The room is silent. While our boss wouldn’t approve of any of us hoping for who we got, I can tell by the girls’ faces who got their picks.
We all do it. It’s just human nature. But we don’t discuss it...at least not with the boss around.
I read the stats about Connor.
Bartender. At least he’ll be able to make me a drink.
Still lives at home with his parents. Seriously? I’ve never had a target who still lives at home with their parents.
Brother Beckett in jail for the murder of his best friend. Oh shit.
Shivers run down my spine, and I take in every detail of Connor’s picture. His brother being in jail doesn’t mean he’s a criminal, too, but the apple doesn’t typically fall far from the tree.
Our session ends, and racks of clothes are pulled out for us to choose our club attire for the evening. I flick my wrist quickly, debating about the choices on the rack. Everything is high end and designer, which is what is expected in the VIP room.
Red. Let’s go for red. It’ll look good with my black hair.
I remove the cherry-red, sequined bodycon dress and slide on a pair of Jimmy Choo four-inch stilettos which probably cost more than my monthly wage. I select my jewelry and put everything on then study my reflection in the mirror.
Perks of the job. At least I don’t have to buy clothes with my paycheck.
My hair and makeup are quickly done by one of the stylists, and I’m soon sitting in one of four black cars. Each of the vehicles has two or three female spies in it, and they arrive at the club at staggered times.
The girl I know as Tiffany is in the car with me. It may be her real name. It may not. I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. As far as everyone is concerned, I’m Gia.
It’s not my birth name but my preferred. I changed it legally when I left home, and I don’t usually use it but decided to on this assignment.
We walk to the front of the line at the club and get in. It’s never an issue. Our names are always on the VIP list, but the bouncers never even check. All they see is a group of women, in high-end clothes, with lots of body parts exposed.
Tonight is no exception.
I enter the club and gaze up at the VIP room. My stomach is fluttering with nerves and adrenaline, which happens whenever I have a new assignment and need to approach my target for the first time.
Surveying the first floor, I find the bar and make my way over.
One drink to calm your nerves then you can meet the infant mama’s boy you’ll be babysitting.
Hopefully, he can dance, and I can at least pass the time faster.
There are only two people in line ahead of me, and I open my clutch to get money to pay. A hand comes from behind me. It goes over mine, and a low voice sends heat to my loins and shivers down my spine. “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”
It figures. The one night I can’t get picked up, I get hit on by Mr. Sexy Voice, and I’m pretty sure Mr. I Want to Rip Your Clothes Off Body. His muscular frame standing against me is like a warm wall of flesh I want to wrap around me.
Sighing, I spin to tell him to take a hike but gape in surprise instead.
His grin becomes cocky the longer I gape. “Did you think you wouldn’t like what was behind you, but now you do?”
I almost say, “You’re Connor,” but remind myself this is work. Instead, I say, “You might be right.”
“So? Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure.”
He seems to know the bartender and holds up two fingers high in the air. Several people are in front of us, but he’s tall. The bartender ignores the others in line and hands Connor two drinks.
The skipped people grumble. Connor pulls me aside and hands me a martini glass filled with a reddish colored drink. “What is it?”
“Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you something different.”
I try the drink, which I’m pretty sure has a high alcohol level but tastes delicious.
Connor waits for my reaction, and my stomach flutters again.
“It’s yummy.”
“Thought you’d like it.” He takes a sip.
“What’s it called?”
“Sex on my Face.”
I almost spit my drink out and end up coughing instead, which seems to amuse Connor.
“That’s an interesting name,” I say when I recover.
Heat enters his eyes. “I prefer the act over the drink.”
Warmth crawls up my face.
“I’m Connor. What’s your name?”
“Gia.”
“Gia,” he repeats, and the way my name rolls off his tongue stirs flutters in my stomach. “Sexy name for a sexy woman.”
I’m pretty sure my face is as red as my dress.
He’s a target. Pull it together. What’s happening to you?
I clear my throat. “Are you from here?”
“I live on Anna Maria Island.”
“Oh? Is it nice there?”
“Beaches are awesome. Island is full of old people though.”
“How old?”
“Think grandparents.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
“When my friend is in town. He always has a VIP room.”
“Oh?” I already know he’s talking about Fisher. “Then why are you down here?”
He steps closer and leans into my ear. “Because as I stood at the glass, I saw you walk in.”
My heart races, and my pulse beats hard in my neck.
A waitress walks by with an empty tray. Connor takes my half-full glass out of my hand and puts our drinks on it. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“A woman like you knows how to dance.”
I try to hide my smile. “Is that what you think?”
“Yep.” He places his hand in mine and leads me out to the dance floor.
It’s still early for the club scene. The floor isn’t too crowded, but Connor pulls me close to him. Our body’s sync perfectly. We spend several hours on the floor before going up to the VIP room. I forget for a moment I’m working and this isn’t real.
But it feels real.
It’s not. He’s a target and could be a Twisted Heart.
Connor slides a key into the elevator, and we get in. As soon as the door shuts, he hits the stop button.
“What—”
He laces his fingers in my hair. Cupping my head in the palm of his hand, he dips down and stares at me for a brief moment in a way no man ever has. Lust, heat, and raw animalistic need are in his eyes, and he tugs my hair and kisses my neck, scraping his teeth on my skin as he moves up to my chin.
By the time his lips hit mine, I’m breathing hard, and there’s an ache between my legs. I quickly part my lips, and his tongue swirls in my mouth and makes my knees go weak. His arm tightens around my waist and holds me up when they buckle, and for the first time in my life, I moan while being kissed.
When he retreats, I’m panting and wanting more.
He murmurs against my lips, “I didn’t want anyone else around for our first kiss.”
All I can do is reach for his lips again, and he pushes me against the wall. When the alarm in the elevator blares, he moves his lips from my mouth to my nose then forehead.
He steps away and pushes the button then wraps his arm around my waist.