dancing was her safety net, her security blanket, and gave her sanity. Without dancing, Lila would still be lost, or even worse…back with her husband.

With performing in mind and the calming of her nerves that came with it, Sienna headed to stage left and prepared to make her entrance as the lights dimmed.

She climbed the pole while it was still dark so that when the sparkly spotlights went up, she was already hanging upside down, the hem of her baby doll shirt flipping forward to reveal luscious, creamy, shimmering skin and, of course, the hot-pink lace lingerie underneath.

For this routine, she’d chosen straight rock for her music. When the hard-core, steady rhythm of the electric guitar quickened, Sienna picked up the pace of her routine to match the drum solo in the song. Her hips swaying to the pulsing beat, her hair swinging with the music, she trained her eyes on the audience.

On everyone in the audience except for
him
.

She didn’t even know his name, but was considering having a drink with him, which was crazy. What in the world was wrong with her? Maybe she needed a few days off.

Sienna broke free from her thoughts, becoming fully engaged in her act as she left the pole and stalked toward the front of the stage. That was the effect dancing had on her. It was cleansing, detoxifying, allowing her to drop all her negative thoughts and be transported somewhere else.

Dancing delivered her courage.

She wrapped her arms around her body as though she were enveloping herself in a tight embrace, then lifted the nightie off in one seductive swoop before flinging it to stage right.

Down to her bra and panties, Sienna strutted to the front of the platform. She tugged her hair loose from the elastic band that held it, then bent over to shake her long locks loose. When she flipped back up, hand to hip, dancing suggestively, swaying her middle while letting her hair fall down her back, she saw him.

He was staring. Not gawking or watching awkwardly like most fans, but gazing possessively at her. A mysterious warmth flooded her body, seeping out from her veins to her muscles, skin, and most private parts, making her want to touch, feel, and gaze openly.

That was all she could handle. Sienna turned and went back up the pole to finish the song, avoiding looking at the audience. She couldn’t stand another second of the heat between their gazes.

Twisting and wrapping her lean body around the pole, never breaking a seductive smile, Sienna had the crowd twisted in lust. She could feel it in the air. It was heavy, blanketing the audience in a fever. Unable to cool down, the crowd’s only choice was to take in more sensuality.

At the end of the song, Sienna didn’t wait to see if the man she’d already spent too much time thinking about had left. She did a quick spin around, giving the crowd one more long look at her toned bare butt, blew kisses to her fans, and sashayed off the stage.

To look at her, one would never know her insides were churning with anxiety, that her thong was soaked…not from sweat, and her heart was beating hard…not from exertion.

The crowd probably expected her to head to the back to get laid. There was nothing else to do after a performance like the one she just gave other than melt into another person. She didn’t have a significant other, though, so she went to her dressing room to be alone.

As always.

Twenty-four hours earlier, Thursday night

T
HE OVERHEAD
lights were dim, the stage dark with a single spotlight focused dead center. It was showtime. Sienna waited backstage, inspecting herself in a full-length mirror one last time to be sure her minimal costume covered what it should. She checked her makeup, then ran a hand over her skin to ensure the lotion she’d just applied had been absorbed completely; it would make her skin shimmer and sparkle when the light hit it. Her audience had come to expect her lush, creamy skin to radiate onstage, and she wouldn’t disappoint them tonight.

The music in the main room began to pulse, sending vibrations throughout the entire building, and marked the time for her entrance. Counting backward from ten, Sienna entered stage left as if she owned the huge platform rising above the crowd. Her demeanor actually said more than that; her moves suggested she owned the whole club.

Actually, she did own the entire club…now.

Well, half of it, to be precise.

It had only been three months since that fateful change of fortune; only time would allow the idea to settle with her.

She now owned half of all this. This being the Electric Tunnel, the one and only route to Vegas’s heady, lust-filled underground, and a fiery inferno of deep, hot, anything-goes fantasies of the sensual nature.

Asher Peterson, the club’s owner and the top purveyor of everything and anything sensuous in Sin City, had brought Sienna in three months ago as a partner in “the Tunnel.”

“You deserve it,” he had told her one night as they left the club. She had just stared at her closest friend—her only true friend—watching him run a hand through his thick, wavy blond hair and thinking he needed a haircut, and a goatee trim while he was at it.

“Without you,” he’d said, “this would still be just a small strip joint on the outskirts of the Strip. Now it’s the most sought-after place to go to in Vegas. I won’t take no for an answer. From now on, Sie, we’re fifty/fifty partners.” Asher had kept his eyes trained on her, waiting for a reaction, his serious expression letting her know he would accept nothing short of “yes.”

She had continued to stare. No longer distracted by her boss and closest friend’s facial hair, she had pondered the idea.

Me, Lila, the sweet little religious girl who’s only ever slept with one man, owning a strip club? Imagine that.

It had been enough to make a little laugh bubble up in her throat at the absurdity of it, but Asher had insisted he wanted her to have it.

Warming up to the subject, his silver-gray eyes had been intense with sincerity as he’d said, “
You
bring in the big money, the men with hundred-dollar bills to burn, the couples with serious cash to spend on a decadent time in Vegas, the bachelor parties with guys who drink like fish and buy lap dances like they’re candy, and the lonely businessmen who would pay anything to get off and go to sleep. They all come to see you. You’re their fantasy come true. They wait in line, fill the crowd, buy booze, and book private rooms months in advance to simply dream of you. It’s Vegas, baby, and you make the whole experience for them. You need to own that, love.”

With those words, her heart pounded even more furiously. She was indeed all of what Asher had said—a stripper, the best one out there—but she had a past. One she couldn’t risk becoming public knowledge, which was why she did what she did. Sienna took her clothes off for money. She bared her skin so she didn’t have to show her soul.

As Sienna, her secret was safe in a city full of secrets, because what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.

Sure, it was a cliché. But it was exactly why she had run there seven years ago in the first place. She’d felt she was safe in Vegas, so she was staying put. Why not take Asher up on his offer?

Her onstage career would be limited by her age, and she hadn’t had a ton of options when it came to earning money. At some point she would need to retire, and everyone needed a nest egg. Even a woman who had left a life serving God for bright lights and a stripper pole deserved to not be destitute.

And that was how Sienna came to be an owner of the Electric Tunnel, the naughtiest, classiest, and most exclusive strip club in the United States.

She still had to dance at this very moment, not only because the music had started, but the club relied on her. Without Sienna Flower, the Electric Tunnel was just another gentleman’s club. With her erotic beauty, sleek curves, lush breasts, and virginal eyes, she was the main course who lured everyone inside to be tempted by other appetizers and side dishes. Everything else at the club was à la carte: drinks, having a nubile young woman rub up against you, as well as venturing to the private areas.