Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book #8)

I whip out a Benjamin, and he lets me in without blinking.

It’s dark inside, or rather extremely dimly lit. A red sequined sign at the entrance shines like a jewel spelling out the name of the establishment. The place is thick with topless women walking around on proverbial stilts while serving cocktails to the mostly wasted patrons. Gobs of men from all walks of life sit entranced around the elongated runway that unfurls itself down the center of the room. A couple of girls wearing nothing but G-strings take turns dancing and pretending to wrestle. I find the first seat and scan the room trying to figure out exactly what I’m doing here when the music dies down and the girls prance their way offstage. The one with a hot pink feathered boa has so many bills stuffed into that string tucked against her bottom, she leaves a trail of green in her wake.

The lights go nuts, and a shirtless man pumps up the crowd as he struts the catwalk with his glittery top hat and ridiculous gold pants. “Let’s all make some noise for the fabulous Caila Jace!”

The crowd loses their shit as the announcer does a disappearing act, and the music comes on with a backbeat so hard you feel it thumping in your chest. It’s as if it’s trying to kick-start my heart, but it’s a futile effort. Not even a set of paddles could electrocute me back to the land of the living. The only thing I need is—that I’ll ever need is…

A drop-dead gorgeous blonde sashays out onto the stage swirling her hips, grinding them to the music, and my jaw goes slack.

The only thing that I need is—“Caila Jace?” Her name comes from my lips in a foreign whisper. “What the heck?” I sit stunned for a few minutes as she begins to sing into the mic, and that sweet country twang takes me by the balls and wrenches the shit out of them.

Is this something new? It couldn’t be. She looks poised and polished, for lack of a better word, seasoned. How the hell did I not know this? But then, why would I? Cassidy kept her entire life under lock and key. It’s a miracle I knew as much as I did.

She teases the crowd by taking off her belt, and her silver robe falls open in the front, revealing a matching set of bra and panties.

“Fuck,” I grunt it out as my eyes drift to the throngs of salivating bastards all beckoning her to take it off while fisting dollar bills at her.

Cassidy—Caila—at this point, I’m not sure what her real name is, sings like an angel, beautiful and strong, and it’s only when she looks in this general direction do I notice that her scar looks as if it’s been miraculously healed. My stomach sours for a second. I’m damn sure this is her, but she just looked right through me as if I were made of glass. Not that I’m here to disrupt her routine, but, then again, I’m very much here to disrupt her routine if need be. I can’t stand the thought of all these men chanting obscenities at her, just waiting for a glimpse of what she has to offer.

She looks my way again, and this time I lift my hand in an effort to gain her attention. Cassidy winks and offers me a squeeze of the fingers mid-air before continuing to fill the place with her beautifully haunting voice. She tosses the mic out to someone on the other side of the runway as the guitar solo goes off overhead. Cassidy peels her robe off, balling it up and tossing it in my direction. She hugs the pole in front of her and squats, licking a line along the phallic metal tube as she shimmies her way back up. Her hips grind into the base of it as she tosses her head back and moans into oblivion while the music breaks free in a frenzy. Cassidy looks every bit as if she’s pleasuring herself right there on stage in front of a house full of drunks, each one drooling at the opportunity to watch the very public display.

I can’t do this. I can’t sit here while the woman I love, the woman I’ve been dying to see, hold, and speak with continues like this. Something isn’t right, and I can’t put my finger on it. It’s as if I’ve exited one nightmare only to find myself fully awake in another.

“Cassidy!” I do my best to shout over the music, but my voice is drowned out by the network of drunken cheers.

She bends over, spilling her golden hair to the floor a moment while her fingers work the back of her bra, and once she stands abruptly, her tits bounce out in turn as if happy to finally see the crowd themselves.

“Oh shit.” I wrestle my way through the thicket of limbs. I whip off my jacket and toss it over to her. “Cassidy!” I shout with everything in me. “I love you!” I climb up and pull her in, examining her features for a trace of the woman I thought I knew.

“Cade!” a familiar female voice screams from below, and I turn, fully expecting to see Piper, but instead I’m met up with…

“Cassidy?”

A swarm of beefed-up security guards tosses something that amounts to a blanket over my head, and I’m thrown offstage, wrangled out to the cool night air before I can process what just happened.

Addison Moore's books