On The Ropes (Tapped Out 3) - Page 38

Almost immediately, my mind lodged a protest.

But then you’ll never find out what’s going on with Gio. And you’ve been curious since the start.

Curious pussycat, that was me.

Gattina.

I shook off the sound of Marco’s voice in my head and opened the cage door. He wasn’t going to intrude here. This was only about me, and the music, and the money I would make that would help my education. Tonight, I’d have to cut Nancy into a share of the tips along with the bouncers on duty as I always did, but I would still do well. I’d make sure of

it.

The instant the door clanged shut and the pink-and-purple spotlights swung my way, I went into autopilot. I plastered my hands to the back wall of the cage and swung my hips, rotating them in slow circles that pantomimed hard, dirty sex. My halter dress barely covered my ass, and it didn’t take more than a little bending over to show off my hot pink G-string. Gripping my knees, I shook my ass with the music, getting into it, losing myself in the primal beat that echoed up through the floor and into my body. Electrifying me.

Here, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be scared. All I could do was let the music take me, as it had so many times before.

Soon, I was so hot from dancing like a maniac in that tiny cage that taking off my dress was almost a relief. Because the dress was backless, I hadn’t worn a bra, and as soon as the material slid away, the catcalls turned up to an earsplitting level. I played up to them, gripping the bars of the cage, rocking my hips, teasingly waving my toes through the bars as men shoved money in as fast as they could. Aware all the while that Gio was out there, watching me grind against the bars and rub my nipples until they rose in tight little peaks.

I hadn’t been sure if I’d be able to do this again after last week. But dancing fed something dark and depraved inside me, a beast that wouldn’t be tamed. It was easy, deceptively so, to pretend again that I wasn’t in danger. This was just fun. Maybe not innocent fun, but not harmful either.

Even in the midst of that fun, I felt Gio’s eyes on my body, mapping it like he’d mapped it with his broad, calloused hands. That knowledge spurred me on, made me go further than I usually did. When I ran my hands up the insides of my thighs, I didn’t stop outside my panties. I slipped the tips of my fingers inside and pretended to touch myself.

And felt my clit pulse as my hands grew slick from more than just sweat.

Safety meant so many different things at different times. Tonight, it meant going wild and knowing he would be there to catch me no matter what. As much as I wanted to rail against his overprotectiveness, I loved it too.

In some small way, I mattered to him. Just as he mattered to me.

My first set was almost over when I heard Marco’s laughter. I blinked the sweat out of my eyes and scanned the swarms of people dancing underneath the cage, but it was impossible to make out faces for more than a second with the spotlights swinging everywhere.

That smooth, dark chuckle was in my head now, growing louder and louder, blocking out the music to the point that I had to grip the cage bars to keep from going to my knees.

I started choking, trapped in the dark with no air. And then the spotlights swung away from my side of the club, signaling the end of my set, and I stumbled out of the door and down the steps, barely remembering to snag my dress on the way.

Somehow I managed to pull it over my head before I reached the bottom of the stairs and encountered the grasping hands that always came too close and moved too fast. Normally, I playfully batted them away. Tonight, they grabbed for me like seaweed out of the deep, dark ocean, threatening to pull me down beneath the surface.

Where I would drown.

I’d just reached the hallway leading to the dressing room when a strong hand wrapped around my upper arm and pulled me to a halt. “Tesoro, wait. Are you okay?”

My eyes closed in reaction to that nickname I so loved, but I kept moving. He tried to hold me still. Nothing could.

I took a detour and aimed for the ladies’ room instead of the dressing room and shoved my way inside. I knew he was right behind me, but I couldn’t stop to talk. Couldn’t talk, period. My throat had swollen shut from panic.

Once I was inside a stall, I sagged against the wall and covered my face with my hands.

Breathe. Just breathe. You’re fine. You’re okay.

A knock sounded on the door and I startled, slamming my elbow into the toilet paper dispenser and crying out.

The knocking grew more frantic. “Carly, dammit, open this door. Let me in there.”

Gio. Just Gio.

A hysterical laugh tried to bubble up as I pictured him cramming himself into that tiny stall with me. How did people have sex in bathroom stalls, anyway? Their partners must not be freaking bull-sized like Gio. No way he’d be able to fit in there with me and actually be able to…move.

“I’m okay,” I said around the mixture of tears and laughter wedged in my chest.

“You aren’t. Let me in.”

Tags: Cari Quinn Tapped Out Romance
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