Four Seconds to Lose

myriad of emotions begin whirling within those eyes.

The tension in the air is suddenly palpable as her fingers reach forward to slide along my stomach, up to my chest. She stands, leveling me with a calculating look of her own. One that says she’s weighing the truth of my answer. “Why me?”

“Because you’re all I’ve thought about for weeks.”

“Is it because of . . . I mean,” her eyes dart to my neck, “do I remind you of someone?”

Ginger told her about Penny, obviously. “You’re not a replacement for anyone,” I answer slowly, evenly. Truthfully. Charlie is so much stronger, smarter, more confident than Penny ever was.

A shimmer coats her eyes. I think she’s beginning to understand . . . this. What the fuck is this? I honestly don’t know. When did it truly start? Was it last night? Was it when she threw me that first wink onstage? Was it the second she walked through my door?

I sense a tremble in her body and I instantly pull her into my arms. A nervous giggle tickles my chest where her mouth sits. “It’s all happening so fast. I just . . . when I took the job, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’m sorry, it’s me. I warned you.” The soft chuckle slides out of my mouth. “I don’t like wasting time.”

“Do you believe in fate, Cain?”

I hesitate. Something tells me that Charlie does. I’d hate to tell her that I don’t. That I despise the very idea of fate because it means I was destined for this life the second I was born. And that I’d be a fool to think I have control over any of it.

Suddenly, she pulls away. Tilting her head in that playful way of hers, she sits and edges backward until she’s in the middle of the mattress and lying on her elbows, knees bent but together, her back arched naturally. Like an alluring angel amidst a sea of bedsheets.

I can’t help but gaze at her for a moment.

And then her legs fall apart and that coy smile curves her lips.

My hands are locked on her ankles and pulling her to me in an instant.

And I know in my gut that each kiss, each touch, each thrust tonight will sink me further.

Until there is no escape.

* * *

“What did I teach you?” His voice registers a split second before sharp fists bombard my chest, my ribs, my stomach.

My fifteen-year-old body—already hardened for a good beating—has come to refuse more than four hours of sleep at a time, always on guard. After all, longer sleeps only increase the odds of getting caught unconscious. I must have been exhausted, though, because this time he caught me in a dead sleep.

I spring out of bed in seconds and raise my fists, ready to fight. Dad’s dark eyes—still red and glossy from whatever he’d snorted or smoked the night before—bore into me. “Always be ready, son. Every second counts.”

My brain registers a weight against my chest and my eyes fly open. I’m a split second away from jumping into defense mode when floral perfume fills my nostrils.

I sigh. No one is attacking me. It’s Charlie—her body nestled into my side, her head resting on my chest. And it feels fucking incredible.

“Nightmare?” I hear her sleepy voice ask. With the predawn light coming through the window, I can make out her features. She’s at peace.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” I apologize, pushing a strand of hair off her face. A glance at the clock tells me we’ve been asleep for a few hours.

Asleep.

Tonight was the first time I’ve ever fallen asleep with a woman.

I’m almost twenty-nine years old and I’ve never slept with a woman.

I’ve never even tried.

And now, feeling her silky skin against mine, her body relaxed and finding comfort molded into mine, I know what I’ve been missing. What I never want to miss again.

Her hand rubs over my chest affectionately. “Your heart is racing,” she murmurs. It’s almost like a purr.

“I’m fine.” Unless you break it. The thought suddenly creeps into my mind unbidden, leaving me feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Charlie could break me. By the volcanic eruption of anxiety suddenly bursting, I acknowledge that she could shatter me worse than Penny did.

Permanently.

A second later, I feel her tongue dart over my nipple before her mouth covers it in a kiss. I groan, shifting to my side so I can face her. A tiny giggle escapes her but her eyes are still closed. I simply watch her, as her breathing slows and steadies, telling me she has fallen back asleep.

chapter twenty-eight * * * CHARLIE

I’ve given up all pretenses that I’m leaving today or tomorrow. It might be in a week from now, or three weeks from now. But I’m not leaving until I absolutely have to.

I thought the night on the pier was intense, but last night felt somehow . . . binding. Cain showed me just how much more demanding yet gentle, how much more passionate yet considerate, he could be. Raw emotions— feelings I can’t even comprehend, let alone verbalize—passed through each intimate touch, each time we surrendered ourselves to each other.

I don’t understand how or why I’ve garnered Cain’s interest, but I’ll hold onto it as long as I can.

Every inch of me is sore. And yet, if Cain needed more of me, I would give it to him right now. I’ll give him everything that I possibly can. Which doesn’t feel like very much, especially compared to what he’s so freely offered to me.

My heart aches with that knowledge. I don’t know what to do. I don’t see how this can go on indefinitely. And yet no part of me will allow the thought of leaving right now.

Perhaps he senses my presence because Cain suddenly turns to lock eyes with me, pulling a light gasp from my lips. His gaze drifts down my body, that deadly curl touching his lip. “I hope you don’t mind me going through your dresser.” My fingers stretch the plain gray T-shirt of his that I’m wearing as I make my way down the steps. I found it folded neatly in his top drawer and I couldn’t help but put it on. It reaches my thighs, it’s soft, and, though obviously laundered, it still somehow smells like Cain.

He places the cup in his hand down on the side table and silently strolls over to wait for me on the landing. By the sudden tilt of his head and his focus, I’m thinking the shirt isn’t entirely long enough to cover the fact that I have nothing on underneath. When I reach the landing, his hand grabs onto the front of it, hiking it up around my waist as he pulls me into him. “I would prefer you without this.” His hands slide down along my back to get a solid grip of my bare ass.

“What, like some sort of sex slave?” I tease as I inhale the scent of soap. Cain has showered. I, most definitely, have not. After last night’s bedroom marathon, I’m regretting this fact right now. It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He pulls me into him tighter.

“I tried to wake you up this morning but you sleep like the dead,” he says absently, a soft smile on his lips as his attention roams my face.

I scrubbed my makeup off before I came down. I also took out the contacts. I can do that much for him, at least.

“I could use a slave,” he murmurs. Then he leans down and lays one of his knee-buckling, thigh-tingling kisses on me and I silently thank God that I at least used his toothbrush to clean my teeth.